Tuesday, November 3, 2015

Tonight November 3rd 2015

Join me as I appear on Clay Smith's radio show
Spirit Watch Radio
Tonight 11/3/15 at 8PM

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

My pleasure to be on Ken Deel's show again (It's been 7 years, the time flies!) tune in or listen to the podcast!

Thursday, September 10, 2015

Join me on Live Paranormal Radio

Tonight at 8PM EST join me as I am a guest on the Eerie Voices radio show. Host Chad Cornell and I will discuss various paranormal topics and unexplained mysteries. And if you miss it you can always check out the podcast!
Go to Eerie Voices

Monday, June 1, 2015

Charlie, Charlie a viral marketing stunt

Viral marketing is best when its not noticeable as viral marketing. That is what happened with the latest twitter trend, the #CharlieCharlieChallenge. It seems it was all a viral marketing plot to raise awareness of a new movie  The Gallows from Warner Brothers. 

Many doubt that it is just a viral marketing campaign, and it is, in essence not just a viral marketing campaign. Anything that asks youth to summon a demon is not a great thing. Even if you do not believe in demons. Many people can be manipulated into believing supernatural forces are at work to ruin their lives, and it could be that Charlie Charlie is going to have an impact on the mental well being and emotional stability of a small but impressionable portion of the population.

Of course, tradition and experience tells me that if you open yourself up to demonic influence it can have a catastrophic influence on others. Real spirits can enter in and take that challenge even if it was not intended for them. Because you have announced that you want to play. And boy, they want to play as well. But you are the toy.

However, real possession or oppression is very rare, and the majority of those playing the #charliechalriechallenge will never have a problem and chalk the experience up as a weird trend they participated in, like the ice bucket challenge of last year. But because it never has affect you in a negative way, does not mean it could not affect someone else. It can be a trigger for an emotional incident, or it could be the opening of a dark portal for someone's sanity. We tend to forget we are not all the same and something that seems silly to some can be devastating to others.

I just hope this is the beginning of the end for the #charliecharliechallenge

Saturday, February 21, 2015

Vintage UFO chart

From i09 via the UK national archives, here is a great classic UFO chart of various UFO shapes seen over the past decades!

Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Recent Resurrections and the Zombie Apocalypse

In the past few weeks there have been 2 disturbing stories about people who  were declared dead rising from the grave...so to speak.  First there was the report that 2 Ebola patients from Africa rose from the grave, this first came to public awareness in this allAfrica news article:

Then just this week we hear another story from greece where a woman was buried only for people at the funeral to hear the woman screaming inside the burial vault, and there was an attempt to rescue her, but she had died of asphyxiation before they could get her out of the ground.

So what is going on here? Is a zombie apocalypse drawing nigh?

Throughout history physicians have made mistakes and patients have been prematurely pronounced dead. You still hear about it once in a while in modern times, when someone 'awakes' in the morgue. But it became so rampant and such a fear that in the 17th and 18th centuries many people were buried with what was essentially a premature burial alarm system.
If the person buried would regain consciousness, they would pull the cable  and the bell would ring.
Can you imagine walking in a cemetery only to hear those bells ring? But according to various accounts, some were actually rescued by this system.

Today with our modern technology, a misdiagnosis of death is quite rare, but it still happens. Usually the patient's recovery is a short lived one. They awake in the morgue or embalmers table and are rushed to the Emergency Room at a local hospital, only to die soon after. The illness was mortal, but the doctors a bit premature. 

So Zombie Apocalypse? Naw. But then again you never know!
Someone call Norman Reedus!
Until Next Time,
Pastor Swope

Friday, September 12, 2014

The Beast in the Dark

In the summer of 1986, the time between my sophomore and junior year at Nyack College, I went on a summer long missionary assignment to West Africa.

It was an exciting time; we travelled through the jungle and bush land to get to the missionary compound in Burkina Faso. The culture was in the throes of change, pro Khadafy militants had just seized the capital the year before and the country was full of militants with guns. Even the children had guns! I remember well our driver giving a ride to a girl of 8 or 9 who wielded an AK-47 very nonchalantly as it bounced up and down with the barrel pointed toward my head as we made our way down the pot hole littered dirt road in the wilderness. Yes, these were exciting times indeed!

But however chilling the civil turmoil was at the time, the real off putting situations in which I found myself in that summer were in the realm of the supernatural.

I've talked about some of them before, most notably the encounter with a cryptid worshiped as a god of fertility by locals around Banfora. But most of my time in Burkina Faso was on the road, going from remote town to remote town to preach, sing and show a movie on the life of Christ. We would pull into a small remote town on the savanna which was home to a mere handful of mud brick buildings in the afternoon and by evening the entire area was filled with thousands of people. They had come from miles around just to see a movie and hear songs songs and a message. In the evening, after the show, we often had a wide array of hosts who gave us a place to sleep overnight. Some were indigenous church leaders, fellow missionaries and relief workers.

It was one evening after a large gathering in a remote village that I had a very odd and disturbing encounter at a relief worker’s home.

The relief worker welcomed us into his small home. He was in the deep savannah to help with agricultural and modern infrastructures for the many small villages in the area. In this remote location, the well water was infested with parasites. The outhouses were crawling with flying cockroaches that were a half foot long. And the house itself was small, there was only one bedroom. So with a group of our size, one person had to sleep outside and I volunteered. There were rumors of bands of robbers that traversed the scant forested areas that appeared hodge podge over the countryside. While they rarely came close to these remote villages, I was told to take my bush knife with me as I made my bed atop our aged and battered Land Rover.  
The village was located on the edge of one of the sparse wooded areas, where most of the trees were cultivated bananas of various height. The dirt road where the aid worker resided contained six to eight mud brick buildings and a few concrete block houses. The wide road was one of two in the village and it was on the main north-south highway that connected the larger towns to the south with the capital to the north. The only electricity in the area came from our generators which lay within the Rover that I slept upon, so the street was pitch black.

The darkness that you encountered at night in Africa is different than the darkness which you encounter during nights in most American cities. Often in America the light pollution dulls the brilliance of the night sky; but in Africa with there not being a light for almost a hundred miles, the skies are alive.

I was lying back enjoying the view of the cosmos before me when I heard something move at the end of the street. Lying flat, I tilted my head in the direction of the noise and in the pitch black I saw movement. It was something BIG. A large black shape meandered through the street, heading slowly in my direction. I froze in fear as I realized this massive shape moved on four legs, with a pronounced pelvic swing as it moved. If I was in North America, I would have sworn that it was a bear that was moving through that deserted evening street in darkest Africa. But it was Africa, and there were no such native creatures as this for hundreds of miles. Lions once roamed the savanna territory, but the last one to be seen in the area was over a hundred years before this. Whatever it was, it made its way to the parked Rover and began to circle the vehicle. I barely heard a thing, but I saw the shadow pace around the vehicle for a tense minute or two. I had slowly pulled my bush blade out of its sheath, expecting whatever animal it was to suddenly jump in attack. But it never did. Whatever it was finally walked away and I heard the occasional ruffle slowly recede behind me.

What was it I encountered that hot summer in Africa decades ago?

Was it a straying lion, roaming back into ancestral territory? Physically, that could be the only explanation. However, there were old missionary stories of shaman who could shape shift and prowl the savanna at night. Many had claimed to see a shaman transform into a giant snake or jungle cat. Or could it have been a territorial spirit, taking a shape to inspire fear? I had heard many stories as such while in the area as well. Or maybe it was the specter of a long lost pride of lions who had roamed the area for millennia until climate change had turned their lush jungle into a dry desert borderland.

I will never know, but I am glad it went away. I had never prayed so hard in my life.

Until Next Time,
Pastor Swope