I've had a few strange synchronicities lately--nothing by themselves, but put together, they make me wonder...
The first was a psychic reading, at a psychic fair, in which I was told that I am preventing my own success because of fear of reprisals, such as I experienced in past lives when I spoke out publicly. The second is a film about what happened to the reporter who broke the Iran Contra scandal, which was played for me by a client; and the third is seeing two people, one being a career military officer, die a slow death in old age. The thing is, you're going to go one way or another. I don't think that's a particular good way to go (and I don't know that just gently passing in your sleep is a boon given to very many people).
And then I had that pesky thought, which I admitted here in this blog, that an aspiring musician has to play a lot of bars before he is invited to play at Carnegie Hall.
Okay, maybe I'm not trying hard enough. But I see little use in being on radio shows where the host doesn't "get" me at all, or where the total audience could be counted on two hands. That's what my own BlogTalk show was like--and I was just looking at another venue, where they list the audience. I don't know whether that meant the total who had ever listened, or the total that was listening in real time, but just about every show tallied "one listeners."
So that's like playing a bar that has one old guy nursing his drink, way in the back. It might be okay for practice, but I've already had a lot of practice, back when I was promoting my documentary. I've been on something like 20 shows (including that of Shirley Maclaine, my first one). Enough to know that I'm good at it, which has to be a carryover from my life as Mathew, because there's nothing in this life which would acount for it.
So I've got one interview tentatively lined up for the middle of next year, with a fairly prominent host. Out of dozens of shows, I can find one or two I think I'd be compatible with, which are large enough to be worth doing. So I think I'll move forward. Should I ever come to the public's attention, I expect to be both ridiculed and marginalized. But it's crucial that this project live after I'm gone. If I don't achieve some notoriety, I think it will just disappear. All that work for nothing. So since nobody is stepping forward to say, "I have seen your website, your documentary and your blog, and I've read your books, and I want to help you promote your work"--in short since the magical solution isn't happening--I think that I have to become proactive. "Proactive" doesn't mean employing hype. I still refuse to resort to hype.
The thing is, I think I'm ready, now. That last little piece of evidence I shared, yesterday, is far more significant than I first thought. Mathew Franklin Whittier, a critic for the prestigious New York "Tribune," was praising the poetry of Francis Quarles a mere three weeks or so before "The Raven" was published in "American Review" under the pseudonym, "---- Quarles." Poe, almost simultaneously, published it in the newspaper that he worked as a critic for, the "Evening Mirror." You know how you get a piece published in your own newspaper--you simply prevail on someone. Perhaps someone owes you a favor; or perhaps the $50 (now, $1,600) that Poe borrowed--never intending to pay it back--from Mathew's editor, Horace Greeley, went for bribes. We don't know how Poe worked.
But Poe, being a secular horror story writer and a manifestly poor poet, was a total mismatch for Francis Quarles. Mathew, on the other hand, was a perfect fit.
So now, logically, if you want to retain your belief that Poe wrote "The Raven," you have to believe that he read Mathew's review, read the poem by Quarles that Mathew was praising, and was so inspired that when "American Review" insisted on a pseudonym, he chose "---- Quarles."
It's plausible, by itself--but it's convoluted. Occam's Razor, in this case, says that the simplest explanation is that Mathew Franklin Whittier submitted that poem to "American Review" under the name of the poet he so deeply admired--he and Quarles both being deeply religious men. And that Poe, who was not religious and had no reason to admire Quarles enough to use his name as a pseudonym, having obtained a copy of "The Raven" from Mathew privately, arranged to publish it just afterwards under his own name, in his own paper. Mathew couldn't fight it because he was doing secret undercover work for the cause of abolition, and dared not go public--while his editor, Horace Greeley, refused to risk being sued without Mathew identifying himself, and without stronger evidence of the theft. So Mathew was forced to publish veiled or coded protests, some of which I was able to uncover.*
In other words, my theory is the logical one; and that's not even adding in to the mix my other evidence. But to return to the original topic, now I'm ready. A year ago, or even six months ago, I didn't have this additional information. Two years ago, I didn't have proof that Mathew was a child prodigy. Three years ago, I didn't have proof that Abby was a child prodigy; nor did I have works, of hers, which are very plausibly precusors to "A Christmas Carol."
Now, the trick of radio interviews, is to have all of this organized and freshly rehearsed in your mind, so that you can draw upon it at a moment's notice. Because even if you really know the information, you can't be frantically trying to look it up while you are under fire in an interview, or it will seem to the audience that you really don't know. You've got to have the facts, dates, quips and comebacks right at the tip of your tongue.
That's one benefit of these daily blogs. In speaking, as it were, to all six or seven of you, I have inadvertently prepared myself so that I have all of these issues thought-out. And I've been rehearsing my facts, along with their web of interconnected meanings, such that I can now draw upon any part of the whole at a moment's notice.
So I am ready to present it to anyone.
The other odd thing that happened, on the job yesterday, is that the client put on some kind of new-age music channel on the smart TV, which flashes a loop of philosophical quotes. About half of them have to do with believing in yourself, self-confidence, and success in life. It was kind of like a whole day of affirmations, thrust upon me unwillingly! But one begins to wonder whether the universe is speaking to you. That's how I started my spiritual journey, back in 1973--looking for signs that the universe was communicating with me, via synchronicities.
So I am sort of back to my roots, here.
I'm going to make the adjustment, do the experiment, and see what happens. My goal is simply to become well-enough known, and sell enough e-books (or books, if I print them), that this project is preserved beyond my death, until an era arrives in which it can be recognized for what it is by the larger population.
Stephen Sakellarios, M.S.
*It occurred to me, for the first time as I proofread this, that Poe could have stolen "The Raven" to tempt Mathew to blow his cover. Many of these intrigues which adversely affected Mathew's career, turn out to have been political at their root, i.e., conservatives trying to force him off papers, etc., because of his abolition and pro-peace work. Poe, a Southerner from Virginia, may have had intelligence regarding Mathew's activities, and thought to force him into the open by stealing his poem. Had Mathew sued, he would have been rendered useless as a abolitionist agent, being now before the public eye. It's just a thought, but it's an interesting one.
Music opening this page: "Battle We Have Won," by Eric Johnson,
from the album, "Venus Isle"