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Book ReviewThis novel is a true story written in the third person to protect the identity of the author who worked in the Australian prison system for many years. The author is a university graduate whose interest in Aboriginal culture led her to work in rehabilitation and training where a disproportionate number of prisoners are Aboriginal. I agreed to review this book after she had sought help from A.I.P.R. Inc in March this year to end psychic assault from an Aboriginal Kadaicha man she had met through her work. The characters in the novel
which is set in contemporary Kadaicha Man is big trouble which is partly why he is in prison for drunken violent offences. He is also selfish, very controlling and a lies to create his world. The other Aboriginal prisoners were always respectful and fearful of him because of his power, his black magic and his sorcery. “He is one of the most
powerful Kadaicha you know. Those And “he has such powers that he can even listen to us talking now”. He is an Aboriginal man of high degree. This is how A.P. Elkin describes such men in his study published in 1945. So Kane Carpenter thus sets about the seduction of Macy using love magic. Macy is of course susceptible to psychic influences and “intrigued by all things unknown”; she recalls growing up with Koori children and has a love of Aboriginal culture. She desires to understand the supernatural and some psycho-spiritual experiences from her early years. It is her weakness and she comes under Kadaicha Man’s influence regardless of the consequences. The term “Sing” refers to sorcery and the casting of Psychic spells to bring a woman under his control, to get her to come to him. In Aboriginal society a woman is free to express her sexuality, her sexual desires are all powerful, it is the woman that initiates sexual encounters. Being a Kadaicha, Kane Carpenter is also a very talented painter of Aboriginal art (as seen on the cover of Sing Me). He gives two of his paintings to Macy he has smeared his sweat all across each work influencing her through his pheromones. (a sexual attractor). Although scientific research suggests this is doubtful. Rather it may be that he used the sweat on the painting to access her and watch her through the painting. Kadachia’s can create magic through their art. He manages to get some of Macy’s hair with the help of other prisoners, this is used to help mobilise the emotions – think here of Raymond Moody’s work in psychomanteum experiments. Her DNA is required to Dance on her heart and to Claim her. Macy finds him intruding into her thoughts, endlessly making her feel drowsy and sleepy during the day and keeping her alert at night in a body asleep/mind awake state all the while he is locked up in prison. William Braudes work comes to mind, remote influencing of mood at a distance. Other Aboriginal prisoners are enlisted in helping him “Sing” Macy upon his instruction, this is a group dance using powerful emotions and projecting them onto Macy causing the opening of her heart charka resulting in a swoon and a Divine supernatural dance. To understand this psychic experience we must refer to transpersonal psychology. The description of Psychic lovemaking lacks any description in psychology to the best of my knowledge but very little is written by psychologist on the subject of love. Being ‘Sung’ is an Ancient art form of love magic. In episodes of psychic assault resulting from her anger at him she would experience sickness like she had just been poisoned. Spiralling into violent illness, the blood and oxygen draining out of her she vomits, everything turns black; it was as if she had died. Even her dog vomited. When she came around all she
could hear was the acute sound of outback “When she saw herself in the mirror she had three large welts and a huge lump on the left side of her forehead, with scratches on top of the welts, one above her eyebrow and a third across the bridge of her nose.” The author said “This was a Claiming right where my face was scared. The Claiming right gave Kane the ownership of me through my mind. With it he could see through my eyes and deter and frighten other men away as well as do stronger magic on me.” Recall here Larrisa
Vilenskya’s work on Psychic assault done in the old As the story develops Macy quits
her job at the prison and Kane Carpenter is eventually released. Macy confronts
Kane upon his release and surrenders to him with no will left in her and the
scene moves to the Northern Suburbs of Brisbane where the relationship hits
reality, one of Kadaicha Man’s wives jealousy intrudes and the opposing
cultural systems collide. It isn’t going to work. Macy flees to As she drove further toward the coast she becomes itchy. “It was as if her skin started to crawl”. The feeling would come and go. She noticed that the further away she got from him the itchier she became. He had put a spell on her to drive her crazy so that she would come back to him. Cold showers and swimming in the cold ocean provided relief from the itching, she had it checked out and got tested for everything. There was no explanation for the condition. She is pulled back to the Pubs
in He tells her Kane has gone up
North to Kadaicha man Kane was thousands of kilometres away but very able to assault her with retribution through the Aboriginal Spirit World. Macy asks Kane “Who taught you to do magic”. He replies “my grandfather taught me, I have seen my grandfather put spells on crocodiles so that he could walk past them, they wouldn’t move no matter how many of them were there”. Grandfather was also Kadaicha. This affair began in 2003 and the author just wanted it to end being exhausted by it all. Macy asks an Aboriginal friend she met at the airport “Can the spell be broken? Can I ever get him out of my head and my heart?” The reply comes “those Kadaicha men from up north have more power than any other men in the world. There is no stronger witchcraft than theirs it is the most ancient of all. If a Kadaicha man is in love with a woman he can just take her, no one can stop him, not even her”. She visits another Kadaicha man seeking a cure but is told, “Kane is a Feather Foot his power and love for you cannot be removed, and you must go to him”. And of course she does, in the novel at least. Manella, the mutual acquaintance also says “an honest and righteous man of power can break the spell if you truly desire it”. In search of such a man the author contacted me asking if A.I.P.R. Inc had anyone who could “remove the spells I still live with everyday” can anyone at A.I.P.R. Inc assist my plight”. Fortunately the answer is hopefully. In 1996 Simon, another A.I.P.R. member and I spent four days clearing an Aboriginal haunting/poltergeist on a remote property about 1000 km west of Sydney (see AJ Para December 2002 Vol. 2 No. 2 page 151). We were completely successful. I telephoned Simon in Simon then spoke to the author,
who lives in yet another part of A few days later Simon phoned to say that Kadaicha man was “off sulking somewhere in the gulf country” and was now experiencing directly all the pain he projected onto the author. Surrounded by a psychic bubble that reflects back directly to himself. This of course is only Simon’s belief and upon further investigation Jeda Lee still faces love and retribution through the Aboriginal Spirit World by Kane. This is a very interesting case and also very rare description of Aboriginal psycho-spirituality. Simon offered the opinion that Tibetan Buddhist psychic skill was at the same level, both systems developed in isolation over a very long time frame. Aboriginal Kadaicha men are not likely to make such knowledge public, not yet anyway. About half of all Tibetan Buddhist knowledge is translated into English. When Michael Thalbourne, Lance Storm and I were starting to publish the AJ Para, Michael said that he loved the colours of the Aboriginal flag, Lance and I both agreed and you see a re-arranged example as our cover. I do hope we receive more articles on Aboriginal parapsychology. Jeda Lee is to be commended for her courage to write, “Sing Me” and we wish her well with her healing and writing the screen play for ‘Sing Me’. Can we please have some more? Robb
Tilley Author's Note.
Some may say that this story is a lie. Others may say it is a mere exaggeration of an illusion and even a weakness of character. Still others may acknowledge that this tale is far too outrageous to be anything but the truth. Hopefully though, most will agree that this novel is a work of fiction and yet see within it a truth that is pure and honest and written from the heart. Of course what ever the reader decides in the end matters not though. What really matters to this author is whether those who read this novel can now consider that this tale is possible. Only time will tell. Whatever conclusions you the reader may come to know this: What occurs in reality does not always appear to be the only avenue that the experience of life can offer us. Other forces dwell nearby that many of us never see or even will know about in our lifetime. There are those rare few individuals in this reality driven world though, who are invited and indeed stolen into other realms that are outside normality, as we know it. This is a story of such an experience. The spirit world is one such realm and the magical theme of this story. The spirit world of this story belongs to the most ancient of all cultures, that of the Australian Aboriginal people. In essence this story is a commanding tale of how an unsuspecting white woman was stolen (Sung) with love magic by an Aboriginal Kadaicha man (witchdoctor). In its totality this story is a powerful reminder that the beauty of the Indigenous Australian customs and mores involving eternal love elevates itself beyond this world. A world that is fast becoming short-changed with its ability to love one another unconditionally. The world of magic, both black and white, is one such realm that nobody can truly describe unless they are either the instigator or the recipient. The same applies to the magnetic powers of love of course. It is only those that have truly experienced love who can come close to describing it. No one though can truly describe what forces can coerce a person to love another unconditionally for life that is not of their blood. There simply aren’t enough words. For most of us finding such a love is a blessing. For many of us the search for love can be a long quest that may only fleetingly appear or deliver itself in its entirety. When the two
powers of Love and Magic are brought together however, the effects are not only
astonishing they are also eternal. ‘Sing me’ is a story of a power that can bind a woman’s heart and soul to a man for life, through forces and spells of love unfathomable to her as one of the ignorant and even the unwilling. This is a journey of how that was accomplished and the effect the magical yet deadly web created for her and that which she ultimately became bound by. ‘Sing me’ is an analysis of whether ‘Macy’s’ will or her courage could have stopped ‘Kane’ claiming her as much as it is an examination of whether she wanted him to stop such an exquisite experience. ‘Sing Me’
of course is also a story about conflicting moral dilemmas as much as it is a
story about opposing cultural and cognitive belief systems. But still it is a
story about love and that overriding power and force that binds one individual
to another for life. To detail a story such as this, one can only hope that the reader will keep his or her heart open and accept what is and always has been possible in an individual’s own personal experience, regardless of who they are, what they do or where they come from. Our destiny’s sometimes take us to the most unexpected places for a reason. That destiny which we readily career toward is not always of our own choosing but one in which we all are forced to experience and learn by never the less. Indeed it is only when one looks deep into the pit of their soul can they not only understand what it is they need to learn but just sometimes they can also find out that miracles can occur when they do. In this case but definitely not only this case, when the hardest questions in life unearth no other answer but the realisation that only in the ultimate form of public self sabotage can one be set free from those that deem to try to condemn can one’s destiny be truly changed. ‘Sing
me’ is just a short glimpse of the character of Macy’s destiny. But within
this glimpse can be found such things as mystery, the magic of the spirit world,
manipulation, heartache, and of course deceit and betrayal, but most of all,
love, and a never-ending desire for a contented heartbeat. CHAPTER ONE
(part sample)
THE JOB
It was just another bloody hot morning at the prison car park when Betty and Macy did their traditional daily greeting before work. “Morning my lil’ honey based chicken wing,” Macy chortled as she closed her car door and locked it. “Morning my lil’ tarragon and capsicum pot roast,” giggled Betty as she continued putting her sun visor on her windscreen. “Now that one tended to turn my stomach Bet,” Macy retorted as she pondered where she could hide from the sun as she waited for her friend. A hot day was predicted with even hotter wind forecast coming from the west. “Bit harsh do you think?” Betty responded with little care. “Christ it’s hot. Why is it always hot?” Macy noted the obvious. Macy was bitter about the heat. She detested it. When it was hot Macy’s body literally swelled. “Why isn’t it just 22 degrees all day, just that temperature, nothing higher or lower? Just once I would like to see that.” Macy babbled on their way to the prison gatehouse, a walk they had done together so many times before. The weather
wasn’t just a neutral topic to start a conversation for those two. It was as
obsessive as any science. The heat was offensive to Macy and sometimes to Betty.
Macy was always trying to illustrate why it would be better if they just moved
south to a cooler climate to conduct their lives. Betty was yet to be convinced.
Betty’s ability to function in forty-two degree Celsius heat was always much
more enthusiastic and successful but she sometimes would confess that it was
hot. Getting her to admit it this morning was not going to work. Betty was in
work mode. As they neared the entrance to the prison, the gentle wafts of aroma from the sewerage treatment plant nearby entered their nostrils. “Ah it doesn’t get much better than this, hey Betty?” Macy dryly commented as she opened the door for her. “Today is going to be all about me,” Betty spat back trying to avert the conversation from Macy’s repetitious pet hates. Macy of
course giggled knowing that she could turn that around before they walked
through the air lock. As she turned to close the entrance door Macy viewed the murder of crows perched on the razor wire. She lingered with the thought that crows were the only free spirits that would come there voluntarily to scavenge. They suited this place in the desert. So did most of the clients who resided there. Macy and Betty had been the best of friends for years. Their life philosophies complemented each other. Physically however, Betty was small and petite and satisfied with herself and Macy was tall and large and of course bitter about it. Macy’s size
was always an issue that they both obsessed about. It was there drone out
subject that required mammoth discussions with never a conclusion in sight. Betty loved meeting Macy’s problems with the worst possible scenarios in order to spice up the conversations for herself as Macy always overdramatised every event in her life. They loved their own humour. It was cynical, twisted and bitter but incredibly healthy. They loved watching it grow and change over the years. No topic was
out of bounds, which satisfied them both. They had a heightened sense of self
and worked on the gift of laughter and rampant stupidity to de stress at every
opportune moment. They could turn on a dime in behaviour in a second at work and
at home. Their enjoyment of each other’s company was why Macy actually came to
work. For Macy, working in a prison was never dull but definitely draining. The calibre of determination required for her to maintain an accurate sense of reality was always in question. Her daily duties were enormous. Mixed into the duties’ cocktail was a never-ending pursuit to find the truth with prisoner requests, demands and scams. Macy found it tiring as well as unhealthy. Honesty was a prized virtue behind the razor wire. It was a virtue that was rarely found. There were also quite a few prisoners with formal complaints in on her at any one time. The fact that they complained, meant more that they didn’t get what they wanted rather than Macy doing the wrong thing. The process to address the wrong was arduous and the prisoners were never disciplined for their untrue and vexatious statements. It would always amaze Macy and wear her down. She dreamt of an easier life, as this one was too hard. Apart from the wonderful friends she had as colleagues, Macy didn’t want to be there anymore.
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