Seeing is believing. Apparently. The Cyberiter recalls a visit he took
to Uri Geller’s mansion and relates his experience. He knows what he
saw.
've always taken pride in having an open mind ...
So, when the invitation came to visit Uri Geller at his estate in the
English countryside back in the summer of 1987, I couldn't pass the
opportunity to personally experience the phenomenon he represents
and/or channels.
Uri Geller has made a career out of being controversial. His claims of
possessing paranormal talents have not necessarily polarized opinions
as much as the outrageous outlets by which he seemingly prefers to
display them. For example, Geller has, at one time or another, alleged
to have:
- bent spoons and keys merely by concentrating on them,
- made a soccer ball move just before a Scottish penalty kick was taken
during an international match against England, causing the shot to be
missed and victory assured for the English,
- stopped the hands of time on Big Ben,
- advised families that messages from the dead would appear to them in symbolic acts,
- sent disorienting mental signals to KGB agents at the request of the CIA, and
- healed people's afflictions merely by being close to them.
Uri Geller was an Israeli paratrooper who fought in the Six-Day War and
dabbled in modeling and a small-time magician's career before bursting
onto the global oddity scene by apparently having access to a part of
his brain that others didn't. He seemingly had the powers to move
objects and sense thoughts and do them well enough that major media
and, yes, even major governments took notice. Results may have been
mixed --- the CIA, interestingly, doesn't comment either way about
their contact with Geller --- but they all served to perpetuate his
fame (or notoriety, according to the skeptics).
When we approached his mansion, there was no doubting that his
exhibitions, books, television appearances and hobnobbing with
politicos and celebrities had allowed him to amass considerable wealth.
Geller met us in the foyer, immediately conveying the impression that
he may be a shameless self-promoter in public, but at home, he was a
gracious host. This was a social call, so he was casually dressed,
soft-spoken and totally unpretentious. I couldn't say that for the
furniture in his drawing room, however, as the matching sofa, chairs
and coffee table were composed of huge glass-shards held together by
metal spines. They were more artwork than furniture, and I was quite
glad we settled in the kitchen instead.
Inevitably, our conversation broached the topic of Geller's talents. He
asked if I wanted to see them for myself and, after receiving the
obvious response, he pulled a spoon from the utensil drawer and gave it
to me to inspect. I can attest that it was a normal, everyday spoon; I
tried to flex it and confirmed that its malleability was what one would
expect from a common spoon.
Geller took it, kept it in clear view, and began to rub the stem in
short, quick strokes from his index finger. Before my eyes, the spoon's
business end began a perpendicular rise, as if awakening from a nap.
When it had formed a 90-degree angle, Geller stopped rubbing and handed
me the spoon again. I felt the bent segment of the stem for signs of
heat, but there was none. I checked to see if the tensile strength had
been diminished, but it had not.
He really did it.
Geller then asked me to pull any spoon from the drawer and he'd do it
again. I noticed that they were made of sterling silver --- ie- a
normal metal --- and wondered how many he'd buy during the course of a
year. Meanwhile, he repeated the feat. The only factor I noticed that
could have possibly come into play was that Geller made sure he was
standing in the same place both times. There was a metal radiator very
close to him, but I have no idea if that played any role in the result.
He then gave me a small notebook and pen and asked me to draw something
simple. He stood away and there was no chance he could see what I did.
As this was summer, I opted for something totally opposite from the
season and sketched a Christmas tree with a star on top. I then closed
the notebook and told him I was finished.
Geller reached for a totally separate piece of paper and pen. He sat at
the table, thought for a moment and began to draw. He briefly stared at
me and then returned to his task. It only took another minute for him
to announce he was done. He put down his pen and held up his drawing.
It was a Christmas tree, with a star on top.
I was impressed. I almost wished I had something he could heal.
I could not resist asking one off-the-wall question. I knew a prominent
shipbuilding family in Spain who had access to the records of many
galleons which disappeared on return voyages from the New World. Many
of them were laden with gold. Had Geller ever been asked to 'divine'
for precious metals underwater?
He didn't bat an eye. "No," he replied, "But I don't know why I couldn't."
He pulled a book from a nearby shelf and opened it to a section of
photographs in the middle. The topic was Uri Geller. The photos were
allegedly taken with a sensitivity that exceeded the spectrum of light.
There seemed to be a 'cloud' between Geller's head and a small object
of his concentration, such as a ball. The inference was that his mental
projection was being physically 'captured' on film, joining his mind
with the matter on which he was focused.
I ultimately did report to the Spanish magnates what I had seen and
what I suggested. They were more than interested. One of their scions
promised to get back to me, and he did, but somewhere during the course
of our days, the momentum to pursue such a project faded.
I did pay closer attention to Uri Geller in the next few years. The two
displays I witnessed were clearly his top talents; I read accounts of
similar feats from others who had met him. However, Geller wasn't as
successful when he attempted to expand his range. For instance, he
bought a soccer team, Exeter, and said he'd keep his mind off the
pitch. I guess he did, as they were relegated to a lower division under
his chairmanship.
Allegedly, Geller did later claim to avail his services to oil and gold
companies. He said he got results, but that nobody wanted to disclose
he was the secret to their success. He's since written a number of
books --- some of the holistic tomes are actually quite logical and
devoid of anything paranormal --- and continues to enjoy the company of
celebrities.
I have no idea about his talents beyond what I saw. I am convinced that
what I witnessed was authentic. My lingering thought is what Geller's
displays to me could portend for the human condition. It's a fact that
90% of our cerebrum's utility is yet to be understood. Did all of us
really have the powers of telekinesis and telepathy?
Those are deep thoughts, and I'm certainly open to further suggestions.
In the meantime, if I ever come across shipping records which list a
cargo of golden spoons lost at sea, I know who I'm going to call.
