by Jon Rappoport
November 14, 2018
(To join our email list, click
John Q Jones had a nice job, a nice family, a nice house, and a
nice yard. Everything was nice.
Then one day, he was walking down the street near his office and
a soft explosion went off in his head.
He looked around and saw a young woman sitting in a parked car.
She was reading a newspaper. And he realized he was reading her
She was thinking about a vacation, a trip to Alaska, a boat
ride, a book, a boyfriend. He was reading her thoughts and the
sensation of doing it was exquisite, quite lucid, quite simple.
He was thrilled beyond measure. For a moment, he thought he
would take off and fly.
A few hours later, he left work and went to see his
I have a problem, he said. Today, I read a persons mind. And it
Hmm, the doctor said, I have a diagnosis for that. Paranoid
schizophrenia. Possibly Bipolar.
Good, Jones said. I need a diagnosis right away, and drugs.
Im the man with the drugs, the psychiatrist said. Lets start you
off with a sedative for sleeping and a bit of Haldol for your
Sounds good, Jones said, but what if it doesnt work? What if
tomorrow, out of the blue, I read someone elses mind?
Then come back and see me, the psychiatrist said, and Ill up the
dosage. Dont worry.
The feeling of wonderful will go away? Jones asked.
Do you want it to? the psychiatrist said.
You bet I do. Its the hook. I could yearn after it, and who
knows what I might do then?
Pleasure is a tough one, the psychiatrist said. We pursue it,
sometimes to our own detriment. I favor neutrality in all
So did I, Jones said, until today. Now I have awhat would you
call ita desire. And its scaring me.
Desire is the beginning of all suffering, the psychiatrist said.
I read that somewhere.
The worst part, Jones said, is that Im becoming aware of a
different space and time.
Dangerous, the psychiatrist agreed. Im a member of a committee
formed to look into other spaces and times. Were hoping to draft
legislation that outlaws them.
I hope you succeed, Jones said. Suppose I couldnt come back to
my nice house and my nice life without feeling odd? That would be
terrible. Im a round peg in a round hole and I want to stay that
way. You know, we go to church every Sunday. The Church of
Statistical Average. The congregation is growing. Its perfect for
us. We love it.
I understand, the psychiatrist said.
All this time, he had been reading Jones mind, and Jones had