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The Local Lens: Mr. Spock’s Machine


  When I became a man, I put away childish things. Then one day a woman talked to me about a Wishing Machine — or, as I like to call it, a Mr. Spock machine.

  The Mr. Spock machine is a device that makes personal desires come true. The machine is a white box with nine black knobs. The wooden box is a perfect square, 10” by 10” with a copper and a plastic plate on the upper right and left hand corners. The plastic plate is also called a stick pad.

  The master crafter of the Wishing Machine is a man named Dr. Mulder in South Carolina. Dr. Mulder insists that the Wishing Machine works.

  You might call the Wishing Machine a fast-paced prayer box with dials, only the machine works to make your wish come true long after you’ve put it away. Some call the machine advanced magic or techno-shamanism.   

  “It’s all about intention and keeping that intended wish constantly conscious to the universe by sending out the intended signal every second of every day for your desired wish,” Dr. Mulder states. “We have been told all our lives if we think about something long enough it will come true. Since us humans have a hard time focusing on one thought for long periods of time, this device will do that thinking and intending for us 24/7. We can sit back and wait for our wishes to occur.”

  If all this sounds contrary to the world of logic, it is, and that’s what makes it so much fun.

  When tourists go to Rome and visit the Trevi Fountain, they throw coins over their shoulders into the foaming fountain pools and make a wish. It’s the same thing when you find a heads-up penny on the ground. It’s supposed to be automatic good luck, unlike a tails-up penny, which we are supposed to avoid. Of course, there are a million other superstitions out there, from prohibitions against “cutting a tree” (walking around a tree on the sidewalk in order to pass a slow walker in front of you), which is supposed to be extremely bad luck, to the classic black cat scenario.

  The Wishing Machine is something else entirely. It’s about focusing on something you want — a car, a new house, money, a job promotion or even a new boyfriend or girlfriend — and then getting it. The Machine has no limits and no prohibitions unless, of course, your wish is preposterous like wanting to live forever. The machine has even been known to influence political elections. Imagine 200 protesters with Wishing Machines! If competing political parties had Wishing Machines, I imagine there would be an Armageddon of sorts.

  When my friend Connie offered to send me a Wishing Machine for free, I could not refuse. How could I? She initially described it as a radionics device.

  “Radionics has been around since the late 1800s when American physician Dr. Albert Abraham first brought it to light,” she said. “Abraham’s invention was a machine that could diagnose and cure almost any disease. The machine could also work across great distances, or reach a patient in the next room.”

  The Wishing Machine transmits the power of intention (your wish) to the intended source through scalar waves. What are scalar waves? “They are a form of radio waves,” Connie told me, mentioning a guy named Ed Kelly, head of Kelly Research Technologies in Lakemont, GA, which also manufactures radionics devices, especially to farmers who claim that Kelly’s devices yield more crops.

  Well, I’m not a farmer, but like most people I have a few wishes I’d love to see fulfilled, so I told Connie to send the machine as soon as possible.

  When the UPS box arrived, I opened it with a great deal of anticipation, impressed at the quality of the machine’s woodwork and, yes, even the smell of the wood itself. I placed the Mr. Spock gadget on my kitchen table and read the instructions again.

  I was ready to make my first wish.

  To do that I had to write the wish down on paper along with my name and then tape it to the copper plate. The next step was to make sure that all the black dials were on 0 (they go from 0 to 100). After this you turn one dial at a time slowly while meditating on your wish and simultaneously rubbing a finger over the plastic patch. As you rub, you slowly turn the dial up from 0, but the moment your finger gets sticky on the plastic patch you stop turning the dial and leave it where it is. You remove your finger from the plastic patch and start over with the next dial and repeat the same process until you feel the sticky sensation.

  You complete this cycle for all nine dials, then put the machine by a window or on a bookshelf and forget about it. All you have to do now is wait until your wish comes true.

  Connie, who is a longtime paranormal investigator, told me that the timeline for the fulfillment of your wish can be anywhere from seconds to one or 10 days and sometimes weeks.

  She told me that wishers from across the U.S., China, Germany and Switzerland claimed that their migraine headaches went away, divorces were finalized, job offers came out of the blue and they were able to buy the house they’d always wanted. These wishes happened in weeks, days and sometimes within the hour or seconds of setting the dials.

  Connie said that some machines have amplifiers, handheld wands, even helmets designed to maximize the strength of your wish. The cost of these machines can get pretty ridiculous; they go from $800 to $100,000 — sometimes even more. The Mr. Spock machine that was sent to me ordinarily sells for under $200.

  My first wish on the Mr. Spock concerned a friend who had gone home to Allentown and then seemed to disappear off the face of the earth. My wish was to get him to get in touch with me somehow. A week later the unexpected happened. I received a friend request on Facebook. It was my friend Zack, currently in Allentown, asking when he could come and visit.

  Coincidence? Perhaps. I put the machine away because it never pays to get greedy. Do you remember that Brothers Grimm tale, “The Fisherman and His Wife”? It’s about a husband’s quest to catch a golden flounder that was really an enchanted prince. The husband releases the fish and then the wife demands that he go back and ask the fish for a reward of a new house for saving its life. The fish grants the wife’s wish but she’s never satisfied. She keeps making bigger wishes until finally she demands that the fish make her an equal of God. The fish then takes away all of the wishes and returns the couple to their poverty. Greed never pays.

  My second wish concerned another long-lost acquaintance. Again I asked the Mr. Spock machine to bring this person into my personal orbit and once again the lost person reappeared, causing me to inquire of my lost friend what made them contact me after such a long time.

  “Well, I just got this nagging feeling that we should reconnect,” he said.   

  My Mr. Spock machine is about a year old now and occasionally I have to dust the dials and the copper and plastic plates off. I keep it high up on the top of a bookshelf so friends don’t ask me what it is. I’ve used the machine more than twice, of course, and over time got used to strange things happening because of it. I’ve ignored it for months now because sometimes you just want life to take its normal course without “interferences” from Mr. Spock.  But it’s nice to know that in a pinch — an emotional rescue situation — I can suspend the logical part of my brain, tap into the “what if” factor, take down Mr. Spock, make a wish and then watch it come true.

  What more can a man ask for?

The Spirit | Hyperlocal done differently
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