The Mothman Prophecies and the Role of the Angelic
By Julie Grinnell 'The Whisperer'
A Myth, The gods, The Giants
The Mothman Prophecies - Page 66
A curse is a terrible thing, but it can only have an effect if there is room for it to do so. Most curses are spilled as a result of fear, frustration, anger, and suffering, and most of the latter originate through the pain of injustice.
I was ten years old when I read the book The Mothman Prophecies which described the collapse of the Silver Bridge at Point Pleasant in the USA. I am forty now, and have just watched the film of the same name. As I had settled down in front of the TV, questions came to mind, “How did a ten year old girl get hold of such a book?” and, “Why would this girl, who was brought up in one of the quietest villages in the UK, be interested in such a thing?”
Background
The Mothman Prophesies is a film based on a factual book written by American UFO researcher and journalist John Keel who spent some time doing freelance research into a UFO flap in West Virginia in 1965-66. At this time, reports of tall, dark-winged entities had been seen. With glowing red eyes and smelling of sulphur, they terrorised people and were dubbed the ‘Mothmen’ by some witnesses. When John Keel began investigating the UFO sightings he found himself the focus of unexplainable phenomenon. Black Cadillacs and Men In Black began following him, impersonating him and telephoning him. Contactees either encountered the intelligence as meetings with humanoids or began talking as mouthpieces for the phenomenon, almost like mediums. One such entity, by the name of Ingrid Cold, used to telephone John Keel and give him otherwise unknown information about himself, or give prophesies. John Keel thus re-evaluated the whole UFO phenomenon, not in terms of conventional extraterrestrials, but as an inter-dimensional intelligence that had manipulated mankind for millennia. He later wrote a book called Operation Trojan Horse, which told of his findings and acts as a foundation for both the film and the book. Some of the prophecies given to contactees that John Keel liaised with in 1966 West Virginia proved to be false, but many more were true – typical of the level of trickery, falsehood and deception inherent in the UFO phenomenon.
A Psychological Goodness
To offer a review of a film is not my intention here, but rather to explain who the Mothmen are. The story of the Mothman was told through the characters, who were portrayed as normal people, just like you and me. There were also many profound statements made throughout. For instance, when the professor asks John Keel (Richard Gere) why the Mothmen don’t explain themselves, he responds “Have you ever tried to explain yourself to a cockroach?”
Slightly further into the film, John is overcome with an anticipated telephone call from his late wife - as prophesied via a telephone call from a Mothman. The caller, a police officer from Point Pleasant, is clear and direct when she says, “John, people die, disasters happen. There is nothing you can do to alter this fact ...you can be alone and miss your wife or you can be with people and miss your wife”. The quotes taken are not exact, but represent the clarity of the psychological emphasis of the film - an aspect of which is quite low key yet nonetheless an important factor. Perhaps the director realised that if too much was weighed towards the psychological or spiritual, then the one would detract from the other, but I have to say there is a beautiful balance of both throughout, giving a true representation of a tense, but realistic situation, rather than an all horrific and jumpy story line.
Who Are You?
Do we know who we are, least of all what a Mothman is? Of course, because of its wings and obvious abilities to fly, most perceive it to be an angel, the definition of which is a ‘messenger of God’. Just because the messenger brings bad news is no reason to shoot it. Needless to say then, the Mothmen may not be inherently evil, but the circumstances that take place, the prophecies, are as a result of an evil act that may not have been in the recent past but rather centuries ago. An analogy would be a little like having large amounts of disposable funds and misusing them for the purchase of weapons of mass destruction; the money itself is not evil, but in this case it has been used with evil intent. Because the Mothmen turn up prior to a disaster, in some cases months or even years prior to anything bad happening, we have associated Mothmen negatively, when in actual fact they have tried to warn people of the impending event. In order to gain people’s confidence in their ability to foresee events, they have forecast disasters, some which do not represent an immediate danger to those hearing the prophecy, for example, natural disasters such as earthquakes, but in another country. The Mothmen do not cause the earthquake, and they are not able to stop it, yet they can warn people of it coming. The very fact that no one uses that information to help people in another part of the world is not the Mothman’s fault. I believe that the Silver Bridge disaster might have been avoided, and I have an explanation for it.
A curse; words spoken, being a living breathing entity, was put over the land. By whom and why is actually irrelevant. The curse had a place to embed itself until such a time when it would create the most impact. No one who curses actually wants nice things to happen - that’s called a blessing. The spiritually perceptive would have known about the curse and probably did all that they could to hold it off as much as rid the land of it. When nothing happened in their lifetime, they were happy that they had done enough, believing that the curse was dealt with.
Angels In Hiding
Once an angel has been sent, there is no stopping it. The angel in this film tried to warn people. It even mimicked those who lived in the area to the point that they believed they were talking to a member of the community they knew very well. Indeed, there are well-documented abilities written in the Bible recorded as spirits’ skills. They warn that all spirits should be tested. The Mothman is spirit that has manifested. Do you think it is intelligent? I’d say so. Do you think then, that it would appreciate that its personal appearance may alarm some folk and would know where to hide until it were commanded by God to make itself known to a few chosen people? I’d say so. The message given by a Mothman, “There is nothing to fear” or, “Do not be afraid” is exactly what thousands of people the world over and what various accounts in the Bible will tell you a visiting angel starts any communication with. However, the awesome nature of the being causes fear and trembling. This is a paradox, but entirely understandable.
DREAMS
Watching Us Watching Them
Just like the rest of the human race, from time-to-time I have disturbing dreams, most of which I have no true recollection. Nevertheless, one of them carries an underlying theme of me, spotting the spirits, who then spot me while I am watching them. The dream is always the same. I’m walking down a street I do not know. The street is wide, well lit, but looks dark, and stretches as far as the eye can see, with no end in sight. After walking for a little while someone I have never met, but whom I feel I know well, stands beside me. I spot lights in the sky to my right. I know the lights are supernatural. There are always three lights, far off, that stop in their tracks. The size of a tennis ball, they communicate that they have been noticed and then unanimously decide to approach the one who is watching them. The truth be known, I am beginning to ‘see’ the spiritual truths of battles lost, won, and still to finish. I am learning how to stay in control and, at this point in the dream, I have to either stand my ground, or pretend that I have not seen these entities. On some occasions in the past, I heard God say, “Do not let them know you are here”. The last time I had this dream, I struggled least of all, but was still uncomfortable with making myself known as someone who can glimpse directly into the supernatural world. As well as the dreams, I have experienced a psychological state that is as close to the wakeful state as I could be without being fully conscious, and the following stories are an account of my supernatural/spiritual degree of awareness.
The Dream Manifests
I had slept all night. It was summer, and I was warm with the sunlight already invading my concluding sleep cycle. As I was coming through this state of consciousness, I heard a noise. It was people talking. I thought that it might be people in the garden next to the house, but somehow, I knew this not to be the case. I was not able to regain full consciousness. I then realised that I could see my bedroom, yet my eyes were shut. The room looked different, brighter and held a slightly different atmospheric colour to it. The voices were clear and I knew three ‘people’ were arguing. They were not raising their voices, but merely stating their case. When I ‘looked’ around the room, they were at the doorway. Two were tall, and one was a shorter, darker-skinned being. At this point the ‘people’s’ consciousness altered and I was aware that they knew I could see them. The argument continued, but in a different language, a murmuring, or something close to a muttering. The murmuring I know to be of the angelic realm. I speak in tongues, a gift given to me through the Holy Spirit, and I know the sound of this language. When I speak in tongues, I have a translation that is instant. When the beings, the angels switched from a decipherable language such as English, to a murmur, on this occasion I was not able to translate what I could hear although the tone did not change. Then I woke up, plastered to the sheets, astonished at the degree of perspiration. I perceived the beings to be angels and the fear I experienced as described as a result of the awesome nature of the angels.
MEMORIES
Caravan Fire
In the same year that I read The Mothman book, my family and I were on holiday in Dawlish Warren in Devon. The beach at Dawlish is beautiful. The sand is fine and the dunes are a lot of fun. I don’t think that what happened when I was there had anything to do with the resort, but everything to do with the book I was reading and the repercussions of the spiritual realm within our own temporal existence.
I began the book on the first night at the caravan park. During the drive down from our home, in the equivalent town to Sleepy Hollow - less the headless horseman, my two brothers and I had hoped for a caravan with an awning to sleep under. Our imagination ran riot at the prospect of sleeping almost under the stars. That first night with a lovely meal inside us, after dealing with the disappointment of no awning and therefore no starry adventure, we were very much looking forward to a day on the beach for our holiday’s first outing. I settled down with the book and so the pattern of a relaxing holiday mood of reading, walking, swimming, and so on, continued for a few days until I had read The Mothman Prophecies from cover to cover. That night I could not sleep. I lay at one end of the caravan, separated off by a curtain to give both myself and my parents much needed privacy. I could see the stars through the break in the rusty brown curtains, and was secretly glad that the awning was not part of the deal. Mum and my elder brother had made a trip to the communal bathroom a little earlier on. I remember that the door would jam slightly before it would close firmly, and you would have to give it an extra tug to bring it properly into its frame. This made a rattling sound as the shelf to the right of the door and its contents would wobble and shudder slightly.
“Love, I’ll leave the fire on until I get back from the loo”, my dad announced to mum who was already tucked up in bed. She didn’t say anything, but offered a little muttering in agreement, “Hmm, hmm.” She was probably reading in bed, and was only prepared to offer a perfunctory response. Although I could not see what was happening in their part of our hired home, I knew their movements and habits as if they were my own. The sound of the door being tugged lulled me into a more sleepy state. The family was wound down for the evening and we were all safe. A second later, and I was wide-awake to my mother’s shrill cries for help. I tore my way through the curtain only to find flames licking their way along the ceiling and towards the curtain, a mere metre from the source of the fire. My father had opened the door at the sound of his wife’s screams, but was helpless; the fire was at full force nearest to where he stood, and the only thing he held in his hands as a defence to such a thirsty killer was a toilet roll and a torch. I grabbed mum by the arm and yanked her to her feet. She was reluctant to leave the relative safety of her bed, but I could foresee the flames devouring the blankets, and eventually pinning her to the back wall of the caravan until they had their way with her. As I guided her to the nearest window, which on reflection would have opened up to a ridiculous six inches and may not have permitted our escape, my older brother left his bedroom. He stood at the side of the flames and was just able to reach across to a fire extinguisher, which he sprayed over the fire. Not a bad action for a twelve year old. With the fire fully extinguished we all examined the area around the centre of the blaze. The evidence we found pointed a finger to me. The jammy door had made the objects on the shelf wobble, a little more each time, getting closer to the edge until a bottle of highly flammable nail varnish remover wobbled off the shelf, and as it fell, hit the side of the gas fire, that had been left alight to keep my mum as snug as possible. The chemical combination burst into a spray of technicolour flames. This unfortunate event caught the head of the family unaware. He was expected to be the one most likely to keep his cool in an emergency, but was unable to help. The last thing that was said over the scene was delivered by the youngest member of the family, my nine-year-old brother. He had been convinced all along that the book I had been reading, The Mothman Prophecies, was bringing us bad luck. Speaking to the whole family but his words and posture directed towards me, he simply said, “It was the book”.
Later in the week, we were back on the beach. With the dunes surrounding us offering a natural windbreak, we felt as if we’d entered paradise. You could just hear the sea, it was lovely and warm, and sandwiches were being munched. Dad asked what we were all going to play at for the rest of the day. “Dunes!” we all shouted. The first game would be to take a walk to see which dunes would make the best sand castles. Dad said he’d find us in a little while. Happy with the patch, we began to dig. A little while into the construction of “Sand City” three children approached us. The eldest of the three, a girl of a few years my senior, and two boys, a couple of years younger than me, asked if they could play. I wasn’t too sure. There was something about them, and I felt threatened. Before long the girl started to pick a little fight, complaining that I had the best sand all of the time. I gave in quickly and suggested we swapped sides. As she rose to her feet along with the two younger boys, she gave me a good look, and raised her foot ready to either kick sand in my direction, or plant it into the nearest victim’s face, when she stopped midway, lowered her foot, looked very carefully at my face and said, “She’s got the mark - we’re leaving” and off they all went. My dad appeared almost immediately afterwards, and joined in on the fun. I never did find out exactly what ‘the mark’ was, but as we were all once spirit first, we all have the ability to “see” spiritual activity and warnings and we also all carry the ability to practice foresight. Perhaps the young girl saw something that warned her not to cause trouble.
Not much of a story to tell, but something that really did happen. Was the book connected to the two incidences as my younger brother then believed? I guess we will never know and yet always wonder at such mysteries.
Julie Grinnell
'The Whisperer'
This article was posted by Julie Grinnell
