An odd thing happened in both religion and science on the way from the past to the present.
Historically speaking, it is well known and accepted that in the Middle Ages the Christian church was the principal sponsor of education in Western cultures. The church held a tight rein. If you wanted an education, you first became a cleric. Thus it was that most scientists and scholars, before the Renaissance, arose from among the clergy of the day. Their worldview was shaped almost entirely by church dogma.
The split
When the Protestant reformation movement began, which eventually gave us the plethora of modern religious sects we see around us today, its earliest leaders came from among those same clerical ranks — Martin Luther, for example. They sought to reform the institutions and dogma of Roman Catholicism.
Ironically, at about the same time, the scholars and scientists as well sought to extricate themselves from the mother church and its orthodox religious dogma, which hindered real intellectual progress. Like their religious cousins, they sought a complete divorce from Roman Catholicism. So in a very real sense, science was simply another religion, a radical protesting faction born of the same milieu that gave rise to Protestantism.
Both catastrophist
The new religions turned to Bible fundamentals for their belief system, hence the term fundamentalism. The new sciences, however, had to invent their own catechism. Secular universities were founded to educate adherents in the new orthodoxy of science and scholasticism. Skepticism and empiricism replaced faith. Yet, not surprisingly, the two new offspring, science and breakaway religion, retained a considerable amount of dogma from the parent church. At the outset, they both shared the Creationist vision (Earth’s creation in seven days, Man’s creation from the dust, the Deluge shaped the world as we se it, etc.). They also shared a similar eschatology: The world would end in a new holocaust sent by the Creator. Thus, it can be said that both were catastrophist.
Ideological ‘drift’
Over time, science further refined its liturgy and its curriculum with doctrines such as Gradualism and Natural Selection. The two institutions — science and religion — drifted further apart over time, becoming more antagonistic and confrontational. In the 19th century, science eventually became patently uniformitarian and evolutionist while religion remained dogmatically catastrophist and creationist.
Ironically, an evangelistic spirit arose in both religion and science, each seeking to win disciples through proselytism. Naturally, a dissension emerged between the two that had not existed as long as the parent church dominated. While they were both trolling the same waters for believers, religion and science each won their own following or ‘congregation,’ if you will. Religion primarily held the hearts of the laymen, while science largely captured the hearts of the intellectuals. To begin with, there were few with feet in both camps.
Furthermore, science divested itself of any eschatology, while religion embraced it more fervently than ever. “Hellfire and damnation” were the watchwords heard from the pulpits of Christendom. On the other hand, if there were to be an end to the world, the scholars declared, it would come not by a god, but by slow, prolonged entropy, Earth’s life failing only when the life-giving light of the sun finally flickered and died. The religionists, on the other hand, retained the fervent belief in the penultimate holocaust, the final, catastrophic destruction of the world and all in it at its creator’s hand.
A revolution in thought
Then the nuclear age dawned, bringing with it a revolution in thought and an astonishing meeting of the minds in both camps.
The first nuclear detonations at the end of World War II brought some agreement between science and religion about the world’s end. Increasingly, they both saw doomsday as a world-devastating nuclear holocaust. Science predicted that mankind would ultimately destroy himself with his own malevolent invention, detonating megatons of nuclear devices in a superpower showdown that would plunge the Earth into a “nuclear winter,” eradicating all life. Science had finally found its own eschatological ‘sacrament.’
Oddly, this also brought and about-face in religionists. They suddenly seemed to agree with the scientists. They saw the atomic bomb as fulfillment of the Bible’s prophesied “fire and brimstone” at world’s end. A revolutionary reversal in Biblical exegesis saw the religionists proclaim that mankind, not God, would be Apollyon, the destroyer. Man now had the power to single-handedly bring about Armageddon. God could sit on the sidelines, a celestial spectator to the end of the world!
A new catastrophism
In the midst of this atomic age rapture, an iconoclastic scholar resurrected Catastrophism, to the horror of both science and religion. Immanuel Velikovsky preached the catastrophic nature of the universe to an unbelieving audience in both camps. Science reacted violently, damning him at every opportunity. Religion, more tellingly, simply ignored him.
Given religion’s catastrophist roots, one might have expected it to embrace Velikovsky and the new Catastrophism to some degree. Instead (and this is the odd thing), religionists have largely ‘shunned’ the Neocatastrophism Velikovsky preached.
Make no mistake, though. When pressed on the issues and worth of Catastrophism, most religionists tend to become even more shrill and acrimonious in their denunciation of it and its proponents than do scientists. Otherwise, they ignore it as if it did not exist.
A view from catastrophe
Catastrophists will see that the new Catastrophism is a litmus test for religion as well as science. In the last century or so, religion has cast off its catastrophist ‘vestments’ to such a degree that it rejects catastrophists and their theories as readily as does science. Thus, in today’s world, catastrophists find themselves ‘excommunicated’ from both science and religion.
Catastrophists will attest that the symbolism of religious imagery and the simple truths of science are all enriched by Catastrophism. Without it, both institutions are awash in ‘strange doctrine’ and ‘strange science.’ Modern religion no longer comprehends the origins of its traditional and scriptural symbolism, iconography, rites and rituals. Modern science turns a blind eye to revelations of fact that would overturn its sacred orthodoxy.
None the wiser
Yet, it is also clear to some catastrophists that both institutions would profit immensely were they to seriously consider Catastrophism and all it implies for the world we live in. Religion could rediscover the richness of it planetary traditions without threatening its faith and humanitarianism. Science would discover a whole new universe out there without sacrificing its empiricism and objectivity. Imagine what might be accomplished.
Sadly, both science and religion have created their own, modern mythology: science to avoid that which it cannot explain, and religion to deny the “paganism” and ancient mythology from which most of its traditions sprang.
The Mormon catastrophist
Mormons are no exception to this rule. Joseph Smith and the early brethren were catastrophists. They lived during the heyday of 19th century Catastrophism, before the concepts of Uniformity and Gradualism were popularized. One need only read their expressions on creation, Earth’s early history and the last days to realize that they believed that the planetary powers, guided by their creator, were responsible for past catastrophes as well as those predicted in scripture for the future. Yet, it is also clear that the Prophet’s views in all things were not shaped by the times in which he lived, but by his exposure to revealed truth.
Given Joseph Smith’s position on the subject, it is rather strange that most modern Latter-day Saints are uncomfortable with Catastrophism. Perhaps it is because they have not taken the time to adequately school themselves in the beliefs and teachings of their founding prophet. In addition, it may be due to the fact that formal gospel training fails to touch on the subject, except in passing. Catastrophism and its attendant hypotheses are studiously avoided in church teaching manuals, and it is never addressed over the pulpit.
Mormons are Christians
It appears to this author that most Saints have been seduced by the same delusion that has afflicted our Christian cousins. We have abandoned our catastrophist roots because they make us uncomfortable when discussed in the context of religion. It all sounds too pagan, too naturalistic and too material; it seems to lack the spiritual element that religion should espouse. Instead, we have adopted the uniformitarian view of the world that science espouses, simply because it is popular. In addition, it gives our antagonists less ammunition to use against us in our struggle to assert our Christianity. That is to say, if all Christendom is uniformitarian, then we should be too in order to appear equally Christian.
Our loss is … our loss
Yet, so much is lost in our present approach. If our scriptures were written by prophets who experienced great catastrophes and celestial displays, if they related those experiences to the gospel and to their visions of the future by creating a unique lexicon of iconographic symbols and written imagery, if our founding prophet was, indeed, a catastrophist, then denying and ignoring that element in their teachings leaves us with a rather sanitized understanding of their pronouncements, prophetic and otherwise.
The rich imagery and symbolism of the scriptures and the gospel can only be truly fathomed by first obtaining the same mindset as those who wrote them. Relating the prophets’ imagery to the unique symbols left everywhere by the cultures they lived in brings a remarkable depth of understanding to prophetic pronouncements. How can we say we understand the gospel if we ignore this vital element?
Joseph Smith did not ignore it. He embraced it. He dedicated considerable time to understanding the Egyptian culture, religion and symbolism because it was closely related to those same elements employed by the Hebrew prophets. Like Abraham, Joseph, sought to restore the cosmological knowledge of our forefathers. That invaluable knowledge is composed of a discussion of planets, stars and the heavens.
Like the Joseph Smith, the creators of Egyptian documents were obsessed with a combination of gods and heavenly bodies, embellishing and re-illustrating them in countless repetitions and variations. The Pearl of Great Price is loaded with such stuff. What is more, the iconography of the ancient world has adorned every temple constructed in this dispensation. Its imagery may look and sound pagan, but the Prophet dedicated considerable time and effort to its exposition. That must mean that it has significant relevance to the restored gospel. If it were unimportant or unrelated to the gospel, why is it in the scriptures and the temples he left us? Is it not reasonable to assume that if Joseph Smith thought a study of these things important, we should as well?
Ignoring Joseph's approach to religious symbolism leaves us in an untenable position. We utterly fail to understand the significance of these things to our comprehension of the gospel.
Is that what we want?
© Anthony E. Larson, 2004
Showing posts with label atomic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label atomic. Show all posts
Monday, December 1, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Another Modern Myth
Before the advent of the nuclear age, scientists pondered the origins of the Sun’s tremendous expenditure of heat and light. Many ideas were advanced; none were universally accepted. Most shrugged their intellectual shoulders, saying that the source of the Sun’s fire was yet a mystery.
With the advent of the atomic bomb, science felt they had their answer. Physicists and astronomers advanced the idea — and the public accepted it — that the Sun was fired by the same fuel as the weapon that won the war in the Pacific, the atom. The logic was rather compelling, too, when one considered the prodigious amount of energy released in an atomic bomb. Everyone saw the awesome size and power of a nuclear detonation thanks to another, new, post-war invention — television. We were regaled with seemingly endless news reports and documentaries regarding the unthinkable devastation that awaited us if the two superpowers of the Cold War ever had the temerity and foolhardiness to employ those weapons.
Thus, the theory became fact. Nuclear fission, and later fusion, was thought to be responsible for the vast amounts of energy that the Sun radiated. Only nuclear processes, it was reasoned, could release that much energy from matter in order to power the Sun for millions of years.
Then we entered the space age. Ever more sophisticated equipment was employed to probe the workings of the Sun. Unmanned space probes were launched toward the Sun in an ongoing effort to understand it. Ironically, the more they learned, the less the data fit with their nuclear model.
The temperature problem
The first problem was discovered when they took the Sun’s temperature, so to speak.
The nuclear model of the Sun predicted that the atomic fires at its center were the hottest, that the heat and pressure at the Sun’s core were ideal for supporting nuclear fusion and fission. Moving away from the active core, they hypothesized, the temperature would gradually drop until, at the surface, it would be relatively cool, certainly cooler than the center.
What they learned surprised everyone. The sun was much cooler, relatively speaking, at the center than at the surface. Indeed, the hottest spot was above the surface, in the corona. That is, the point of greatest heat and light was not within the Sun or even on the surface. It was located high above the surface in what can be characterized as the Sun’s atmosphere.
How could that be? What could cause a nuclear-fired star like our Sun to have such anomalous heat characteristics? It was like finding that a wood stove was hottest outside rather than inside where the fire burned. The newly acquired data did not fit the model of a nuclear-powered Sun. Something was clearly wrong.
No one really seemed interested in doubting the theory, however. Rather than question the nuclear nature of the Sun, scientists sought for another explanation that might reconcile the data with the nuclear engine theory of the Sun.
Several ad hoc explanations were ginned up to explain the anomalous temperature readings within the context of the nuclear Sun theory, most of them so convoluted that the individual of average intelligence and education was unable to dispute them, much less follow the logic.
Neutrinos, neutrinos everywhere
Then there is the neutrino problem.
Neutrinos are highly energetic subatomic particles emitted by nuclear reactions. They are hard to detect because they have no electrical charge or apparent mass, and they pass easily through matter. They are ubiquitous in space. Physicists theorize that neutrinos are ejected from stars because the stars, like our Sun, are fired by nuclear reactions. We are bombarded by neutrinos from those stars every day of our lives, but they go unnoticed because they pass through us as easily as light passes through a pane of glass. Indeed, most neutrinos are so energetic that they can pass easily through anything on the Earth’s surface — walls, cars, buildings, whatever.
Scientists believed that our star, the Sun, ought to emit a huge number of neutrinos since — according to the current theory of its workings — it generates its power by a nuclear fission reaction. Scientists knew from practical experience with the atomic bomb that neutrinos are the automatic byproducts of such reactions.
An experiment was devised in order to test the theory by counting the most energetic neutrinos — those emitted by the closest star, our Sun. Of course, if you wish to sample only those neutrinos from the Sun, then you must have a way to screen out the constant rain of cosmic rays from space that would interfere with any such detection. Physicists determined that the only way they could “see” neutrinos from our sun was to go deep into an existing mine where the less energetic particles from space would have been slowed or stopped after passing a considerable distance through Earth’s crust, while more energetic neutrinos from our neighboring star would still reach their detection equipment deep within the Earth. Using sophisticated devices, they would be able to detect the most energetic neutrinos of all, those that come from our Sun.
Nuclear physicists expected to find copious numbers of neutrinos in their experiment, thus confirming their nuclear engine theory for the Sun. They were stunned to discover that the opposite was true. Instead of detecting numerous neutrinos, as should have been the case according to their theories, they “saw” almost none. How could this be?
As with the temperature problem they refused to follow the Occam’s Razor principle: The simplest explanation is probably the correct one. They could not bring themselves to question their elegant thermonuclear theories. Once again, scientists conjured up numerous ad hoc theories to explain still more data that contradicted their model of a nuclear Sun, including new categories of neutrinos that came in various “flavors.”
These and other anomalies too esoteric to discuss here point away from the theory of the Sun as a nuclear engine. Instead, they point to the Sun as an electromagnetic engine.
The light goes on
Consider this possibility: We may live in an electric universe, the only other form of energy known to have enough power to light the Sun. The galaxies may be lit, ordered and shaped by electrical energy, the stars within them powered by electricity. The Earth we live on, indeed all the planets and moons in our solar system, may be immersed in, defined and regulated by electromagnetic fields.
Many scholars and maverick scientists have speculated recently that such may be the case. They point out that the Sun may operate like a negatively charge body accumulating additional charge from the environment it moves through, then divesting itself of that energy by discharging like a great cathode in space. (The cathode in your television set does just that to light up the screen.) This accumulated charge is released in a constant discharge, creating light and heat, in a process somewhat analogous to that in a fluorescent light bulb.
It fits the observed data
This would explain the lack of neutrinos from the Sun. They would be incidental to an electric Sun, not primary as in a nuclear Sun. It would also explain the temperature anomaly. The active, energetic area, the corona or photosphere, would be the hottest, with the surface of the Sun and the interior registering progressively cooler relative temperatures. Of course, this is exactly what astrophysicists observed when they took the Sun’s temperature.
Once again, Velikovsky was the first to speculate that in past catastrophic near collisions, the complex but powerful electromagnetic forces brought to bear by planets closing on one another generated colossal interplanetary effects such as interplanetary lightning, disturbed rotation, massive inductive heating and numerous other secondary, electrical phenomena. How could a passing planet slow and stop the Earth’s rotation, then restart it again, if planets are electrically neutral? Forces other than gravity must have been at work. (Remember that Mormon wrote in Helaman that the Earth stops and even reverses rotation for a short time.) These assertions suggest that the true nature of the universe, and the Sun specifically, is electrical.
Learning from our own experience
It is ironic that a half-century of nuclear experimentation has failed to yield the abundance of power for the use of mankind that science originally promised. Except as a devastating weapon of war, the nuclear genie has little magic. Nuclear power generation is a dismal failure due to its lethality, as we learned at Chernobyl. Nuclear fission provides only a miniscule about of energy worldwide for that very reason. Nuclear fusion, the counterpart of fission, that once seemed to hold such promise as an abundant energy source, is still a costly, ephemeral, theoretical dream.
Could it be that this eventuality has a lesson for us in our view of the Sun’s fires?
On the other hand, ever since Nikola Tesla invented the polyphase, alternating current electrical system we use today, the world has been powered and lit by electricity. Together with the internal combustion engine, electricity has revolutionized our world. It has become so much a part of our existence that it is hard to imagine life without electricity to do our bidding. Yet, we still understand little of its nature or its workings. Like our ancestors who learned to use fire without understanding its nature, we have partially harnessed the energy of the cosmos with almost no understanding of it. Like light and gravity, electricity remains largely a mystery to us.
Is it merely a coincidence that we have employed electrical power so readily and effectively while nuclear power has faltered? Might it be that this is an indication of the true relative importance of the two in the universe?
The implications in such an idea are both staggering and stimulating. If true, it may explain gravity as an electromagnetic effect rather than strictly one of mass. The study of superconductors promises remarkable discoveries in the near future about the nature of electricity and the relationship between gravity, magnetism and electrical currents.
It suggests that humans, living in an extremely low frequency (ELF) electrical environment such as that on the Earth, are primarily electrical creatures rather than chemical, as modern medicine teaches. Dr. Robert Becker tried to open our eyes to this possibility years ago in his book, The Body Electric.
Perhaps most interesting of all, some form of electromagnetic levitation could explain how the ancients all around the world succeeded in moving massive stones over great distances to construct their ancient sacred temples and monuments — a technology that we will likely employ ourselves one day when we unlock the secrets to our electrical universe.
© Anthony E. Larson, 1999
With the advent of the atomic bomb, science felt they had their answer. Physicists and astronomers advanced the idea — and the public accepted it — that the Sun was fired by the same fuel as the weapon that won the war in the Pacific, the atom. The logic was rather compelling, too, when one considered the prodigious amount of energy released in an atomic bomb. Everyone saw the awesome size and power of a nuclear detonation thanks to another, new, post-war invention — television. We were regaled with seemingly endless news reports and documentaries regarding the unthinkable devastation that awaited us if the two superpowers of the Cold War ever had the temerity and foolhardiness to employ those weapons.
Thus, the theory became fact. Nuclear fission, and later fusion, was thought to be responsible for the vast amounts of energy that the Sun radiated. Only nuclear processes, it was reasoned, could release that much energy from matter in order to power the Sun for millions of years.
Then we entered the space age. Ever more sophisticated equipment was employed to probe the workings of the Sun. Unmanned space probes were launched toward the Sun in an ongoing effort to understand it. Ironically, the more they learned, the less the data fit with their nuclear model.
The temperature problem
The first problem was discovered when they took the Sun’s temperature, so to speak.
The nuclear model of the Sun predicted that the atomic fires at its center were the hottest, that the heat and pressure at the Sun’s core were ideal for supporting nuclear fusion and fission. Moving away from the active core, they hypothesized, the temperature would gradually drop until, at the surface, it would be relatively cool, certainly cooler than the center.
What they learned surprised everyone. The sun was much cooler, relatively speaking, at the center than at the surface. Indeed, the hottest spot was above the surface, in the corona. That is, the point of greatest heat and light was not within the Sun or even on the surface. It was located high above the surface in what can be characterized as the Sun’s atmosphere.
How could that be? What could cause a nuclear-fired star like our Sun to have such anomalous heat characteristics? It was like finding that a wood stove was hottest outside rather than inside where the fire burned. The newly acquired data did not fit the model of a nuclear-powered Sun. Something was clearly wrong.
No one really seemed interested in doubting the theory, however. Rather than question the nuclear nature of the Sun, scientists sought for another explanation that might reconcile the data with the nuclear engine theory of the Sun.
Several ad hoc explanations were ginned up to explain the anomalous temperature readings within the context of the nuclear Sun theory, most of them so convoluted that the individual of average intelligence and education was unable to dispute them, much less follow the logic.
Neutrinos, neutrinos everywhere
Then there is the neutrino problem.
Neutrinos are highly energetic subatomic particles emitted by nuclear reactions. They are hard to detect because they have no electrical charge or apparent mass, and they pass easily through matter. They are ubiquitous in space. Physicists theorize that neutrinos are ejected from stars because the stars, like our Sun, are fired by nuclear reactions. We are bombarded by neutrinos from those stars every day of our lives, but they go unnoticed because they pass through us as easily as light passes through a pane of glass. Indeed, most neutrinos are so energetic that they can pass easily through anything on the Earth’s surface — walls, cars, buildings, whatever.
Scientists believed that our star, the Sun, ought to emit a huge number of neutrinos since — according to the current theory of its workings — it generates its power by a nuclear fission reaction. Scientists knew from practical experience with the atomic bomb that neutrinos are the automatic byproducts of such reactions.
An experiment was devised in order to test the theory by counting the most energetic neutrinos — those emitted by the closest star, our Sun. Of course, if you wish to sample only those neutrinos from the Sun, then you must have a way to screen out the constant rain of cosmic rays from space that would interfere with any such detection. Physicists determined that the only way they could “see” neutrinos from our sun was to go deep into an existing mine where the less energetic particles from space would have been slowed or stopped after passing a considerable distance through Earth’s crust, while more energetic neutrinos from our neighboring star would still reach their detection equipment deep within the Earth. Using sophisticated devices, they would be able to detect the most energetic neutrinos of all, those that come from our Sun.
Nuclear physicists expected to find copious numbers of neutrinos in their experiment, thus confirming their nuclear engine theory for the Sun. They were stunned to discover that the opposite was true. Instead of detecting numerous neutrinos, as should have been the case according to their theories, they “saw” almost none. How could this be?
As with the temperature problem they refused to follow the Occam’s Razor principle: The simplest explanation is probably the correct one. They could not bring themselves to question their elegant thermonuclear theories. Once again, scientists conjured up numerous ad hoc theories to explain still more data that contradicted their model of a nuclear Sun, including new categories of neutrinos that came in various “flavors.”
These and other anomalies too esoteric to discuss here point away from the theory of the Sun as a nuclear engine. Instead, they point to the Sun as an electromagnetic engine.
The light goes on
Consider this possibility: We may live in an electric universe, the only other form of energy known to have enough power to light the Sun. The galaxies may be lit, ordered and shaped by electrical energy, the stars within them powered by electricity. The Earth we live on, indeed all the planets and moons in our solar system, may be immersed in, defined and regulated by electromagnetic fields.
Many scholars and maverick scientists have speculated recently that such may be the case. They point out that the Sun may operate like a negatively charge body accumulating additional charge from the environment it moves through, then divesting itself of that energy by discharging like a great cathode in space. (The cathode in your television set does just that to light up the screen.) This accumulated charge is released in a constant discharge, creating light and heat, in a process somewhat analogous to that in a fluorescent light bulb.
It fits the observed data
This would explain the lack of neutrinos from the Sun. They would be incidental to an electric Sun, not primary as in a nuclear Sun. It would also explain the temperature anomaly. The active, energetic area, the corona or photosphere, would be the hottest, with the surface of the Sun and the interior registering progressively cooler relative temperatures. Of course, this is exactly what astrophysicists observed when they took the Sun’s temperature.
Once again, Velikovsky was the first to speculate that in past catastrophic near collisions, the complex but powerful electromagnetic forces brought to bear by planets closing on one another generated colossal interplanetary effects such as interplanetary lightning, disturbed rotation, massive inductive heating and numerous other secondary, electrical phenomena. How could a passing planet slow and stop the Earth’s rotation, then restart it again, if planets are electrically neutral? Forces other than gravity must have been at work. (Remember that Mormon wrote in Helaman that the Earth stops and even reverses rotation for a short time.) These assertions suggest that the true nature of the universe, and the Sun specifically, is electrical.
Learning from our own experience
It is ironic that a half-century of nuclear experimentation has failed to yield the abundance of power for the use of mankind that science originally promised. Except as a devastating weapon of war, the nuclear genie has little magic. Nuclear power generation is a dismal failure due to its lethality, as we learned at Chernobyl. Nuclear fission provides only a miniscule about of energy worldwide for that very reason. Nuclear fusion, the counterpart of fission, that once seemed to hold such promise as an abundant energy source, is still a costly, ephemeral, theoretical dream.
Could it be that this eventuality has a lesson for us in our view of the Sun’s fires?
On the other hand, ever since Nikola Tesla invented the polyphase, alternating current electrical system we use today, the world has been powered and lit by electricity. Together with the internal combustion engine, electricity has revolutionized our world. It has become so much a part of our existence that it is hard to imagine life without electricity to do our bidding. Yet, we still understand little of its nature or its workings. Like our ancestors who learned to use fire without understanding its nature, we have partially harnessed the energy of the cosmos with almost no understanding of it. Like light and gravity, electricity remains largely a mystery to us.
Is it merely a coincidence that we have employed electrical power so readily and effectively while nuclear power has faltered? Might it be that this is an indication of the true relative importance of the two in the universe?
The implications in such an idea are both staggering and stimulating. If true, it may explain gravity as an electromagnetic effect rather than strictly one of mass. The study of superconductors promises remarkable discoveries in the near future about the nature of electricity and the relationship between gravity, magnetism and electrical currents.
It suggests that humans, living in an extremely low frequency (ELF) electrical environment such as that on the Earth, are primarily electrical creatures rather than chemical, as modern medicine teaches. Dr. Robert Becker tried to open our eyes to this possibility years ago in his book, The Body Electric.
Perhaps most interesting of all, some form of electromagnetic levitation could explain how the ancients all around the world succeeded in moving massive stones over great distances to construct their ancient sacred temples and monuments — a technology that we will likely employ ourselves one day when we unlock the secrets to our electrical universe.
© Anthony E. Larson, 1999
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