Volume Magazine by Creating A Magazine @ NYU

Issue No. 1

Freaks

freak (frek)

(n) 1. any abnormal phenomenon or product or unusual object; anomaly; aberration. 2. a person or animal on exhibition as an example of a strange deviation from nature. 3. a sudden and apparently causeless change or turn of events, the mind, etc.; an apparently capricious notion, occurrence, etc.: That kind of sudden storm is a freak. 4. Slang. a. a person who has withdrawn from normal, rational behavior and activities to pursue one interest or obsession: a drug freak. b. a devoted fan or follower; enthusiast: a baseball freak. c. a hippie. 5. Archaic. capriciousness; whimsicality. (adj) 6. unusual; odd; irregular: a freak epidemic. (v) 7. to become or make frightened, nervous, or wildly excited: The loud noise caused the horse to freak. [Origin: 1555â&#x20AC;&#x201C;65; 1965â&#x20AC;&#x201C;70 for definition 4] (syn) vagary, quirk, crotchet.

VOLUME MAGAZINE Issue No. 1 FREAKS

contributors editors’ letter5 4

art sabhan adam’s grotesque self portraits 6 seeing music, hearing colors 10

style real fake babies

food

dress up, in lockdown

in defense of fat 16 it’s hip to be square19 the cabinet of curiosities politics

the conspiracy candidate 24

thought from a stroke, a mental breakthrough 30 don’t drink the kool-aid 33

dispatches

going polar 34

the fourth dimension, in new jersey 36

contributors

editors’ letter Dear Reader, Volume is not mass and it is not space. It is what fills space. Volume is full. It says more than what it says. Volume is the range between silence and sound. This is not a magazine for the disaffected. This is not a magazine for the outcasts. This is not a magazine about the disaffected nor the outcasts.

This is a magazine about baseball fans, about sailing, about hippies and pharmacists. The first issue of Volume has a challenge: not to defend freaks, but to redefine them. There is a bit of freak in each of us. To call someone ‘abnormal’ is to acquiesce, to accept an idea of what ‘normal’ is without protest. To call someone a ‘freak’ implies judgment, but we refuse to judge. We are simply interested. We hope you will be too. yours, V

PORTRAiT OF THE ARTiST Sabhan Adamâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s paintings depict contorted, monstrous figures that look like creatures that would haunt your dreams. As a self-taught artist, he aims to force his viewers to find beauty in feeling uncomfortable. Sarah Reynolds discovers how his disfigured creatures are really self-portraits that reflect his emotions brewing deep within. Sabhan Adam, Untitled, 2004, Oil & Mixed Media on Canvas, 67 x 58 inches

ART Sarah Reynolds: Where do you get your inspiration? Sabhan Adam: My inspiration comes from different places: my past, my mother’s stories, cartoons like Tom and Jerry, and poetry. SR: Do you have any unusual habits? SA: I isolate myself from other people when I paint and it is impossible for me to collaborate with other artists. I have more that fifty thousand square meters of canvas that will last me for thirteen years. Sometimes I go to the supermarket and buy twenty pieces of the same fruit. I have more than eighty pairs of the same shoes and twenty shirts of the same style and color. SR: How do people react to your artwork in Al-Hasakeh, Syria? SA: They have no reaction because life in Al-Hasakeh is very simple and people aren’t highly educated. This is why they do not understand my artwork. SR: Do you consider yourself extraordinary? SA: Yes, I am an extraordinary person; I exert all my power in my art. Painting is more important than marriage, children, even more important than myself. SR: What were you like in school? SA: I was as successful as any student. Some of my friends became doctors or engineers but their status is much worse than mine, their contributions to the world are so limited. I educated myself and feel that so many talents are wasted without giving a chance to shine. SR: Would you rather be in a room full of interesting people or by yourself? SA: There were no interesting people in my life. The only thing interesting in my life is my paints and paintings. I paint morning to night, through the seasons and the years; I am like Sisyphus. SR: What type of things occupy most of your thoughts? SA: Everything. The more I think about humans, culture, and things, the more I keep away from them. And that is weird. SR: What do you want your artwork to convey? How do

Sabhan Adam, Untitled, 2001, Oil & Mixed Media on Canvas, 200.5 x 199.5 cm

you define beauty? SA: Beauty is truth. There is no middle zone in poetry, music or life. I am living in the middle of a storm, fighting in a battle, that is why I cannot answer the question. I will be able to answer it in the last moments of my life. SR: What is your favorite piece of artwork? SA: I do not have a favorite piece of artwork, but they are all a part of my soul. SR: You stated that you don’t like people; do you feel that you have a better relationship with your art than you do with other people? SA: People are the source of disturbance, not normal people, but the media. When I walk the streets, other creatures do not exist, they are just a delusion; I don’t feel them and this might be a psychological problem. SR: Are you religious? SA: I am a good giving person, but I am not religious; I am spiritual. I am against bad people and unfortunately there are so many. SR: Do you feel that art is the most efficient way of communicating? SA: Of course, art is the only way to live a comfortable and relaxing life.

Sabhan Adam, Untitled, 2008, Oil & Mixed Media on Canvas

Sabhan Adam, Untitled works, Oil & Mixed Media on Canvas, upper left: 2002; upper right: 2002; lower left: 2004; lower right: 1994

synesthesia:

A neurologically based phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a secondary sensory or cognitive pathway.

magine walking into a nightclub to have your vision bombarded with translucent black cubes and flashes of neon colors; with every music note, a new shape takes form. Nearly 1 in 2,000 people have a condition called synesthesia that triggers two sensory perceptions simultaneously. Words activate not only the language centers of the person’s brain but also the vision and color-processing centers. When an image in the periphery of our visual field is surrounded by similarly shaped and colored images, the brain has trouble registering its presence, even though the eye picks it up. Synesthesia occurs in the earliest stages of perception—before the brain ascribes meaning to what the eye reports. It is possible that synesthesia is caused by genetic mutations that create dense neural connections between areas of the brain that process sensory information. The condition has been reported more often by females and seems to be associated with artistic talent. Synesthesia literally means “joined sensation.” It has been recognized for more than 300 years and has been dismissed by physicians as a fluke phenomenon. Famous historical figures who have been proven to have synesthesia include: Vladimir Nabokov, Duke Ellington, David Hockney, Arthur Rimbaud, Marcia Smilack, Wassily Kandinsky, and James Hamerton. Many times people with synesthesia have been diagnosed with an overly vivid imagination or having hallucinations. Carol Steen is an artist who lives and works in New York City. She has experienced synesthesia for as long as she can remember, perceiving colors in numbers and letters, as well as when she hears certain sounds. Carol has incorporated elements of what she sees synesthetically in both her past

artwork, painting, and current endeavor, sculpture. Carol Steen realized that she perceived the world differently at the age of 7 while walking to school with a friend. “The letter ‘A’ is the prettiest pink I’ve ever seen,” Steen told her friend, who reacted with obvious confusion. She kept her condition a secret until age 20 when she discovered that her father also saw colors when looking at certain letters. “I was sitting with my family around the dinner table, and-I don’t know why I said it—but I said, ‘The number five is yellow.’ There was a pause, and my father said ‘No, it’s yellow-ochre.’ And my mother and my brother looked at us like, ‘ this is a new game, would you share the rules with us?’” After learning to live with her condition, Carol embraces synesthesia and currently blasts loud music in her Manhattan loft while painting abstract artworks of what she sees. Synesthesia can also occur while eating food. For example, Sean Day, an anthropology professor in Charleston, S.C., tastes in Technicolor. When eating sushi with gingered squid, Sean sees a huge cloud of bright orange shaving cream floating in mid air. The combined experience of seeing while eating can be disruptive at times. Unlike most average people who enjoy eating a snack while driving, Sean Day risks the possibility of wrecking his car. With the radio on, he sees images on the windshield that are translucent and quickly fade away, but while eating, the images are solid and block his view of the road. To remain out of harm’s way, Day doesn’t eat and drive. Heightened senses can assist in many creative endeavors, but can also be unwelcome at times. For now, synesthetes can be grateful to know that they are among 150,000 similarly gifted individuals living in the United States. Sarah Reynolds

STYLE

UmbilicalCordOptional

real?

magine a mother who takes her newborn baby out with her in public, cradling it in her arms and showering it with love. Then she takes it home and disassembles it for cleaning. Sound like science fiction? Welcome to the dollhouse. Known as ‘reborns,’ these dolls are gaining popularity as accessories, toys, and well, life partners for would-be parents. Consumers across the globe have been spotted carting around dolls that look and feel like real babies. The phenomenon has taken off so rapidly that some of the imposter infants have been confused for real, living babies. In Australia, one woman returned to her parked car after a short shopping trip to find the local police smashing her car windows. It had been a particularly warm day and a passerby had seen her ‘baby’ in the back seat and alerted the authorities. So lifelike are these dolls that even when touched or studied carefully, it can remain unclear whether or not the baby is real. The process of creating your perfect reborn is a lengthy one that can get as complicated as the customer wants. A doll is chosen, and then every detail, from skin color, to hair type, to weight, can be customized to look as the buyer (or “adopter,” as they are referred to, as dolls are ‘adopted,’ not purchased) desires. Even additions such as a magnetic mouth (to hold a pacifier), a warmer for the skin (so that it feels real to the touch), a heart beat and a fake umbilical cord can be bought to make the reborn as lifelike as possible. Kay Dunne, a reborn artist who runs her own website, babylovereborns.com, will even add a spine. Is the desire to buy a reborn come from a need to accessorize? Or does it stem from a longing to have children that never grow up? Both it seems, according to Dunne. “My interest in doll making started after the birth of my first daughter,” says Dunne. “She seemed to grow up so fast and I guess making dolls was a way of capturing that innocence and youth and freezing it.” But many more buyers, or adopters, are spending hundreds of dollars on these babies for the same reason that they might buy the latest designer handbag: they like the attention they get when they walk around with it. For their

fake!

owners, the dolls invite endearing smiles, ‘oohs and aahs’ from admirers and passers-by, and they bring the feeling that you have someone to accompany you around for the day. “Having a baby has become so trendy,” one reborn mother claims. “I have someone to go sit at lunch with, to stroll around the shops with, to cuddle and tell my secrets, and even to dress in cute outfits! And the best part is that there is no cleaning or feeding, I can ignore it for a few days if I am too busy, and they will never grow up to be a bratty teenager.” Georgina Bloomberg

CELL COUTURE I

n the fashion world, a designer with little experience and limited resources is unlikely to put on a show and attract international attention. In the prison world, things are a bit different. Women’s prisons have the garment industry’s new frontier. In Milan, El Salvador, Nairobi and stateside in Tennessee, female prisons have started fashion design programs. The programs include sketching and sewing lessons, followed by the opportunity to learn about fabrics and merchandising, and how a top designer gets to be successful. Some more lenient prisons with well behaved inmates are giving their locked-up ladies the opportunity to visit local designers’ workshops and boutiques. In Milan, a group of women have secured backing from a top 14

local designer who will help them produce their own line of t-shirts. If they are successful, they could move on to produce a full line of clothing. The line, called Gatti Galleotti (Italian for “Jail Cats”), is expected to take off quite quickly as consumers will know that they are helping a worthy program with their purchase. The designers also hope consumers will be drawn to the line’s cheap price, and the fact that the clothes will be somewhat edgy since, hey, they come from jail! Each jail has hosted a yearly fashion show in which the inmates are welcome to show off their work either on a fellow inmate or modeling it themselves. The shows have drawn huge crowds, providing income for the jails, confidence for the designers, and

possibly opportunities to get their names out into the fashion world. The hope is that after completing their sentence, the women who participate in the program will have learned a trade that they can use to get a job “outside”, making the transition from jail to freedom- one that is notoriously troublesome- a whole lot easier. Apart from the positive effects that the programs have had on the inmates during their time in jail and beyond, there has been an undeniable effect on the surrounding communities as well. Not only are the inmates finding the transition easier, as they are better regarded by other citizens, but these programs are able to create necessary goods to sell in the local towns. Uniforms for local sports teams, aprons for local restaurants or

soup kitchens, and souvenirs for the jail itself are just some of the items that have been donated by the participants. The women can’t sell their designs themselves but souvenirs sold by the jails can directly benefit the fashion programs. More and more women are seeing their potential through their work in fashion, and they are finding new belief in their future lives after completing their jail time. One former inmate has even opened her own tailoring and alterations shop where she hires exclusively former inmates. “It’s difficult to find a job after you come out of prison,” said one inmate at Milan’s San Vittore prison. “I like Giorgio Armani. I like his dresses. Maybe one day I would like to work for him.” Georgina Bloomberg

FOOD

fat

Jennifer McLagan is the author of the cookbook Fat. Commonly perceived as “the greasy killer”, fat has a bad rap. Veronica Chan sits down with McLagan to discuss the more redeeming qualities of this long misunderstood ingredient, how a fatty diet can improve our lives, and why she is a fan of German artist Joseph Beuys.

Veronica Chan: Why were you gravitated towards fat as the theme for your latest cookbook? Jennifer McLagan: Well my first book Bones: Recipes, History & Lore was all about cooking cuts of meat and fish on the bone for flavor. Fat seemed like the logical next step. As all good chefs know fat equals flavor. It is much easier to roast a bird or a joint of meat if it has a good quantity of fat. The fat guarantees taste and succulence, without it, the meat will be dry and tasteless. So fat is a perfect topic for a cookbook, plus

it is controversial. I thought it was about time someone defended fat. VC: You call fat a “misunderstood ingredient”. Why do you think it is misunderstood and how do you address these common misconceptions? JM: Up until about 30 years ago people preferred to cook with lard, suet, poultry fat and butter. It was not until the 1970’s when animal fat was declared “the greasy killer”, and we were told to lower our consumption, that vegetable fats were labeled “the healthy fats”

that they made inroads into our kitchens. However, vegetable oils, unlike animal fats, are very unstable and fragile and turn rancid easily. Animal fats on the other hand are very stable, which makes them ideal for cooking, and they have no dangerous trans fats. Animal fats also contain lots of good fatty acids that fight disease, help absorb vitamins, lower bad cholesterol, and [have] a good ratio of essential fatty acids. And best of all, fat, with its big round molecules, tastes good, it feels good in your mouth, on your tongue, and it carries flavors. Fat equals flavor. VC: If fat is not to blame, who or what do you think is the culprit responsible for the rise in obesity? JM: Eating less animal fat hasn’t made us healthier or thinner. We have reduced the amount of animal fat we eat, yet statistics show the total amount of fat in our diet has increased. Vegetable fats have replaced animal fats, which has resulted in a huge increase in polyunsaturated fat in our diet. We have also added man-made trans fats to the mix, which everyone now agrees are not good for us. It is difficult to blame obesity on one thing – but it is definitely not consumption of animal fats. I think there are many causes, increased consumption of polyunsaturated fats is probably one but there are also roots in the way we eat; in front of the TV, at our desks, in the car, walking down the street. We are constantly snacking, rather than sitting down and having a meal. Increased consumption of low-fat, fat-free “foods” don’t satisfy our hunger and leaves us hungry, whereas eating good animal fat satisfies our hungry – so eat fat and lose weight! VC: How do you suggest we moderate our intake of fat in our diets? JM: I believe eating is about moderation. It’s boring but true. Animal fat as I’ve said is very satisfying, so you will eat less of a dish containing it. Therefore fat consumption is self-regulating, eat fat and you won’t be hungry, so you won’t want to snack. Listen to your body. Eat when you’re hungry not when you’re bored. When you feel full, stop eating – its not rocket science. VC: Some medical experts suspect that foods with high fat content increase endorphins. Besides mood enhancement, what are some other positive attributes of fat?

JM: Fat is very important for good health. Every cell in our body needs fat. Our brain and hormones rely on fat to function, and fat supports our immune system, fights disease, and protects our liver. Fat promotes good skin and healthy hair, and it regulates our digestive system and leaves us feeling sated. Fat is the body’s preferred fuel, providing us with more than twice the amount of energy as the same quantity of carbohydrates and protein. It helps the body to absorb nutrients, calcium, and the fat-soluble vitamins A, D, E, and K. Fat and protein are found together in nature for a reason, it’s the fat that helps us digest the protein, so it makes good sense to eat a well-marbled steak, or a roast chicken with crispy skin. VC: What do you find to be the most unusual use of fat? JM: I thought the use of fat as a medium for sculpture. The German sculpture Joseph Beuys used it extensively. He found it a better medium than clay, as it was lighter and easier to work with, and could be used in liquid or solid form. He was fascinated by fat’s transformation over time and its dependence on the ambient temperature. His first “fat” work was the installa-

tion piece Fat Corners, and his biggest fat piece was Tallow, in which he used 20 tons of mutton and beef fat. VC: How were you able to research and test all the recipes in your book without overindulging? JM: That wasn’t difficult. Fat is filling so really can’t overindulge unless you force yourself. The burnt butter ice cream, for example; one scoop is enough. As I don’t like to throw food away, I have a large network of tasters and friends who are happy to take any leftovers. VC: If you were to be super over-indulgent, disregarding the recommended daily intake of 2000 calories, what fatty foods would you want to eat? JM: Fatty foods I love to eat – foie gras, pork belly, roast goose and almost anything with butter.

Salted Butter Tart 1/2 recipe Sweet Butter Pastry 1 1/4 cups / 9 ounces / 250 g superfine (caster) sugar 1/2 cup / 4 ounces / 115 g salted butter, diced 1 cup / 250 ml whipping (35 percent fat) cream Lightly whipped cream, for serving Roll out the pastry on a floured surface and line a 9 or 91/2-inch / 23 or 24-cm tart pan. Prick the base of the tart with a fork and refrigerate for at least 30 minutes. Preheat the oven to 375°F / 190°C. Place the tart shell on a baking sheet. Line the tart with parchment paper and fill it with dried beans. Bake until the pastry is just set, about 15 minutes. Remove the paper and beans and continue to cook until the pastry is a dark golden color, 10 to 15 minutes. Transfer the tart to a wire rack and leave to cool completely. Combine the sugar and butter in a deep, heavy saucepan over medium heat. Stir to mix and cook, stirring occasionally, until the butter and sugar caramelize, 10 to 15 minutes. The sugar and butter will go through several stages. First it will look like a flour and butter roux, then it will appear curdled, and then the butter will leak out of the sugar mixture. Don’t worry: it will all come together in the end. While the caramel is cooking, pour the cream into a saucepan and bring it to a boil over medium heat. Remove from the heat and set aside.

Salted Butter Tart

Keep stirring the butter and sugar mixture, watching carefully as it begins to caramelize and remembering that the heat in the pan will continue to cook the caramel once it is removed from the burner. You want a rich, dark caramel color, but you don’t want to burn the mixture, which will give it a bitter taste. When the caramel reaches the right color, remove the pan from the heat and slowly and carefully pour in the cream; the mixture will bubble and spit. When the caramel stops bubbling, return it to low heat and cook for 5 minutes, stirring to dissolve the caramel in the cream. Remove the pan from the heat and let the caramel cool for 10 minutes. Slowly pour the cooled caramel into the baked pastry shell and chill the tart for at least 2 hours. This tart is easier to cut when it is chilled. Remove the tart from the pan and, using a wet knife, cut it into wedges. Serve the tart at room temperature, however, for maximum flavor, with a dollop of whipped cream.

watermelon I

t didn’t take much math, but the innovative farmers of Zentsuji, Japan, have discovered a new way to cultivate a cumbersome fruit. Due to limitations in spatial capacity, the Japanese household is often too petite to accommodate colossal fruits like the summertime favorite, the watermelon. Americans, with their super size retail outlets like Costco and Wal-mart, are accustomed to shopping for an entire week’s worth of food in one go. But the Japanese people do not have such a luxury. On the island country, where most things are miniaturized to fit into what little space one is afforded, jumbo-sized watermelons are simply too big for most Japanese to buy. The Zentsuji farmers have solved this

predicament by forcing their watermelons to grow into a square shape. While the fruit is still on the vine, the melons are inserted into square, tempered glass cases. With boxes calculated to fit precisely onto refrigerator shelves, these melons are designed specifically for the Japanese refrigerator. But such convenience comes at a price. These cubic melons can cost 10,000 yen, (about $82.) There are no U.S. retailers offering the pricey cuboid fruits as of yet, but with the help of some tempered glass and a little elbow grease, you can grow your own square-shaped watermelon in the comfort of your own backyard by following the instructions below. Veronica Chan

HOW TO GROW YOUR OWN SQUARE WATERMELON: Materials and tools: You need 6, 8” square, 3/8” thick (or thicker) sheets of polycarbonate plastic. (Lexan)

Step 4: Trim the inset sides Measure the width of the sheets and trim each side of the the inset sides by this width.

Step 1: You will need 4 gate hinges and 2 hinged clasps with flat head machine screws and hex nuts plus at least 8 or more 1” to 1-1/2” long, thin wood screws and possibly a 36” length of angle iron or aluminum angle (cut to 8” lengths to yield four pieces) if you have thinner polycarbonate, a power drill and hole saw, and a hand saw or power saw such as a jig saw.

Step 5: Fasten sides The edges of the inset sides will have to be trimmed the thickness of the poly you use so they can be inset and still keep the box square. Trimming these edges is probably the hardest step. Drill pilot holes through edge of the left and right sheets into side sheets between them to accept the wood screws. Use 2 or more screws per joined edge. A piece of angle iron or aluminum can be used to beef up the corners if the polycarbonate you have is too thin. (If the poly is too thin, however, it may bulge.)

Step 2: Cut the stem pass through In the first sheet drill a 1” diameter hole in the center with the drill and hole saw. Then, using a hand or power saw, cut 2 parallel lines from the hole perpendicular to one edge of the sheet and remove the material between. Step 3: Add first set of hinges Use a box to rest the left side sheet, place the top sheet left edge over the left side sheet edge and fasten the sheets together as shown in the diagram with 2 hinges.

Step 6: Do the bottom Place the box on its top, add the last sheet for the bottom and secure with hinges as you did the top. Step 7: Add the clasps Clasps go opposite the hinges on the top and bottom sheets.

Wunderkammer wun • der • kam • mer -noun

1. “wonder room” in German 2. encyclopedic collections of types of objects whose categorical boundaries included natural history, geology, ethnography, archeology, religious or historical relics, works of art, and antiquities. Besides the most famous, best documented cabinets of rulers and aristocrats, members of the merchant class and early practitioners of science in Europe, formed collections that were precursors to museums.

Reinterpreting the traditional wunderkammer, we’ve compiled our own cabinet of curiosities, borrowing some gastonomical ephemera from various and sundry cabinets.

Louie Cordero, Artist Manila, Philippines Anita Lo, Chef Ariel Diliberto, Student Balut: I eat balut (duck Annisa and Bar Q • New York, NY Vassar College • Poughkeepsie, NY embryo) once a week. They say it strengthens Springerle molds: These Ulu: an all-purpose knife used Dried mullet roe: in its Goose fat: a great for cookby Inuit women. Traditionally used your knees. wooden molds are used in Gerwhole form is great shaved ing potatoes...or you could for anything from cutting hair to many to make cookies (usuover seafood. It brings a shove it under the turkey skinning animals. In our houseally white and anise-flavored). sweet, complex and deep breast skin to give it back hold, we usually just chop herbs “Springerle” means “little briny-ness to the dish. I used some of the fowl fat it lacks, with it. The handle is made out of knights.” They can be traced it last shaved over sauteed pe- especially if you’ve bought a antler, caribou I think, and ours is back to the 14th century and are conic bay scallops with a little wild one this year... engraved with my mom’s name, traditionally made out of wood. lemon and some braised curly Kimberly. My dad bought it for my We usually just use them as wall endive from my neighbor's garmom years ago. decorations. Actually, we only den. use them as wall decorations. Pichet Ong, Chef Batch and P*ONG • New York, NY

Grains of paradise & tonka bean:

I use some spices that are kind of unusual, which I use in everything from soups to desserts. I like savory ingredients such as goat cheese or flavored salts in dessert making, as well as dessert ingredients such as cocoa, tapioca, and caramels in savory dishes.

Michael Pardus, Professor Culinary Institute of America • Hyde Park, NY

Czech poppy seed grinder: This was brought from Czechoslovakia by my great grandmother and it was passed down to me from my grandmother. It’s used to grind poppy seeds for Kolach, our traditional family Christmas pastry.

Veronica Chan, Editor Volume Magazine • New York, NY

Mitchell Davis, Vice President The James Beard Foundation • New York, NY

Peanut Brittle: Lovingly made by nuns at a convent in the Philippines, this holy brittle, unlike most saccharine brittles that I have encountered, is subtly sweet and intensely nutty. Not only have they mastered the brittle, the sisters over at Good Shepherd also supposedly make a killer ube (taro) jam. (http://www. goodshepherdsisters.org.ph/mount.htm)

Tofu-making kit: a gift from a friend in Tokyo.

One of the things I loved in Japan was the fresh tofu everywhere. We went to restaurants that just served fresh tofu and it was so delicate and lightly flavored, I loved it. This kit allows you to make tofu from dried soybeans (usually you start with soybean milk) and to shape it into bricks in its own wooden box. I haven’t used it yet.

POLITICS

THE NSA TRYING TO KILL THIS MAN ?

BY STEVEN PHILLIPS-HORST

eff Boss is running for Governor of New Jersey. If he doesn’t win that race, he’ll run for Congress. This year, he has already run for the United States Senate and President, simultaneously, in the state of New Jersey. His campaign for the White House promoted greater government transparency, job creation and tax reform. He believes in fair elections and tough immigration laws, and he thinks the Iraq War was a bogus fight waged on trumped up evidence. He also believes the National Security Agency has tried to kill him multiple times. According to his website, jeffbossforpresident.org, Jeff Boss was privy to information indicating the government had advanced knowledge of the 9/11 attacks. While his platform aims to restore honesty and fairness to what he sees as a corrupt government, his claims about 9/11 and the NSA’s subsequent attempts on his life are what motivate him in his campaign. On November 4, 2008, almost 10,000 New Jersey residents supported Jeff Boss in his bid for the United States Senate, checking the box for the “Vote Here” party on the New Jersey ballot. It wasn’t enough to win either the presidency or the senate. Undeterred, he has forged ahead with his next political campaign. The goal, he insists, isn’t winning, but rather, by running for public office, he can draw attention to what he sees as a massive government conspiracy to conceal something about September 11th and assassinate him in the process. He has agreed to meet me the weekend after the national elections, at a neutral location in Greenwich Village. Mr. Boss is waiting for me, ahead of schedule, camcorder in hand, inexplicably filming the banal goings-on inside Starbucks on Washington Square. He is a stout man, clad in a fitted blazer, loose khakis, cross-trainers and a baseball cap adorned with an embroidered American flag. He extends a warm handshake and wastes no time launching into his spiel: “Hi, I’m Jeff Boss. I’m running for governor in New Jersey, Democratic Primary, June 2009.” The key terms fly out in succession as he maintains eye contact. He offers the same pitch to a student in the elevator (I had decided to move the interview to a nearby building at New York University.) Jeff Boss isn’t like other presidential candidates. He doesn’t have a campaign staff. He lists his home phone number and personal e-mail address on his website. He lives with his mom. But there are elements to his character that are not dissimilar from the beltway politicians: he’s an affable guy who will talk to anyone and everyone about his

political aspirations. He repeats himself in the way that only seasoned politicians can, peppering conversation with lines from his stump speech, always making sure to work in his talking points into a response no matter how unrelated the question. “I’m on a mission to save America,” he begins. “It may sound like a lot to say.” He speaks fervently when he says the nation is headed in the wrong direction. He abhors how the Bush administration has trampled on the constitution to justify its domestic and foreign agendas. But he is eager to get to the conspiracy talk. According to Mr. Boss, he has a list of some sixty people that he knows personally who have been murdered by the NSA in the past seven and half years. “The guy who worked on my campaign, first guy I hired on my campaign—he had a lot of contacts—he survived, he had a massive heart attack.” He explains the government’s preferred method of assassination: “They put a little oil in your food. They put enough in over a six-month period [and] you have a heart attack. No one notices.” And how does the poison taste? “If it tasted like the best pizza you’ve ever tasted, that’s the poison. You’ll know, because it tastes better than any you’ve ever had. It’ll taste like you haven’t eaten food in a week.” “The last seven and a half years. I know people in their 20 30s and 40s, all who’ve had heart attacks. You’ve got nothing to worry about it,” he assures me. “If I thought there was going to be danger, I wouldn’t have met you.” Even as the body count rises, the gubernatorial candidate remains upbeat. I ask who is the closest person to him that has died. “So many people.” He pauses for a moment and chuckles. “My uncle, my best friend, my ex girlfriend, another ex girlfriend, my cousin, my grandmother, my little dog, my other dog. See, my ex-girlfriend, Christine, she…we got someone walking by, let’s just uh…” He interrupts the anecdote about the murdered ex-girlfriend, gesturing towards a girl passing by. “See the NSA will—I have a little device here—“ He pulls out a black box about the size of an electric pencil sharpener from his breast pocket. He turns a knob on the box. It begins to emit a static noise from a speaker. Why a jamming device would need to make a loud sound to ob-

struct radio waves is unclear, other than to notify everyone in the vicinity of your intent to disrupt their communications. “This device—do you see how she grabbed her ear, are you watching her?” The female student performs what could at most be described as a minor coif adjustment, lightly brushing back her hair behind her ear, never actually touching the ear itself. This distinction isn’t relevant to Boss. “The CIA, the NSA—they wear miniature ear pieces. They’ll listen to what’s going on around them, they want to hear what’s going on. This machine is an air horn that hits a frequency they’re listening to—it puts an air horn in their head. That’s why she’s touching her ear, she’ trying to get the noise of out her head. She’s trying to be real cool about it. It’s painful. If I turn it up loud enough I’ll knock her to the ground. And I don’t want to do that. That wouldn’t be right.” In a merciful show of restraint, he allows the alleged NSA operative to continue down the hallway, her sense of hearing left largely intact. He shows a surprising amount of understanding for those who work in government intelligence, despite what he believes to be their complicity in the deaths of several dozen of his closest friends. “I don’t care if you’re NSA,” he tells me. With his publicized run for office, “it’s all out in the open now. They can’t touch me.” “An insurance policy?” I offer. “Exactly!” He continues to tell the story of the alleged murder of his ex-girlfriend, Christine. Before her death, she was, according to Mr. Boss, having an affair with a married Congressman, an association Boss believed could be exploited to raise awareness for his predicament. He called her to tell her “the story,” the one story Jeff Boss can’t seem to stop telling everyone—the girl in the NYU elevator (was she NSA, too?) the guard at the desk downstairs (“definitely a plant,” he assured me) and certainly all the New Jersey residents who voted for him. It is the story of how his family connection led him to believe that the U.S. government knew, as early as March 2001, that Khalid Shaikh Mohammed had plans to fly planes into buildings inside the U.S. According to his website, he “WITNESSED A PERSON WITH THE HIGHEST CLEARANCE AND HIGH UP IN THE NSA TELL ME THE NAMES OF THE PEOPLE INVOLVED

“She didn’t hear the names,

she didn’t hear the dates, but she heard them talking

flying planes into buildings.” about

WITH THE 911 ATTACK IN MARCH OF 2001 IN WASHINGTON D.C.. THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT HELPING RAMSI YOUSEF(RESPONSIBLE FOR THE 93 BOMBING AT THE WORLD TRADE CENTER)FROM THE NSA SECRET PRISON IN ALEXANDRIA VA CALL HIS UNCLE KOLID SHEIK MOHAMMED [sic] (CONSIDERED.THE MASTERMIND OF THE 911 ATTACK) AND THEY WERE TALKING ABOUT FLYING PLANES INTO BUILDINGS. I NEVER HEARD THE DATES OR THE NAMES OF THE BUILDINGS AND I NEVER THOUGHT ANYTHING WOULDEVER [sic] HAPPEN.” The capitals are his. To listen to Jeff Boss recount the story in person is to hear a report only slightly more coherent in its delivery. His use of all capitals is apt; if anyone could speak in all capitals, they might sound like Jeff Boss—all frenetic energy, disjointed syntax and phrases that seem to fall over one another in an attempt to reach an ever-elusive point. Probe for details and you’ll find elements of a compelling narrative, but he never seems to believe in the power of the story enough to let it flow from point to point, instead always jumping ahead to the present, brushing over the chronology. Perhaps it’s because he assumes, rightly so, that most people aren’t going to believe him anyway. As he tells it, the “PERSON WITH THE HIGHEST CLEARANCE” is his sister-in-law, who spilled the beans about her conversations with Ramsi Yousef at her wedding party in March of 2001. According to Boss, if it hadn’t been for her confession, he never would’ve known what he did and been forced to launch his crusade against the NSA following their attempts on his life and the lives of his friends. So why would this woman, if she were a high-ranking government intelligence officer, let her brother-in-law in on the sensitive information? “She never said anything before,” Boss explains. “I don’t know why she said something. I wish she never opened her mouth.” In as much detail as he can give, Boss describes the operation his sister-in-law was apparently involved in: “she was helping [Yousef] from the prison in Alexandria, Virginia. He was supposed to be at the maximum-security prison in Colorado. Ramsi Yousef calls his uncle Khalid Shaikh Mohammed and some of other his friends. Bin laden. She was helping to make the phone calls… she was making hundreds of phone calls. She’s giving them a phone card and saying, ‘hey call your friends.’ She didn’t hear the names, she didn’t hear the dates, but she heard them talking about flying

panes into buildings.” Giving a known terrorist a phone card to chat with his buddies seems counterproductive, unless the government was trying to glean some intelligence from the exchange. But Boss doesn’t believe that’s the reason she was involved in the alleged operation and when pressed, he doesn’t seem to care as to what the real motive was. Considering the circumstances, he displays a striking lack of curiosity. The ex-girlfriend, Christine Getlein, an identity this reporter could not confirm, was instructed by Boss to inform her congressional paramour of the plot to cover up 9/11 immediately after their phone call. “She never made it,” says Boss. When pressed as to which congressman, he lets out a little too hardy of a laugh—“I don’t remember! I have it written down somewhere, I’ll look it up.” It becomes clear that much of Jeff Boss’s proof—proof of the NSA’s attempts on his life; proof that nearly everyone he encounters on a daily basis is actually NSA; proof that the government had advanced knowledge of the 9/11 attacks—all lies elsewhere, in documents, video tapes, photocopies and other assorted artifacts. “The war in Iraq was about the oil,” he asserts. “I saw some classified papers.” That the incentive to go to war in Iraq was at least partially related to that country’s oil supply isn’t exactly controHow do you versial in 2008. Yet he offers up the classified documents anyway. Boss is correct in assuming that documentation may add legitimacy to his outlandish claims. But his arguments are still too easy to debunk. His court documents are hand-written. Following up on the copious names and phone numbers of ex-colleagues and lawyers he has to offer yields one dead end after another. To Boss, the dead ends are only further proof. For some of his allegedly murdered friends, the only proof he has that they’re dead is that he assumes he has spoken with an NSA-planted voice double on the phone since he has last seen them. For a politician, many of his beliefs require a remarkable leap of faith, and yet it is one that thousands are still ready to take. Jeff Boss wasn’t always interested in politics. Before his crusade against the NSA began in 2001, he worked in finance for years. He toiled at Morgan Stanley’s “road show” desk in the nineties, where he saw some of the era’s biggest companies make their IPO’s, including AOL, Donna Karan, Dreamworks and Lucent. Although he did not facilitate the big deals, he made travel arrangements, and at one point

“Her shoe size went from 6 to 8!

explain that?”

opposite page: Jeff Boss

every breath you take

worked from Morgan Stanley’s Hong Kong office, where he did business with telecom companies from China and India. By 2001, he had left Morgan Stanley for First Montauk, a financial services firm based in New Jersey. It was while working at Montauk that he was supposed to report to work at their office in the World Trade Center in New York. September 11th was meant to be his first day in the new office. As Boss recounts, he was told to arrive at 7:30 am, earlier than usual, and was yelled at by his boss not to be late. The implication is that his former employer was tipped off by the government, who knew where and when the attacks would take place on September 11th, so that they could place Boss in the towers at the right time and get rid of him. No one at First Montauk remembers Jeff Boss working there, but according to their records he was employed there from May to November of 2001. They did indeed have offices in the World Trade Center. The employee this reporter spoke with at First Montauk assured me that further investigating wouldn’t yield anyone who remembered working with him. It is the kind of dead end that might reinforce a paranoid person’s conception of reality, and it is clear that in Jeff Boss’s world there are likely to be many opportunities to produce this sort of non-evidence. People who know Jeff Boss vary from offering praise to wanting nothing to do with him. His ex-wife, Valerie Boss, refused to be interviewed for this story, perhaps because he accused her of being a double. Boss is convinced that his wife of many years, with whom he has two children, was replaced by the NSA with a near-identical version of herself. “Her shoe size went from 6 to 8!” he exclaims. “How do you explain that?” In fact, as the mother of two children, it is highly conceivable that her feet may have grown slightly with each child. During pregnancy, the body releases a chemical called relaxin, which loosens the ligaments between bones, in order to ease the expansion of the ribcage, allowing the fetus room to grow. The chemical affects cartilage throughout the body, and can effectively flatten out the arches in one’s feet, making them go up a shoe size. It is a common enough occurrence in most women. For Boss, it’s just one more thing that confirms his suspicions about the lengths the NSA would go to destroy his life. He also contends that, in addition to trying to kill him with “POISEN [sic] CIGARETTES,” the NSA placed surveillance equipment in his car. He produces a photocopied letter from Security Zone International, Inc., a spy shop in the West Vil-

lage in New York City. It says that their counter-surveillance detection equipment indicated “R.F. activity was originating form Mr. Boss’s vehicle.” Boss used the letter as supporting evidence when he filed a handwritten restraining order against the NSA in a New Jersey court. The motion was dismissed. Joseph Brocia at Security Zone International says he remembers Jeff Boss coming into the store in February. Even as someone who sells spy equipment to people who probably aren’t embroiled in government intelligence conspiracies, Brocia still laughed when he heard Boss’s name. Mr. Brocia did perform the test described in the letter, but the results were “inconclusive,” he says. “It could’ve been his car acting as an antennae,” he offers as an example, making it clear that it would be silly to draw the conclusion that there was any sort of surveillance device implanted in the car. Boss is a capable man. He was able to work in the financial industry for years, during which he made enough money to continue to live on and fund his admittedly low-budget political campaigns. In his teens, he took a job at an airport, where he learned to fly planes. According to Boss, he also started a company in 2002 called Immortal Corporation. Immortal aims to freeze dead pets in the hopes that they may be reanimated in the future once the appropriate technology becomes available. He says he has frozen five cats and one dog so far but has yet to turn a profit. Whether or not he has solid business acumen, he exhibits uncommon ambition. His mother, who asked not to be

named in this story, says he was always an “independent thinker.” She advised me sternly against printing anything regarding Boss’s conspiracy theories, including the September 11th information. She tries to explain that his conclusions are drawn mostly from association-- the sort of “six degrees of separation” proofs favored by conspiracy theorists. (Boss even pointed out that the date he learned about the phone calls subtracted from the date of his sister-inlaw’s birthday equals 911, which, although a keen connection, seems an odd reason for the NSA to select Boss as a target). Still, she supports his right to believe in whatever he wishes, and she admires his initiative, noting that he has run a presidential campaign, as well as a senatorial campaign, on a budget of almost zero dollars. Jeff Boss views the world in a certain way. To him, the NSA is after him for a set of very specific reasons. Any shred of information he encounters, any person he meets, any event he witnesses, no matter how incongruent with that worldview, seems to get manipulated to fit with what he already believes. His behavior is most commonly linked with paranoia, a medical condition that can be a subtype of schizophrenia. Those who suffer from paranoid schizophrenia often have the fewest functional impairments of all schizophrenia patients. Not only can these individuals put a sentence together, but they can hold down a job, start families and be highly social people. Dr. Bill Fisher, Clinical Director at the Creedmore State Psychiatric Center in Queens, New York, says that a diagnosis of paranoia indicates someone who is “completely out of touch with reality.” He also notes that there are many people who may have these delusions, but because of their high level of social ability, “you might never even know if you didn’t ask the right questions.” The causes of paranoia are likely both genetic and environmental, although the environmental factors most likely come into play before birth, i.e. during pregnancy. It is also possible that in one’s formative years, somebody might be “a little odd,” says Fisher, but then they might experience some “traumatic event that may push [them] over.” Still, he stresses that the data are not substantial on these issues. Not enough studies have been done to pinpoint the true causes of the condition. In addition to paranoid schizophrenia, there are also those who are just plain paranoid, as well as those who suffer from “delusional disorder.” Dr.

Paranoia

Fisher says that even believing that their close friends may have been doubled is actually a relatively common affliction among some of his patients. That sort of delusion—that someone you know has been replaced—is an old idea. Now that cloning has become so ubiquitous, there is perhaps a further explanation for the delusion, but the concept remains the same. Dr. Douglas Horst, Co-Director of the Gastroenterology Fellowship Training Program at Beth Israel Deaconess Medical Center in Boston, Massachusetts, notes that the human brain has a “strong need to make thing synchronous.” He says we have a great deal of difficulty handling things that contradict each other. When something doesn’t coincide with what we believe to be true, we either throw that information out, or change it to fit our perceived reality. In that respect, paranoia is, to some extent, a question of degree. How far is someone willing to go to alter the facts they receive in order to harmonize them with their vision of the world? Towards the end of the end of our interview, Boss tells me that he has something extremely important to say, something that affects my safety as well as his. Taking out his little black box once again, he flips the switch, and turns the volume on high. He leans in across the table very close and looks me in the eye. “What I’m about to tell you, you can’t tell anyone else,” he warns in a stage whisper. “The NSA has a code system to identify themselves. You gotta wear an American flag. See this?” he asks, pointing to his cap emblazoned with the American flag. “They all wear it. That’s how they know each other. Wear one of these flags, a pin, a shirt, whatever and they won’t kill you.” He continues and I have to lean in closer as the white noise blares disruptively from the signal jammer. “What I do when I’m in a park is I take my hat off and I put it on the ground. That’s the signal. That’s their distress signal, it lets them know you’re one of them and you’re in trouble.” He demonstrates excitedly, hopping from his chair and placing his ball cap on the floor. It is clearly a practiced maneuver. Before we part ways, he advises me to get some sort of American flag signifier of my own. “Put a sticker on your car, put one on your doormat. Wear a pin. Just promise me you’ll get one.” I haven’t bought a flag yet. So far, so good.

indicates

someone who is completely out of touch with reality.

This page: K’nex

THOUGHT

OUT OF

MIND

HER

BY MICHAEL STOLTE

Jill Bolte Taylor suffered a stroke in 1996. Since then, she has published a book in which she recounts her unexpected metaphysical journey in search of human consciousness.

he could have died. On a bleak morning in 1996, thirty-seven year-old Jill Bolte Taylor woke to a pulsating pain in her head. She felt her temple. The veins were throbbing and punching in and out, in and out. She closed her eyes. Thoughts trickled through her mind as she searched for the meaning of these strange aches – she rarely got headaches, let alone migraines. But somewhere behind her left eye, she located a knot, the source of the pain. Taylor wasn’t sure what this was exactly, if anything at all. She got up and moved to the bathroom. There, she stood awkwardly in the tub, leaning against a wall of white tiles. She turned on the faucet and blenched at the sound of the running water. It was piercingly loud. At that point, Taylor noticed a change in her mental stability. “My verbal thoughts were now

inconsistent, fragmented, and interrupted by an intermittent silence,” she says. “As my brain chatter began to disintegrate, I felt an odd sense of isolation.” What happened next in that bathroom is what Taylor describes as a “mystical, metaphysical experience.” She had a stroke. Yet, while her brain was hemorrhaging, Taylor was able to recognize this fact and observe herself in the moment. Not only did she survive, she also published her findings in a book, A Stroke of Insight, in which she recounts her unexpected metaphysical journey into the inner workings of the human mind. What is going on? What is happening in my brain? Taylor asked herself these questions while standing in the bathroom, alone, shaky and confused. She recalls, “By this point I had lost touch with much of the physical three-dimensional reality that surrounded me.” While propped up against the shower wall, Taylor noticed something strange. “I found it odd that I was aware that I could no longer clearly discern the physical boundaries of where I began and where I ended. Instead, I now blended in with the space and flow around me.” If Taylor’s stroke sounds strangely psychedelic, that’s because it was. To many, it sounds like an LSD trip. “I hear a lot of that,” she laughs. However, she has also found surprising comparisons between these two experiences. As she explains, both essentially shut down certain brain circuitries while activating others. The result is a distorted perception of time and an altered awareness of the body. The only difference between these two experiences is the duration of the trip: LSD lasts maybe 12 hours. Taylor’s trip lasted eight years. During that time, she underwent various therapies in an effort to repair the damage caused by the stroke. It was the left hemisphere of her brain that had hemorrhaged, leaving her unable to speak, read, write, or remember. She made a full recovery, though, which she attributes to her extant understanding of the human brain – Taylor is a neuroanatomist. In recent months, she has become a sort of celebrity, too. Her neurological episode has landed her on both Oprah and NPR, and her online lecture series is a favorite among scientists and scholars alike. The truth is, her newfound insight into the capabilities of the human brain offers as much to academics as it does to us all. Her detailed account of the bodily response to a stroke raises questions regarding the ontology of the human

mind. What is human consciousness? “Feeling detached from normal reality, I felt as though I was observing myself in motion, as in the playback of a memory, as if my conscious mind was suspended somewhere between my normal reality and some esoteric space.” In this excerpt from her book, Taylor describes how at the onslaught of her stroke, she noted a change in the cognitive state of her mind. No longer was she experiencing the moment first-hand, but rather, she was watching herself from a space slightly removed. Where she was or how she got there, she did not know. While recalling how she could feel and recognize the damage being done to her brain in real time, Taylor says, “As the language centers in my left hemisphere grew increasingly silent, my consciousness soared into an all-knowingness, a “being at one” with the universe, if you will.” Alas, Taylor’s mind made the move – it separated from her brain and rose to a place outside her body. But in this space, she is not alone. Here, an international body of scientists and physicians are exploring the nature of human consciousness. It’s called the Human Consciousness Project, or HCP. In recent years, a number of scientific studies conducted by HCP researchers have found that as many as 10 to 20 percent of individuals who undergo cardiac arrest report lucid, well-structured memories of their episodes. “What makes these experiences remarkable,” cites an HCP representative, “is that while studies of the brain during cardiac arrest have consistently shown that there is no brain activity during this period, these individuals have reported detailed perceptions that appear to indicate the presence of a high-level of consciousness in the absence of measurable brain activity.” Therefore, the working hypothesis on which HCP operates is that human consciousness may in fact function at a time when the clinical criteria of death are fully present and the brain has ceased functioning. This is all to say that the mind may live on even after bodily death. Right now, too little is known or understood about the ontology of the human mind to make any further conclusions. Yet, the Human Consciousness Project seems promising. In time, it may reveal what the human mind really is and how it functions with the brain. So what is human consciousness? For now, we do not know. But soon, the answer may well reveal itself. And ourselves.

This page: an artistâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s rendering of the zodiac.

PATHWAYS TO NIRVANA

When threaded through time, mass suicide displays a peculiar behavior. “Cult” groups have sometimes committed themselves to such an act as a means of transcendence. In doing so, they fall victim to what one psychologist calls, “magical thinking.”

1978

1994 Guyana, 1978: Jim Jones leads 918 members of the Peoples’ Temple in mass suicide in order to escape the impending evils he believed they faced. The poison? Cyanide-laced KoolAid. Switzerland, 1994: The Order of the Solar Temple commits 74 members to death, after performing the ritual sacrifice of a newborn. California, 1997: Suited in purple cloaks and Nike Dunks, 39 members of Heaven’s Gate commit mass suicide in order to reach the next phase of Earth’s life cycle. The reason for the suit? They were headed to space!

1997

DISPATCHES

JOURNEY TO THE BOTTOM OF THE

EARTH T

he mysterious seventh continent, formerly explored by a few researchers and military personnel, has become the next frontier of Earth travel. Antarctica is no longer just a National Geographic special. It is becoming a vacation destination for those who can afford the luxe price tag. Nancy Wu, a senior in NYU’s Stern School of Business, rang in 2008 in Antarctica with her family. Leaving from Ushuaia at the tip of Argentina, the southernmost city in the world, Nancy spent a week cruising through massive glaciers and icebergs, catching sight of noisy penguin colonies, decaying whale bones and lazy seals lounging

on rocks before their next hunt in the frigid sea. But a polar expedition doesn’t mean roughing it. The modern Antarctic voyage is full of the comforts and luxuries of a five-star vacation. On the “Marco Polo,” a luxury liner that cruises the icy waters, the kitchen serves four-course meals and artisan desserts. There is even a pool on deck. Of course, this sort of extravagance doesn’t come cheap. The cruise alone comes to nearly $4000 per person, on top of the costs of traveling to Ushuaia and the required weatherproof boots (the large red jumpsuits, however, were provided free of charge).

Price tag aside, this travel trend is not for the faint of heart. “You can’t relax, you have to work,” Nancy said. “You can’t pee whenever you want to when you’re on land, and you have to abide by all of the laws to protect the habitat.” Aside from the frigid weather and guaranteed motion sickness from the rocking boat, Nancy said she was amazed by the beauty and isolation of the landscape. “This is all scenery—I was looking at God’s creation rather than man’s creation,” she said. “It’s a lot more impressive.” Brittney Wilcox

THE

HIDDEN VORTEX: WANAQUE, NEW JERSEY BY

BRITTNEY WILCOX

Manhattan may boast of its frenetic pace, but 40 miles outside New York City is where the real energy reverberates. Aside from the interstate that runs through it, Wanaque, New Jersey seems quiet and quaint. With a population of 11,000 and a main attraction of a pristine resevoir, Wanaque doesn’t get much attention. But maybe it should. In fact, beginning in 1964 and continuing for the next few years, this town reported frequent UFO sightings. In a short memoir piece, “Close Encounters,” published in 2004, Dan Barry of the New York Times described his father’s excitement and their family’s subsequent adventure to the resevoir to see the phenomena for themselves (which, to the father’s disappointment, was unfruitful). Since then, Wanaque has been the site of much speculation about alien activity. Bryan Williams, a resident of Wanaque, had an alien encounter at his house when he was just four years old. Since then, he says he has had psychic communication with alien energies, and this sensitivity to energy guided him to the Wanaque Vortex. Williams has pioneered a small movement to learn more about the energy and beings, called Endorians, that may be concentrated in Wanaque. Williams and his team, Team Orb,

believe that this small town hosts a gateway to another dimension. They have documented orb-like appearances on film, and believe that these orbs are a kind of sensor from extraterrestrial beings to keep surveillance on Earth. At this point, Williams says, there is no reason to fear the orbs or the beings that send them. He believes that they have positive intentions, even to warn humanity of the impending consequences we will face in our own planet if we continue on our destructive track. Team Orb continues to investigate the unfamiliar presence in New Jersey, and cites evidence from scientific specialists to confirm their findings. But why would alien life forms want to send surveillance technology to New Jersey? One aspect of the equation is that this small town rests on

Delaware Tribal land, the location of sacred burial grounds, where members of the Chippewah Nation previously sought to recognize and honor the spirits of the earth. As in many other hallowed ground around the world, including Stonehenge in England (where druids worshiped), and Sedona, Arizona (another Native American sacred site), a high level of Earth’s energy is concentrated here. These energy vortexes--electromagnetic or other--can be tested with a special magnetized pin that points the observer to where the energy is flowing. At Stonehenge visitors can take a tour that includes these tests, although no such tour is advertised in Wanaque. In Sedona, Arizona, an area famous for paranormal happenings and miraculous healing, there are maps and guides on how to find the concentratios of energy. But some say they

don’t need a map to recognize the energy they sense pulsing through their bodies. The Wanaque Vortex is much more subtle. So understated, in fact, that it’s difficult to distinguish the “vortex” from the rest of Passaic County, New Jersey. The UFO and orb sightings have become somewhat of a local legend and mystery. When reporters from Volume visited the site, it was nearly impossible to find, but fortunately local Christmas shop employees gave clear directions (with a smirk...). The site, located near a Defense Munitions Plant, looks like an abandoned backyard valley beween several hills. I-287 runs over the unkempt field, accessed by an uneven gravel and dirt path. Random discarded objects litter the area, including an old car bumper and empty soda bottles. Three young men arrived at the path, on a similar hunt for the elusive energy vortex. They discreetly explored the area, being careful to avoid any extended contact with the Volume staff, then disappeared behind the columns of the overpass. Aside from these vortex hunters, there was no sign of any life or being. No sight of the doorway to another dimension. Just the rustle of the wind through the trees, the swaying of the overgrown grass, and the grafitti faces that cover the pillars of the overpass, eerily watching the field--the only visible evidence of surveillance.

if you look really closely, you can see

downtown in the fourth dimension

iâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll be watching you

the fourth dimension. it’s like ‘magic eye’

Vor-

tomb raider Photos by Michael Donovan

canâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;tturn

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