I continue to chip away at that last remaining archiving project--Mathew's star-signed reviews for the 1844-46 New York "Tribune," which are mistakenly attributed by historians to Margaret Fuller. Meanwhile, about a month ago I had "put it out to the universe" that I'd like a shelf unit to put my loose archival items in--19th-century newspapers, booklets, portraits, etc. I had in mind one of those library cabinets with multiple shallow drawers for maps, etc. A few days go I noticed an antique chest of drawers at a garage sale, and the drawers turned out to be precisely the same dimensions as the cardboard box I'd been using for these items. It now sits next to the book shelf with glass doors, which I picked up at Goodwill recently, in my small hallway. Yesterday, I went to Salvation Army looking for a suitable lamp. This new set of drawers has a wide, deep-stained wood top, perfect for spreading out old newspapers and reading them; but I needed light in the hallway. I found the perfect lamp, which only needed a little tightening; while there, I found a smaller version of a wall clock I once had, and loved; plus, computer speakers I was wanting for my new video projector (for giving talks).
I say all that to say this--it feels as though the red carpet is being rolled out in front of me; or, that I am being very carefully looked after.
At one and the same time, it is as though I'm wading through molasses. There's a heavy hand of opposition against what I'm trying to do. So it's like grease and molasses, both.
I'm especially experiencing the "molasses" when it comes to arranging guests for my new/old radio show, "Metaphysical Explorations." You'd think I was soliciting money from them, instead of offering them free publicity. I'll make a contact, get a tentative agreement, and then I can't seem to bring it to a conclusion. I suppose that now I'm in the publicity phase of this project, I've stepped into the realm of "sales"; and I've always had a great deal of difficulty closing sales. It seems manipulative, to me; as though I am setting off a trap, having lured someone into it. In fact, ethically, I can't do it. So a whole bunch of "fish" get away.
I imagine, sometimes, that people look into my information a little more deeply online, and get scared. Or, sometimes I just think that people are busy. I do get the sense that in this era, it is now standard procedure to simply fail to get back to someone you don't want to deal with, or don't have time for. When people's plates get too full, these days, they just let the stuff on the back fall over the edge. I was brought up not to do that, and it still surprises me when I'm on the receiving end of it.
Still, I feel that I am being gently and carefully walked through a process of training for a speaking and presentation career. I just finished a Skype video interview, which I thought went exceptionally well--except for one technical problem. I went to a great deal of trouble to make sure I was lighted properly, which is tricky in my little attic apartment. But when the video was posted on YouTube, it was dark and contrasty. I learned from my host that it looked fine to them during the interview proper; but that somehow in the editing process (which he wasn't involved in) it came out this way. But here is where the molasses comes in--he was going to check on it and get back to me, and so far I haven't heard anything. That means I would have to press the matter, which I'd really prefer not to do, because the host is a very nice fellow with whom I've established a relationship. My hunch is that this being a spooky paranormal show, the editor decided I would look spookier if he rendered me dark and in high contrast.
Today I have a community access TV interview in Haverhill, Mass., where Mathew grew up. It's early as I write this, and I haven't had as much sleep as I'd ideally like to have had, but I can do it. I'm prepared to talk more specifically about Mathew Franklin Whittier and his relationship to Haverhill and his family, including his famous brother, John Greenleaf Whittier. But again, as this is a paranormal/ghost-hunting show, they may not be interested in that side of it, even there in Haverhill.
Then, in mid-August, I have an interview with Roberta Grimes; and that's all the interviews I have lined up, except possibly a TV interview with foreign filmmaker Anthony Chene. He's going to be in the area filming interviews with various spiritual types, and will try to fit me into his schedule if he can.
Finally, I have a talk scheduled for a spiritual group named KRI in Portsmouth, NH, on Aug. 24th. I have a presentation prepared, and need to practice it a bit, but I should be ready. I'm aware that I need to excel at all these things, in order for them to lead to something else.
Meanwhile, my YouTube videos presenting the evidence that Mathew Franklin Whittier was the real author of "The Raven," languish with one or two hits per day. They need to go viral--they deserve to go viral--but so far, they haven't. Presumably, it's because nobody believes me, nor do they approach those videos with an open mind. In fact, the little bit of feedback I get, both directly and through the stats, is that people are so sure I'm wrong, that they won't even bother to watch more than a few minutes of the first video, no less approach it with an open mind. You see what you expect to see. There is nothing wrong with the evidence. Logically, three or four of these pieces of evidence are enough to throw serious suspicion on Edgar Allan Poe's claim to have written "The Raven." One of them is enough to justify looking more deeply into the matter, which is to say, buying and reading my e-books to get the full background. These points are not the proof, themselves--they are the indicators of the proof. The proof lies in my books, which is to say, the complete story, the full body of research.
Remember that I am not asking you to believe in aliens, or bigfoot. I am merely asking you to entertain the possibility that Edgar Allan Poe was a phony, a con-artist who artificially built his reputation out of straw (which is essentially what Mathew has hinted on at least two occasions). How many scams do you get in your e-mail every day? How many such people have dishonestly achieved fame, in one field or another? So what is so unbelievable about this? One professor who specializes in Poe, has publicly stated that historians have often been fooled, because they have failed to take into account that Poe lied about himself. Now, when you are in a relationship, and you find that the other person has lied to you, how many more chances do you give him or her? Traditional wisdom is that you give that person no more chances at all--why? Because you can't trust anything they say after that.
The same should be true with anything that Edgar Allan Poe asserted, including his authorship of "The Raven."
Regarding Mathew Franklin Whittier, don't tell me that an author whom scholars have missed entirely, who co-authored "A Christmas Carol" and who single-handedly wrote "The Raven," isn't worth taking a few weeks out of your life to learn about. The problem is that nobody believes me; not believing me, they won't expose themselves to the information. And this is circular, because then, not exposing themselves to the information, they certainly won't believe me. Which is to say, my findings were so good, they were unbelievable--and there the matter rests.
In a reincarnation group I've joined online, I notice that an anonymous person has just recently posted, asserting that he is the reincarnation of not one, but two famous figures. He says he can help us understand reincarnation, and he provides a link to a free online service which gives you your astrological chart. He does not tell us who he is, nor what has led him to believe he is the reincarnation of these two persons, nor what his qualifications are to teach us about reincarnation. This kind of thing is killing me. I, too, assert that I was the past-life author of two famous literary classics. But I have the evidence to back it up. I also have the credentials to be able to teach the subject, and I don't hide my identity. So things which are actually opposite, can often look superficially similar. This requires discernment on the part of the audience. I can't give it to them. They have to be able to tell the difference between myself, and people of that ilk. If they assume, without looking more deeply into my presentation, that I am just like this fellow, and dismiss me out of hand, accordingly, that's not my fault. Again, I can't give the public the faculty of discernment, especially, spiritual discernment. If that's the main problem, the thing will have to wait until a more enlightened generation shows up.
Rest assured, my efforts won't be stymied like this forever, It's like trying to start a fire with flint.* Once the tinder is dry, and the sparks are flying, eventually it will catch. When it does, you will see something quite different--molasses or no molasses.
Stephen Sakellarios, M.S.
*Since I have no funding for promotion.
Music opening this page: "Awaken" by Eric Johnson,
from the album "Up Close"