The Neutron’s Capitol Cornerstone Party
October 13th 2007
Sometime in 2007 while chilling on my sundeck in Costa Rica, I came up with a new idea for the Neutron Timewave event series. I received an e-mail from my Masonic lodge that mentioned an important date was coming up to commemorate the 700th anniversary the Knights Templar were rounded up, tortured and executed on Friday the 13th of October 1307. By the way, that’s where the ominous superstition of Friday the Thirteen comes from. It also happened to coincide with the 215th anniversary of the George Washington’s Masonic ceremony to lay the cornerstone of the U.S. Capitol. This may not make any sense whatsoever to the reader but suffice it to say that these were extremely important historical dates to any Mason and, especially, to me.
I thought to myself, “Wouldn’t it be great to invite some hippies and some Masons and get a big picnic party going on the public lawn just in front of the White House? I could use the event kind of as a political rally as well.” I thought that if I started early promoting the event, it would go viral and it would be bigger than the Million Man March. I called the Secretary of a Masonic lodge close to the White House and told him what I was planning. He loved the idea and said he’d cooperate in any way possible to as many brothers out there on that day.
I came up with the nucleus of the program. It was going to be like a mass picnic. The proposed activities included a tentative White House tour, Frisbee chucking, a drum circle, speed walking races, chipping contest, sword fighting, and jousting, which obviously was a joke. I also said whirling dervishes were welcome. I was thinking about having a stage in case anyone wanted to do an open mic or say something for the good of humanity.
I thought that if I were going to travel all the way from Costa Rica just for this event, there must be something else I was meant to do. I searched online and lo and behold, I found a concert called Planet Drum lead by one of my heroes, Mickey Hart, one of the two drummers of the Grateful Dead. The concert was at George Washington University just days prior to my event. Talk about synchronicity. I was blown away.
In addition to the Grateful Dead coincidence, it had recently crossed my mind recently that I might want to look into getting master’s degree in Political Science from George Washington University. I was contemplating the program to compliment my degree from Thunderbird if I was going to be taken seriously as a Presidential candidate. Many ambassadors, Senators, U.S. Representatives, and former Heads of State were alumni.
As the date got closer, I started to think more grandiose. I called Mickey Hart’s agent to see if he and his friends would lead a huge drum circle at the event. I was quickly shut down, but not discouraged. At least I had tried. I found a guy on the Web that led drum circles. I told him I was running for President on the Peace Party ticket in 2012. He loved the idea of a drum circle at the White House and said he’d bring drums and friends.
At the time I was in Costa Rica boarding the plane for D.C., I hadn’t really gotten anything off the ground in terms of promoting my party to the public. I wanted to keep my friends in D.C. out of the picture, so they didn’t think I was nuts. I thought, “God’s going to make it go viral and throngs of people will be there.”
I arrived at Reagan International in D.C. and took a cab to my friend Rob’s, who I stayed with a few years before. As far as he knew, I was in town to visit several friends from Thunderbird and see a concert. I had already put his wife and him through my bipolar antics in the past, so I knew not to mention anything about my bipolar disorder, the Masons, the Presidential aspirations, the master’s at GWU nor the Cornerstone party. I knew that he knew I had dark secrets, but it was best to keep them in the dark.
I went to see Planet Drum at GWU and then hung out with Rob and friends on Friday. On the big day of the Cornerstone party, I caught the train to a metro rail station near the White House. It was a beautiful sunny day. I honestly didn’t know what to expect. I asked myself, “Was the drum circle going to be there?” And, “Was ANYBODY going to be there?”. When I showed up at the elliptical lawn in front of the White House, I was the only person in sight. The grandiose vision I had in my head all along did not come true.
I wasn’t disappointed in the least because I thought God had brought me there to communicate something very special to me. I laid down in the exact center of the elliptical and started to practice some transcendental meditation. I listened to what I call God in my head. I must have been there for a few hours trying to sort through thoughts. I had a lot of material to go through; the new international cult, the Freemasons, my job and life in Costa Rica, and my wife and family. I was looking for the next mission.
The End of the World
As I was meditating on the lawn, I started getting clear thoughts of what the future was to hold for me. I was to organize an End of the World Party in 2012. It was to be the coup de grâce, the final blow that would push us all over the proverbial falls from the reality as we came to collectively know it into a new dimension. The idea was so fucking insane that I have a tough time even thinking my mind would go there. In 2012, the December Solstice coincided with the end of the “Great Cycle” of the Long Count in the Mayan calendar. Many saw this as a prophecy of the end of the world. I saw this as the beginning of a new dimension where miracles would start to appear as predicted by Terrence McKenna in his book “Archaic Revival”
On December 21, 2012, Neutron Timewave productions was going to orchestrate huge parties in major cities all around the globe that would all be broadcasted on my media network. It was going to be like New Year’s Eve, although I called it “New Era’s Eve”. All media networks would be covering the concert events as they unfolded around the world just like any New Year’s Eve. That idea came from the ABC news coverage of Peter Jennings at the Phish show in 1999 as he went around the world.
Months prior from Costa Rica in 2007, Mariam and I had booked a very special spiritual journey to Egypt through the head of the International Order of Gnostic Templars for November, just a few weeks after my Cornerstone Party in D.C. I had read about ancient king making ceremonies that took place in the Great Pyramid and I knew we were going to be within the very King’s Chamber where they purportedly took place. Looking into the future from in front of the White House, I came up with a wild twist for the big End of the World Party.
It was going to be the real “Where’s Neutron” show like I envisioned in Miami back in 1999 with the whole world watching, but only I knew what was going on. I was the master puppeteer that staged everything. It would have been like the movie The Truman show where I was playing the executive producer, Ed Harris, watching everybody else fumble around until they got the picture that I was the real Son of God.
The whole event was to start in Cairo, Egypt at 11:11am Universal Time on 12/21/12, which scientifically marked the apex of the solstice. With the help of the patriarchs of the town of Giza where the pyramids are located, I was going to organize a small, private king making ceremony to transform me into a divine being just like the pharaohs of ancient times within the King’s Chamber of the Great Pyramid. My closest family members, friends, and favorite celebrities would be on the guest list. I wasn’t going to be just some ordinary deity. I would become the immortal God himself, Ruler of the Universe. I would become the compassionate Supreme Being that ruled in the name of love. This fantasy I was actually pursuing had nothing to do with an ego trip or power trip. It was just a crazy extrapolation of thoughts made into a real-life story line.
I was calculating the fact that the media would catch on somehow and find out about the event in the nick of time and the concert would sell out with throngs of people trying to get in. I had the world’s attention now, but nobody would know what was really going on behind the scenes at the king making ceremony. I figured there would be a leak or I would have personally made a phone call to Wolf Blitzer to give him the scoop.
Immediately following, I wanted to book the Grateful Dead to play in front of the Sphinx and great pyramids as they had done for the fall equinox in 1978. Given that Jerry Garcia had passed on from this existence, we were going to project a holographic image of him on stage. Their transcendental jam music would send the packed crowd into a state of ecstasy just in time for Bob Weir to make the announcement that a king had just been born. He would say it in a cryptical way that only the people that were tripping on psychedelics would capture the profundity of what he had just said. Then I would come out on stage dressed in my ordinary Deadhead clothes like Birkenstocks and a tie dye and I would then give a very simple message of peace to the world.
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The Vatican Coronation
From Cairo, I would then fly to Rome for my divine coronation that would make any previous one thrown by the Royal Family of England look like a joke. Except this Coronation would take place in the Vatican at St. Peter’s Basilica and I would be crowned along with my wife by the Pope himself. I thought I was going to be the last in a lineage of popes starting from St. Peter, the Rock of the church appointed by Christ himself. I went so far as to think I was the resurrection of Christ’s soul, but in a new body. That day of the coronation was to be the first day of reckoning, or the Judgment Day. I would have unlimited power to bestow justice upon the world as I saw fit. I was to become the Supreme Leader of the Universe.
The Pope would give me a big hug and from the energy that coursed through his body, he immediately would recognize me as the Son of God. I would then make the greatest proclamation in all of history by declaring that we were in heaven on earth and that we just entered the New World Order. At this point, I would have unlimited power like the emperor of the dark side in Star Wars, but only to be used with utmost compassion. Just as I envisioned in Switzerland in 1994, I thought I had the power to save every human on the planet just by shaking their hand or looking at them directly in the pupils of their eyes.
Checkmate, Game Over
From Rome, I would secretly fly to Washington D.C. on one of the Vatican’s private jets, assuming the Pope would allow me. I figured he wouldn’t mind doing the Son of God a small favor or two. I calculated the length of the flight and time changes to make sure I’d arrive there at a reasonable hour. I was going to have the Pope call the United States President, who hadn’t been elected at the time, and deliver the message to him that the Son of God was en route to D.C. and that he ought to have somebody meet him at the airport and take him to the White House for a private meeting.
I would arrive at the White House late that same evening on 12/21/12. Once at the White House I would greet the President at the front door dressed in a suit and tie as would be appropriate. In our brief meeting, I would have explained to him that the End of the World was at hand and that it was time for the Son of God to take over the Presidential responsibilities prior to the inauguration. I would have requested the President assemble as many of his secretaries and advisers as he could into the Cabinet room the following morning for an emergency meeting.
Everybody would sit down in the meeting at the long table and the President would walk into the room. I knew that particular day in history fell on a Saturday, so the President would sit down and ask jokingly, “Who called this meeting?” Then he would add, “Just kidding. I’d like to bring in a good friend of mine”. Then I, the privately appointed President, would walk into the room and greet everybody. The President would then continue to say that I am running the show now and that my orders trumped those of the President. The President adds, “He basically has an all access pass and deserves your full cooperation.”
I briefly would address everybody in the room and make a promise that I would not betray their trust. Being the total prankster that I am, I would have ripped open my button down work shirt and expose that I was wearing my Mr. Neutron costume underneath. Just like General Zod in Superman 2, I would have commanded the President to kneel before Mr. Neutron. As everybody busted out laughing, I’d run out the door and shout “Where’s Waldo?” Then the “real” reality show would begin like the game as I envisioned in Miami in 1999 as people scrambled to find me. I would then walk out of the White House, exit through the back gate, catch a cab and vanish into the distance. I still had a lot of work to do, this time, it was entirely comedy related.
My next stop would be to catch the last flight out of D.C. My destination was the Plaza Hotel in New York City where I had visited when I was eleven years old in 1982. It was fit for a new President and I wouldn’t have been mobbed by the press because they would have had no clue that I was showing up. I would have met and greeted people along the way with a firm handshake but avoid mob scenes.
The next day I was to head to NBC Studios in Rockefeller Plaza to fulfill the prophesy I had in Miami at the Delano hotel. I was going to crash the set of Saturday Night Live in the opening skit set in the White House, which they commonly did. I would show up to the building unannounced just before dress rehearsal, so we could put the pieces together for the Superman II skits. I envisioned that there were infinite possibilities of how we would put the skits together, but there was going to be some preparation and a lot of improvisation. Most importantly, I was going to be the one to shout, “Live from New York. It’s Saturday Night.”
Neutron’s Global Cruise
From New York I would travel to Miami, Florida where I’d take a cruise with as many of my friends, family, members of the Gnostic Templars, Freemasons, Deadheads and Thunderbirds as possible. We’d have a ceremony in the big theater of the largest cruise ship in the world, the Oasis of the Seas. I would explain to everybody that we are in heaven on earth and that we are going to be circumnavigating the world spreading the good news and, little by little, stop all the suffering in the world. It was actually a stunt to be taken from L. Ron Hubbard's playbook.
Then I peacefully woke up from my meditative state and remembered where I was in front of the White House. It was like a dream, but it was so real. I really thought the future was going to go down something like that. You can say that I just experienced what is called a spiritual emergency or awakening. I was scratching my head in disbelief at how awesome the storyline was and how, if it really didn’t go down that way, it would still make great material for book or a movie. I thought it was time to dust off my journals from Switzerland and Miami and revive the Neutron Timewave idea.
I looked around for a few moments, and asked a question to God, “What is the real purpose of you bringing me all this way? It must be for you to show me something.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a half dollar coin with JFK on it. He said, “Here you will lay the cornerstone in 2012 to rebuild a new Temple of Solomon where humanity can come pray to us.” The original Solomon’s Temple was built in Jerusalem in ancient Biblical times that purportedly held the Ark of the Covenant and was dedicated to Yahweh. With my bare hands, I dug a little hole in the ground and deposited the half dollar. Then suddenly it came to me. I was there to metaphorically lay the cornerstone in my personal sacred temple to God. I thought, “I now have a mission and that is to bring peace to the whole world and help others build their own sacred temple.”
I left the “Cornerstone Party” feeling it was a smashing success, definitely worth the trip. It was just God and me talking one-on-one and making grandiose plans together. There was no way I was going to forget what we discussed as it was engraved in my brain like a computer chip. It was time to start planning. Then I got up and caught the metro rail back to Rob’s house.
Upon returning to Costa Rica, I started acting on my grandiose plans. I made it through the thick of a manic episode in Washington D.C.; however, I hadn’t come down completely. I started playing into the fantasy that was going through my head. I tried to put the Grateful Dead concert together first. I called my friend, Michael in San Francisco, who was friends with Bob Weir, the rhythm guitarist of the Dead, and got the name and number of his booking agent, Matt, in New York.
I spoke to Matt for about a half hour about the concept that I partially took from an article in Rolling Stones magazine interview with Jerry Garcia. He was thoroughly intrigued and blown away. I left the theme out about me being the President or a divine ruler. I thought that was going to sort itself out naturally. He said he’d talk to Bob and the other members of the band about the idea and get back to me.
Then I actually phoned Cairo to the Director of the Sound and Light Show in front of the Sphinx and the Great Pyramids. We talked for almost thirty minutes. He loved the idea and remembered the Grateful Dead from 1978 when they played there. He said he would block the date on his calendar for the End of the World Party on 12/21/12. I got so excited I didn’t know what to do with myself. He didn’t even require a deposit.
I also had a major card up my sleeve to reach the Pope, or so I thought at least. My New Testament theology professor at the University of San Francisco was a good friend of Pope Benedict XVI. I had seen him on CNN giving an interview when Pope John Paul II passed away. He was no longer teaching at USF, so I tracked him down in Florida. I gave him a call and got through to him on the first try. I told him that I had a special message for the Pope. I knew that he had first hand access to him. He told me he was short on time and that I should write him.
Here’s what I wrote:
Dear Fr Fessio,
I extend a big hug from sunny Costa Rica. I saw you on CNN during the papal sequestering. It was great to see your face again. I have fond memories of your class. I remembered some of your funny jokes such as why priests don't look down in the shower. I also remember having a few pints on Clement St with the other students. I'll always remember going over C.S. Lewis' Miracles.
I am going to send you this PowerPoint regarding my life and my wife's life. I find this to be better because if I wrote you a letter, I'd probably go outside the margins and you'd think I'm nuts. haha. In all sincerity, the implications of the file are quite profound. It paints a story of how Mariam and I are the chosen couple filled with the Holy Spirit to take this current era into the next.
Incidentally, I did write a letter to Pope John Paul II to give his blessings to my wife's dying mother. I had trouble getting the fax through to the Vatican due to an accent issue on behalf of the secretary. I dearly miss him. I cried for some time along with my wife.
I just got home from the Friday fish fry with my father, Joe and my sister, Mary. It is now 10:30 local time. Whenever it is convenient, please call me at +506 399-9000. I will go to sleep at midnight. Are you available by telephone?
I hope all is well and wish you my best.
The PowerPoint I just sent had some pictures and dates in it outlining the chronology of Mariam’s and my life. I thought that if he were brilliant enough, he could have figured out that we were the Holy Couple. I didn’t hear back from him in a few weeks, so I looked over what I had sent him. I thought to myself, “How absurd. How the hell was he supposed to make something of this?” I called him back to explain myself and apologize for wasting his time. I told him that I was bipolar and not in my right mind when I sent that to him. He accepted my apology and wished me the best of luck.
On top of that, I actually wrote a letter directly to the Pope to tell him the Savior is here. I had planned on doing it more towards the timeframe of 2012, but the anxiety was killing me. I just had to let him know. He was my buddy. After dealing with several women with heavy Italian accents, I finally contacted one of the Pope’s private secretaries. I said I had an extremely urgent and important message to give to him for his eyes only. He said that I had to use a specific fax number, which he then gave to me. I sent the letter and it went through. I was so excited. I was hoping he would contact me as soon as he got around to the reading the letter.
You can see how my dreams got clouded with delusions and I actually started acting out them out. I actually thought I was going to be the Ruler of the Universe, but that I had live my humble life out first as I worked in real estate in Costa Rica. I was addicted to copious amounts of cocaine at the time too, drank beer excessively and smoked a lot of pot. These factors wreaked havoc on my mental illness. In this dangerous state of mind, I fly back to Costa Rica and the on to Egypt for real.