Post by tarzan on Apr 6, 2018 17:17:24 GMT -5
Who's Daniel (in this context)?
He's stopped giving info to Wilcock long ago; said other informants also got fed up with DW
forum.antiquatis.org/viewtopic.php?f=20&t=977&hilit=daniel
Interview with David Wilcock's informant, Daniel
Post by LoneBear » Tue Aug 26, 2008
Questioner: So, Daniel, what was it that you did at Montauk?
I was a contractor on loan from the aircraft industry, hired to do some real-time Macro programming work on IBM mainframes. I also helped with a few odd projects, where my computer skills came in handy.
Questioner: What kind of programs did you write?
Primarily device drivers that interfaced with the Sage radar installation. We received massive quantities of analog data from an unknown source that had to be digitized, analyzed, restructured and converted to control signals for the antenna. The program specifications were provided by Preston Nichol's group; we basically translated wave equations into computer programs. There was also some analog programming using op-amps (operational amplifiers), but they gave up on the analog approach because it was too time-consuming to have to write an “analog program” by rewiring the cards. The digital approach was faster and more efficient, but had some unforeseen consequences.
Questioner: What kind of consequences?
First off, was limited resolution. A sine wave in an analog signal is just that—sine. When the computer gets a hold of it, it has to do an approximation, sort of like changing a slide to a staircase, with very small steps. Those steps introduce noise and harmonics, which you don’t have with an analog signal. They had special filters to smooth those steps out, but it was never perfect.
Second was what is called “floating point precision”. You may remember in the old days when calculators didn’t work quite right… 2 + 2 = 1.9999. Same problem then… not a real problem when using integers, but some of the magnitudes involved required floating-point math, which was typically limited to 15 digits of precision back then. Tiny bits of data got dropped here and there, and the results were just approximations, not exact calculations. Higher precision was just too slow for those computers.
Third was a boundary error, which occurred when the signals being received went outside of the design range. Similar to turning up the microphone volume too high so the waveform is clipped.
Fourth was just plain processing speed! A room full of IBM 360s back then could not compete with the typical laptop these days. There were processing delays as the systems transferred data back and forth, and massaged it. We tried introducing a time code, so we could determine when a sample was actually taken to correct random delay errors (which always happen like when a system is accessing a disk or swapping memory), but it actually made the problem worse—trying to compensate for the timecode errors took more time, and the system would backlog.
Questioner: How did these problems effect the results of the various projects?
Small things tended to work OK, since the amount of data was lower and the systems could keep up. The further out they reached, the more error was introduced, but they were getting results so they didn’t care. The temporal range of the time experiments was about 6000 years; outside that, the lack of precision sent things to Never-Never-land. There were a number of accidents due to computer problems; some people died.
Questioner: .....weren’t you one of the people who died? Can you tell us about that?
Long story. I was brought in on a special job to see if I could interface a computer to an unusual piece of hardware that the Air Force had obtained. Lot of security on that job. I had two armed men leading me around ringing a bell, and when we walked down the corridor, all the doors would slam shut and any people in the hall would turn their faces to the wall and grab on tight to anything they were holding, so I couldn’t see what it was. Security to the point of creepy.
But, they had to let me see what I needed to interface to. I worked in a small lab, with no windows. Everything was locked up when you entered—you could not get out if you wanted to, and you were stuck there until they came and let you out. In the center was a metal table, bolted to the floor, and floating about a foot in the air above it, an oval-shaped device with burned rods sticking off both ends. And I mean FLOATING… there was NOTHING holding it up. It just sat there, totally silent and unmoving. I worked with a Navy man, BJ, on the project, which was overseen by one Brookhaven’s executive secretaries, and only nice person, Polly (whom we called Pollyanna because she was always so bright and cheery).
From what we were able to determine, the unit was a power system and drive unit out of a flying saucer, that was picked up from somewhere in Pennsylvania. The Air Force had a hell of a time getting in here, because it didn’t want to move. When you tried to shove the thing across the room, it would almost fight you—it wanted to stay at exactly the same place and elevation. The harder you pushed, the harder it would push back, trying to remain still. If you went really slow, you could move it around, but there was a threshold that, when reached, made it revolt. They were unable to fly it in a plane, because it would keep the plane from moving! They tried a helicopter, and it would hold it to the ground. They eventually walked it here in a cart!
My job was to figure out how to interface to it, so they could control it and make it do what they wanted. There was an interface on one end of it, for which they had schematics for. I don’t know where they got them, because it was a fiber optic system that was pretty rare in the computer industry
.... It was an elongated oval, about 2 meters in length and half a meter around at the widest point. On each end were metallic rods that were burned and melted. There were access panels on the sides, which we could remove with a special, non-magnetic tool. It apparently had no weight, but must have since when you removed a cover and got it more than a few inches away, the cover became quite heavy. If the unit were not in operation, it probably would have weighed several tons.
Inside, at the center, was a sphere with long rods sticking out each end, like hydraulic pistons that could separate the sphere into two halves. You couldn’t put anything next to the sphere, because it would literally push it away. The closer you got, the harder it pushed. We figured that was the antigravity mechanism.
The power system appeared to be in two halves, one at each end of the device, but there was no direct link between the two, save that center sphere. We surmised that it was an integrated system; that the power and antigravity drive worked together and that one was the byproduct of the other.
..... We had spent weeks working on the device, sometimes all night long because it was just such a fascinating project. Managed to figure out input and output signals, and were getting some response from it, enough so that we were able to fly it around the room. It was very jerky motion, and curiously was inertia-free. It would move in steps, not smoothly. The first time we got it to move then required replacing a section of the ceiling, as it flew up about 10 feet in one shot! The thing was near indestructible, though, since when other matter got too close, it pushed it away.
The system was controlled by something similar to musical chords. The phase difference between notes was controlling the magnitudes and location of the antigravitational force about it. The computer would transmit what would be like a geometric song, creating standing waves about the central sphere where the peaks and valleys would regulate the anti-gravitational forces. We speculated that the aliens probably just “sang” to the ship to make it work.
The power system had three modes. “Standby” was the state it was found in, where it seemed to lock in on a spatial coordinate, relative to the Earth’s electromagnetic and gravitational field, and remain there. I suppose it could be useful for parking in a geosynchronous orbit.
Mode 2 would allow us to fly it around the room, with some odd effects… when it would pass over something loose, the object would lose its mass and float freely. Kind of like stuff washing in the wake of a boat. We had to be careful in this mode, because the unit would emit X-rays orthogonal to the center, kind of like Saturn’s rings… several bands; quantized energy.
We were not sure what Mode 3 would do, since we already figured out “on” and “off”. We were kind of thinking, “Warp drive?” Had to find out! We took a lot of precautions. Knowing that it would emit dangerous radiation in a ring-like structure, I made sure I was standing behind it, off one of the oblate ends to be well out of harms way. BJ preferred standing behind the lead panels. But I wanted to see what it would do. We switched on, just using the main power setting accelerated to mode 3, and the unit started to DISAPPEAR—it was shrinking along its length, with an odd, green haze forming about it. I heard the teletype console ringing, and looked over to see an error message, “Time parameters exceeded…shutdown initiated!”. I heard BJ yell, “Get out of the way!” Apparently, beams of energy shot out of the burned up rods on the ends in both directions, hitting me squarely in the chest, sending me flying backwards THROUGH the wall of the lab—and I’m not talking crash, bang… I went through the wall as if it wasn’t even there and went sailing outside into the sky!
Questioner: My God! What happened then?
Not sure at that point, as the whole incident became unreal. I remember something grabbing a hold of me, and putting me in something like a clear, glass tube, so I could only move down the tube. Then I was in the psychosurgical bay—or I should say, my body was! I was up in the corner of the room, looking down at myself, in a spiffy military uniform, dead as a doornail on the operating table—but not a scratch on me.
There were a few people there, talking about what they should do. Some woman major was saying that we should just dump my body as “road kill”, a term they used to get rid of accident victims at Montauk, where a car accident was staged with the dead body to make it look more acceptable.
Then the door burst open, and a blonde guy with long hair and a van Dyke came it, saying, “No! We need him.” The typical objections were raised; “What the hell for? He’s just contract labor.” Blonde guy wouldn’t say, but was insisting that they bring me back. Recall having an emotional reaction to this blonde guy, like he actually understood what was going on and was a good friend.
Now, it gets a little strange, or should I say “stranger,” at this point…
My body was dead; there was NO life energy in it. Might as well just been a pile of chemicals on the table. There was no medical procedure to help me there. Blonde guy, who was apparently a rather powerful psychic, knew my consciousness was there and started talking to me, ignoring the others in the room. Kept telling me not to panic, and to remain focused on my life’s mission. It was something to do with my life’s mission which is why they could not let me die—it was somehow connected to Montauk in the future, and critical for them.
It’s difficult to explain, but one cannot move in that disembodied state… you try the muscle controls, but there aren’t any muscles to control! I found that you could follow people based on what you felt for them. I felt trust, and I guess you could say love, for blonde guy, which allowed me, as a disembodied consciousness, to stay with him. The others, particularly Major Monster, would push me away. I don’t remember any more details, as it got more and more dream-like, but the gist of it was that they were going to create a “temporal clone” of me, and reconnect my spirit with my body.
That’s when I finally saw what all those signal wires were coming from… the Montauk chair that controlled the Sage radar system. Blonde guy was in the chair, being helped by redhead guy (Duncan Cameron). From what I’ve been able to reclaim through hypnosis, they apparently reached back to the instant I set “Mode 3” and snatched a copy of my body. It was their temporal intrusion with the Montauk chair from the future that caused the “time parameters exceeded” error to occur and create the incident in the first place! During hypnosis, I was talking about a “loop”—they caused the accident that made them use the Chair to fix the accident, which caused the accident… kind of like a spiritual knot!
With a successful temporal clone, they now had a dead me and a live me, neither with consciousness because when they grabbed me from the past, the act knocked my consciousness out—they had a animated body, still with a soul, but no spirit.
Next I remember being drawn into a circular room, with my live body laying on the floor in the middle of a pentagram, with candles about and people chanting. I was being pulled down, like being sucked into a whirlpool. Blonde guy was in the center, with his hands placed on my head. Then I snapped out of it, sitting in front of a terminal back at my old job, a bit dazed. My old boss came in the door and said, “What are you doing here so early?” I looked at the clock, and it was said “6 o’clock” – apparently AM. I wasn’t at Montauk, I was at my regular job. With no memory of what I was working on. It took over 20 years to recover what had happened that day.
Questioner: That is certainly a fascinating story. It sounds like they put you through some black ritual to reincarnate your consciousness into your body.
Quite possibly. I have had nightmares about being hunted down by “Masonic” types after strange rituals in very ritzy churches, usually getting hit by a dart and knocked unconscious. I don’t know how it all fits in, but they did have some pretty odd connections with the Crowley crowd at Montauk.
He's stopped giving info to Wilcock long ago; said other informants also got fed up with DW
forum.antiquatis.org/viewtopic.php?f=20&t=977&hilit=daniel
Interview with David Wilcock's informant, Daniel
Post by LoneBear » Tue Aug 26, 2008
Questioner: So, Daniel, what was it that you did at Montauk?
I was a contractor on loan from the aircraft industry, hired to do some real-time Macro programming work on IBM mainframes. I also helped with a few odd projects, where my computer skills came in handy.
Questioner: What kind of programs did you write?
Primarily device drivers that interfaced with the Sage radar installation. We received massive quantities of analog data from an unknown source that had to be digitized, analyzed, restructured and converted to control signals for the antenna. The program specifications were provided by Preston Nichol's group; we basically translated wave equations into computer programs. There was also some analog programming using op-amps (operational amplifiers), but they gave up on the analog approach because it was too time-consuming to have to write an “analog program” by rewiring the cards. The digital approach was faster and more efficient, but had some unforeseen consequences.
Questioner: What kind of consequences?
First off, was limited resolution. A sine wave in an analog signal is just that—sine. When the computer gets a hold of it, it has to do an approximation, sort of like changing a slide to a staircase, with very small steps. Those steps introduce noise and harmonics, which you don’t have with an analog signal. They had special filters to smooth those steps out, but it was never perfect.
Second was what is called “floating point precision”. You may remember in the old days when calculators didn’t work quite right… 2 + 2 = 1.9999. Same problem then… not a real problem when using integers, but some of the magnitudes involved required floating-point math, which was typically limited to 15 digits of precision back then. Tiny bits of data got dropped here and there, and the results were just approximations, not exact calculations. Higher precision was just too slow for those computers.
Third was a boundary error, which occurred when the signals being received went outside of the design range. Similar to turning up the microphone volume too high so the waveform is clipped.
Fourth was just plain processing speed! A room full of IBM 360s back then could not compete with the typical laptop these days. There were processing delays as the systems transferred data back and forth, and massaged it. We tried introducing a time code, so we could determine when a sample was actually taken to correct random delay errors (which always happen like when a system is accessing a disk or swapping memory), but it actually made the problem worse—trying to compensate for the timecode errors took more time, and the system would backlog.
Questioner: How did these problems effect the results of the various projects?
Small things tended to work OK, since the amount of data was lower and the systems could keep up. The further out they reached, the more error was introduced, but they were getting results so they didn’t care. The temporal range of the time experiments was about 6000 years; outside that, the lack of precision sent things to Never-Never-land. There were a number of accidents due to computer problems; some people died.
Questioner: .....weren’t you one of the people who died? Can you tell us about that?
Long story. I was brought in on a special job to see if I could interface a computer to an unusual piece of hardware that the Air Force had obtained. Lot of security on that job. I had two armed men leading me around ringing a bell, and when we walked down the corridor, all the doors would slam shut and any people in the hall would turn their faces to the wall and grab on tight to anything they were holding, so I couldn’t see what it was. Security to the point of creepy.
But, they had to let me see what I needed to interface to. I worked in a small lab, with no windows. Everything was locked up when you entered—you could not get out if you wanted to, and you were stuck there until they came and let you out. In the center was a metal table, bolted to the floor, and floating about a foot in the air above it, an oval-shaped device with burned rods sticking off both ends. And I mean FLOATING… there was NOTHING holding it up. It just sat there, totally silent and unmoving. I worked with a Navy man, BJ, on the project, which was overseen by one Brookhaven’s executive secretaries, and only nice person, Polly (whom we called Pollyanna because she was always so bright and cheery).
From what we were able to determine, the unit was a power system and drive unit out of a flying saucer, that was picked up from somewhere in Pennsylvania. The Air Force had a hell of a time getting in here, because it didn’t want to move. When you tried to shove the thing across the room, it would almost fight you—it wanted to stay at exactly the same place and elevation. The harder you pushed, the harder it would push back, trying to remain still. If you went really slow, you could move it around, but there was a threshold that, when reached, made it revolt. They were unable to fly it in a plane, because it would keep the plane from moving! They tried a helicopter, and it would hold it to the ground. They eventually walked it here in a cart!
My job was to figure out how to interface to it, so they could control it and make it do what they wanted. There was an interface on one end of it, for which they had schematics for. I don’t know where they got them, because it was a fiber optic system that was pretty rare in the computer industry
.... It was an elongated oval, about 2 meters in length and half a meter around at the widest point. On each end were metallic rods that were burned and melted. There were access panels on the sides, which we could remove with a special, non-magnetic tool. It apparently had no weight, but must have since when you removed a cover and got it more than a few inches away, the cover became quite heavy. If the unit were not in operation, it probably would have weighed several tons.
Inside, at the center, was a sphere with long rods sticking out each end, like hydraulic pistons that could separate the sphere into two halves. You couldn’t put anything next to the sphere, because it would literally push it away. The closer you got, the harder it pushed. We figured that was the antigravity mechanism.
The power system appeared to be in two halves, one at each end of the device, but there was no direct link between the two, save that center sphere. We surmised that it was an integrated system; that the power and antigravity drive worked together and that one was the byproduct of the other.
..... We had spent weeks working on the device, sometimes all night long because it was just such a fascinating project. Managed to figure out input and output signals, and were getting some response from it, enough so that we were able to fly it around the room. It was very jerky motion, and curiously was inertia-free. It would move in steps, not smoothly. The first time we got it to move then required replacing a section of the ceiling, as it flew up about 10 feet in one shot! The thing was near indestructible, though, since when other matter got too close, it pushed it away.
The system was controlled by something similar to musical chords. The phase difference between notes was controlling the magnitudes and location of the antigravitational force about it. The computer would transmit what would be like a geometric song, creating standing waves about the central sphere where the peaks and valleys would regulate the anti-gravitational forces. We speculated that the aliens probably just “sang” to the ship to make it work.
The power system had three modes. “Standby” was the state it was found in, where it seemed to lock in on a spatial coordinate, relative to the Earth’s electromagnetic and gravitational field, and remain there. I suppose it could be useful for parking in a geosynchronous orbit.
Mode 2 would allow us to fly it around the room, with some odd effects… when it would pass over something loose, the object would lose its mass and float freely. Kind of like stuff washing in the wake of a boat. We had to be careful in this mode, because the unit would emit X-rays orthogonal to the center, kind of like Saturn’s rings… several bands; quantized energy.
We were not sure what Mode 3 would do, since we already figured out “on” and “off”. We were kind of thinking, “Warp drive?” Had to find out! We took a lot of precautions. Knowing that it would emit dangerous radiation in a ring-like structure, I made sure I was standing behind it, off one of the oblate ends to be well out of harms way. BJ preferred standing behind the lead panels. But I wanted to see what it would do. We switched on, just using the main power setting accelerated to mode 3, and the unit started to DISAPPEAR—it was shrinking along its length, with an odd, green haze forming about it. I heard the teletype console ringing, and looked over to see an error message, “Time parameters exceeded…shutdown initiated!”. I heard BJ yell, “Get out of the way!” Apparently, beams of energy shot out of the burned up rods on the ends in both directions, hitting me squarely in the chest, sending me flying backwards THROUGH the wall of the lab—and I’m not talking crash, bang… I went through the wall as if it wasn’t even there and went sailing outside into the sky!
Questioner: My God! What happened then?
Not sure at that point, as the whole incident became unreal. I remember something grabbing a hold of me, and putting me in something like a clear, glass tube, so I could only move down the tube. Then I was in the psychosurgical bay—or I should say, my body was! I was up in the corner of the room, looking down at myself, in a spiffy military uniform, dead as a doornail on the operating table—but not a scratch on me.
There were a few people there, talking about what they should do. Some woman major was saying that we should just dump my body as “road kill”, a term they used to get rid of accident victims at Montauk, where a car accident was staged with the dead body to make it look more acceptable.
Then the door burst open, and a blonde guy with long hair and a van Dyke came it, saying, “No! We need him.” The typical objections were raised; “What the hell for? He’s just contract labor.” Blonde guy wouldn’t say, but was insisting that they bring me back. Recall having an emotional reaction to this blonde guy, like he actually understood what was going on and was a good friend.
Now, it gets a little strange, or should I say “stranger,” at this point…
My body was dead; there was NO life energy in it. Might as well just been a pile of chemicals on the table. There was no medical procedure to help me there. Blonde guy, who was apparently a rather powerful psychic, knew my consciousness was there and started talking to me, ignoring the others in the room. Kept telling me not to panic, and to remain focused on my life’s mission. It was something to do with my life’s mission which is why they could not let me die—it was somehow connected to Montauk in the future, and critical for them.
It’s difficult to explain, but one cannot move in that disembodied state… you try the muscle controls, but there aren’t any muscles to control! I found that you could follow people based on what you felt for them. I felt trust, and I guess you could say love, for blonde guy, which allowed me, as a disembodied consciousness, to stay with him. The others, particularly Major Monster, would push me away. I don’t remember any more details, as it got more and more dream-like, but the gist of it was that they were going to create a “temporal clone” of me, and reconnect my spirit with my body.
That’s when I finally saw what all those signal wires were coming from… the Montauk chair that controlled the Sage radar system. Blonde guy was in the chair, being helped by redhead guy (Duncan Cameron). From what I’ve been able to reclaim through hypnosis, they apparently reached back to the instant I set “Mode 3” and snatched a copy of my body. It was their temporal intrusion with the Montauk chair from the future that caused the “time parameters exceeded” error to occur and create the incident in the first place! During hypnosis, I was talking about a “loop”—they caused the accident that made them use the Chair to fix the accident, which caused the accident… kind of like a spiritual knot!
With a successful temporal clone, they now had a dead me and a live me, neither with consciousness because when they grabbed me from the past, the act knocked my consciousness out—they had a animated body, still with a soul, but no spirit.
Next I remember being drawn into a circular room, with my live body laying on the floor in the middle of a pentagram, with candles about and people chanting. I was being pulled down, like being sucked into a whirlpool. Blonde guy was in the center, with his hands placed on my head. Then I snapped out of it, sitting in front of a terminal back at my old job, a bit dazed. My old boss came in the door and said, “What are you doing here so early?” I looked at the clock, and it was said “6 o’clock” – apparently AM. I wasn’t at Montauk, I was at my regular job. With no memory of what I was working on. It took over 20 years to recover what had happened that day.
Questioner: That is certainly a fascinating story. It sounds like they put you through some black ritual to reincarnate your consciousness into your body.
Quite possibly. I have had nightmares about being hunted down by “Masonic” types after strange rituals in very ritzy churches, usually getting hit by a dart and knocked unconscious. I don’t know how it all fits in, but they did have some pretty odd connections with the Crowley crowd at Montauk.