Twenty three years ago a book was published. It was a small book with some useful information, great humor, brilliant organization and style, as well as being written by one of the greatest minds that western civilization had ever produced. I ought to know. I’m the fellow what wrote it.

And the day it was published something really bad happened to some other people. You see, in the 1980s Radionics was pretty much the province of the U. S. Psychotronic Association and they had a virtual monopoly on what was written about it in the US. They saw themselves as the keepers of the sacred mysteries and took their role very seriously indeed. No humor was allowed in the holy precincts.

And then the roof fell in on them.

In one fell swoop the ability to make and use radionic devices had leapt from the clenched hands of the proprieters of the holy texts and into the public’s greedy clutches. They were, of course, horrified. At one meeting a person was nearly thrown out for merely saying my name. “We don’t talk about HIM here!” they bellowed as they proceeded to look for a rope to lynch him with.

So now they stand at the gate, as they have for decades. There is only one little problem. The gate is still there, but there is no wall attached to it. That is gone.

I’m having fun at their expense, but the truth is that now there may still be folks who think they are gatekeepers of any sort of knowledge, but there are no walls any more. And there is nothing that they can do about it.

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