SUPERBOY, Above In Clark Kent's Room With Clark At Age 10______________
The following, referring to "Time" and the potential back-and-forth movement within it, was brought to my attention by a reader of my works, most notedly after having read The Code Maker, The Zen Maker that edges up against a similar time travel-like subject matter --- albeit leaning somewhat more heavily toward the spiritual aspect of it all, especially so as found through the super-normal perceptual states known in Sanskrit as Siddhis. When I was first putting forth the events as so cited in The Code Maker, The Zen Maker, which deals with the mysterious hermitage said to exist somewhere beyond time in a remote area of the Himalayas known under a variety of names such as Gyanganj, Shambhala or Shangri-La, in that I was personally coming from the Siddhis side of things, I never placed what I was writing, at least as I saw it then, into a time travel frame of reference. Many readers saw it differently. For them, discounting Siddhis and moving the events into a time travel schemata seemed to make what I presented somewhat more understandable.
The aforementioned reader of my works remembered a story in a Superboy comic book he had read years ago and since I often cite the influence of comic books from my youth, he brought it to my attention. I was not familiar with the story having long since put reading comics aside by the time it was published in March of 1963. Matter of fact, I was in the Army at the time, having only just been drafted the year before and beginning to be led into the power of the time flow of events the reader found so interesting.
As to those events, after the continued accumulation of a number of otherwise unheralded minor incidents, all or most of which in hindsight have been fully articulated in Doing Hard Time In A Zen Monastery, I found myself as an adult at the ashram of the venerated Indian holy man the Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi for the second time in my life. Wedged within that same set of accumulated albeit minor incidents I also found myself at the sametime in possession of the exact same Captain Midnight Decoder Badge that I used to carry around with me as a kid. Interestingly enough, during that exact same visit to the ashram I came across a mysterious dusty, barefoot young American boy who, like me of all things, had a decoder badge as well. To wit:
"The boy, taking my decoder and along with his, holding one in each hand side by side, seemed suddenly set aback when he recognized the picture in my badge was in fact, clearly, a photo of himself, and, except for his current full set of hair, looking all the same as having been taken only the day before. As disarming as it was for the boy, for me it was beginning to be just another event in a long string of events. The boy, seemingly intrigued and perplexed that my badge would have a picture of him in it, waffled when I told him I was sure it would be Captain Midnight's intention for my photo badge to be his and that we should trade. I could tell that he, in a young boy's own way, was considering my suggestion as having some merit, but in the end he was steadfast in not wanting to trade HIS decoder for mine or anything else for that matter, especially since his had more of a brand new sheen about it while mine seemed somewhat dull and worn. For some reason bigger than me, I was being compelled, almost driven, to persuade him to do otherwise. After a short discussion and with his permission, I carefully removed the photo out of the decoder I had and put it in the boy's, then put the picture of Captain Midnight into mine. With that, all excited and seemingly pleased with the results, he ran off across the compound as if to show somebody."(see)
The analogy, as the reader of my works seems to imply, is a similar connection between the page entry in the diary of the past that will be mentioned below by Superboy's oft time girlfriend, or at least female protagonist, Lana Lang and the photograph 'time-wise' of the real life young boy from the past to the future and return to the present, as the case may be, from the quote above as found in The Code Maker, The Zen Maker.
So, on to the story. For those of you who may not be familiar with Kryptonite, or need a slight refresher, Kryptonite, usually in the form of rocks, as the story line goes, are meteorites that have fallen to Earth from Superman's long gone and exploded home planet of Krypton. It comes in at least two types, the 'regular' type which is green and a more potent type which is red. For Superman, Kryptonite is his Achilles heel and since either type could in effect yield a death blow he goes to almost any extreme to avoid either. However, in his youth, as Superboy (issue #103 March 1963), he goes out of his way to find Red Kryptonite, traveling thousands of years into the past on an extended journey through time. The following excerpt, a condensed version of the original story brought to my attention by the aforementioned reader of my works, is from a very well done and informative web site called The Confessions of a Superman Fan, more specifically part three of a three part segment titled The Three Ages of Superboy with the third part presented here sub-titled The Wild West of Jesse James. The over-arcing story has the Earth being hit by Red Kryptonite with the following results:
In his search Superboy heads into the Time stream and after having gone to two earlier time periods for the other two meteorites, arrives in the state of Missouri in 1876 for the third. Just as he arrives he sees a group of bandits attempting to leap onto a passing train, and thwarts them by speeding the train up, leaving the bandits to land not on the train but on the tracks behind it.
Spotting a horse and wagon on the tracks ahead, Superboy races to save it and finds the driver is a dead-ringer for Lana Lang's father. What's more he has a cute red-head daughter who looks exactly like you-know-who. "Doc Langdon" is a snake-oil salesman and traveling performer who invites Superboy to join them as their resident acrobat, and he agrees, if only to pass the time until the Red-K turns up.
The James gang sees Superboy performing acrobatics and takes a couple shots at him, but he catches the bullets in his mouth. Looking for a way to kill this super kid, Jesse chats up Doc Langdon and learns Superboy's afraid of "some queer red shining stone he thinks fell near here." The gang tracks down the Red-K and makes bullets from it.
Meanwhile, Lana's lookalike Laura Langdon tells Superboy she's writing about him in her diary, and just then, the sheriff asks him what his real name is ("not your stage name"). Superboy figures there's no harm in admitting his name is Clark Kent. Laura writes it down.
Later, Superboy is ambushed by the James gang. When he tries to give them the slip, Jesse shoots him with Red-K bullets, prompting a strange transformation, even by Red-K standards, changing him into a second Jesse James.
Feeling his powers fading fast, Superboy/Jesse ties up the real Jesse, then digs an underground tunnel and tells "his" gang the tunnel will take them into the bank. Instead, they find it leads into the jail; they've been double-crossed. The real Jesse escapes Superboy/Jesse's bonds, which is too bad as a posse has just shown up, ready to hang "Jesse James" from the nearest tree,and they're not too particular about which "Jesse James" they hang.
As luck would have it, Superboy's dog Krypto who followed Superboy back in time, shows up. Even more fortunately, his "instinct" tells him that what looks like Jesse James is really his master Superboy. On a hunch, Superboy exposes Krypto to the Red-K.
Once they regain their normal forms, Superboy and Krypto return to the Smallville of their own time. Clark is shocked to see what looks like Laura Langdon walking toward him, but it turns out to be Lana Lang, wearing the dress of her great-grandmother, who was indeed Laura Langdon (which means at least one of the "lookalikes" in this story makes sort-of sense). The bad news is she's also found Laura's diary, and is about to read the entry where she mentions Superboy's real name is Clark Kent.
Thinking fast, Clark blows the page out of the book with super-breath and Krypto, pretending to be chasing a cat, snatches the page as he zips by.
THE JAMES GANG ROBBED A MISSOURI PACIFIC TRAIN IN 1876
The time travel experienced by the fictional Superboy is fairly straight forward after his arrival in the past. The journal containing Clark Kent's name implicating him as being one and the same as Superboy was done in 1876 by a person in and of 1876, with the journal ending up in the present through a regular linear progression from the past to the present. In The Code Maker, The Zen Maker a whole different set of circumstances present itself, said by some to parallel or duplicate a time travel paradox known as The Bootstrap Paradox, as well as involving a non-fictional person from real life.
THE BOOTSTRAP PARADOX:
The Bootstrap Paradox is named after a 1940s science fiction story wherein the main character goes into the future and meets his future self as an old man. His old-man-future-self gives him a book he takes back into the past. He then grows into an old man and is visited by his younger self and the old man gives his younger self the same book he was given by his older self previously. In The Code Maker, The Zen Maker a young boy has a Captain Midnight Photo-Matic decoder with a picture of Captain Midnight in it.
He meets a man with the same type decoder except the man's has a picture of himself as a young boy. The man and the boy switch pictures in the decoders. The boy goes home eventually growing up. One day as an adult he has his Photo-Matic decoder with him, still having the picture of the young boy in it. He meets a young boy with a Photo-Matic with a picture of Captain Midnight and they switch pictures. The boy goes home eventually growing up, ad nauseam, ad nauseam. Unlike the Superboy story wherein there is a straight-line progression in the time stream, and, although there is no claim as to time-travel on a formal basis in The Code Maker, The Zen Maker, all of it being Siddhi based, the photo of the young boy is itself, seemingly locked uncreated, appearing over-and-over with no originating point or source for having come into the time-stream from the outside. For more on the above story as well as the Bootstrap Paradox see:
TIME TRAVEL: MEETING YOURSELF
AN ANALOGY IN TIME AND PLACE IN REAL LIFE:
At the very top of the page is a two-panel cartoon from a Superboy comic book showing Superboy having gone back it time ending up in Clark Kent's room with Clark at age 10. In the first of the two panels Superboy is depicted with a cartoon thought balloon above his head showing he is thinking: "There's something about time traveling I just don't understand!" Clearly similar thoughts could go for any number of people, especially if you take into consideration the sentence below that shows up in context further down from a real life scenario:
"There had to be in existence two of me at the same time, albeit occupying separate spaces. One of me quite possibly knowing my mother died, the other still having a mother alive."
In reference to the above sentence, the Wanderling writes:
I was taken to India by foster parents during the declining health of my mother but before her death, putting me as a young boy arriving at the ashram of the venerated Indian sage the Bhagavan Sri Ramana Maharshi in south India sometime in early January 1944, staying to sometime after April of 1944. By all indications, as brought forth in the Raft Drift story as found in the sinking of the British motor vessel M.V. Tulagi, I returned to the U.S. onboard a ship in the Indian Ocean sometime toward the end of May, 1944 and most likely back in the states sometime in June, 1944.
The June, 1944 date is fairly solid assumption in that I was on my way to California as a passenger on the Santa Fe Chief being pulled by a powerful Baldwin built 4-8-4 Northern bearing the Santa Fe ID #3774, with the route going right through the state of Missouri in much of the same area Jesse James was robbing trains some 50 years earlier --- and possibly even in the same location as the fictional Superboy story was said to be taking place.
ALL FIRST CLASS SANTA FE CHIEF IN THE DESERT SOUTHWEST CIRCA MID-1940'S
However, on my trip to California as a young boy it wasn't a train robbery, real or imagined, that impacted my life, but a train wreck. After passing through Missouri the 4-8-4 Northern with huge 80 inch drive wheels, clocking out at over 90 miles per hour outside Williams, Arizona hit a marked 55 mph speed limit curve with the locomotive derailing in the middle of the night of July 3, 1944. The locomotive came off the tracks sliding on it's side for nearly the length of two football fields before coming to a stop, the ensuing wreckage killing the fireman and three passengers as well as injuring 113 passengers along with 13 train employees. During the scope of those events, as well as leading up to them, the following unfolded as found in the quote below:
"(U)nknown to me, my mother was no longer at home, having become totally unable to care for herself, so much so my dad placed her into a full care sanatorium-like hospital in Santa Barbara, California on an around the clock basis. Before my dad had a chance to respond to the couple, the couple, knowing full well that my mother was in a sanatorium, without my father's grace, took me to India, simply sending him a note saying that in the end I had changed my mind about going. While I was gone my mother died. I missed the funeral and by the time I got back my family had disintegrated, my two brothers and myself all going separate ways, my dad disappearing into the countryside heavy into alcohol."
SRI RAMANA MAHARSHI: The Last American Darshan
The above quote is from the source so cited. It cuts to the quick about my mother, the foster couple, me going to India, etc. It also brings to light the fact that while I was gone my mother died and I missed the funeral. It happened that way because of me being taken to India late in the year 1943 and not returning to the states until June of 1944, meaning by inference according to the quote, that it was during that six month time frame that my mother died. Taken to the extreme then, by inference it would also mean that my mother was alive at least right up to my departure and possibly sometime shortly after. So too, most likely right up to my departure I was in the U.S. on U.S. soil because as I have stated elsewhere I went to Santa Barbara with both of my real parents sometime in 1943.
Because of the wreck and with no adult to oversee me my uncle who lived in Santa Fe and the closest relative to my location was contacted. While waiting for him to show up, which took a day or two longer than expected, he called a close-by tribal spiritual elder to fill in for him until he was able to get to the depot. It is fair to say the spiritual elder sitting around inside of a train station all day long between the occasional train wasn't exactly what I would call his particular forte'. At the end of the second day, the spiritual elder seemed to have had enough and decided he needed more open space around him. Just after sundown of the second full day basically just hanging around inside a stuffy train station or sitting on boxes in the shade along the wall of the loading dock, without any real discussion between us, we started walking eastward along the railroad tracks for some distance then turned south into the desert ending up camping overnight along a meandering strip of water called the Rio Felix.
The question is, if I was with my parents or even the foster couple how is it during the same 1943 period I was able to hole up for the night along the Rio Felix in New Mexico with the spiritual elder waiting for my uncle to show up? There had to be in existence two of me at the same time, albeit occupying separate spaces. One of me quite possibly knowing my mother died, the other still having a mother alive. Truth be told however, when I was traveling with the spiritual elder I had no clue it was not, not 1944. It was only years later that I discovered the incident along the Rio Felix that involved escaped World War II German POWs was in 1943. Again:
"There had to be in existence two of me at the same time, albeit occupying separate spaces. One of me quite possibly knowing my mother died, the other still having a mother alive."(see)
THE SPIRITUAL ELDER AND THE SANTA FE CHIEF
H.G. WELLS: THE TIME MACHINE
FOR ANY OR ALL OF THE THREE VERSIONS SHOWN BELOW PLEASE CLICK IMAGES
OF COBRAS, SCARABS, MASERATIS, AND ZEN
COWBOY CODE OF THE WEST
THE MOBIUS STRIP
Fundamentally, our experience as experienced is not different from the Zen master's. Where
we differ is that we place a fog, a particular kind of conceptual overlay onto that experience
and then make an emotional investment in that overlay, taking it to be "real" in and of itself.
ON THE RAZOR'S
As to the subject of donations, for those of you who may be interested in doing so as it applies to the gratefulness of my works, I invariably suggest any funds be directed toward THE WOUNDED WARRIOR PROJECT and/or THE AMERICAN RED CROSS.
After leaving the young boy at the ashram I began wending my way through the streets of Tiruvannamalai hoping to locate the house of the man who assisted me getting to the ashram in the first place, in order to retrieve my boots and stuff that had been left in the sun to dry on the roof of the house next to his. In the heat of the day I stopped at the stand of a street vendor looking at the cool drinks he had to offer when a well dressed anglo man in a suit stepped up beside me looking at my bare feet and asking if I was British. I told him no, I was an American. After a smart quip saying, "Yanks!," he said I shouldn't really be drinking or eating anything from a street vendor. I told him it didn't matter much in that I didn't have any money anyway. After a quick explanation of my plight he motioned for me to follow him ending up with just me sitting at a two-place table along the railing of a raised head-high shaded veranda of a very nice establishment overlooking the street. Rather than sit he remained standing and motioned the server over telling him to bring me a nice, big cold drink and anything else I wanted. Then he placed several bills of an undisclosed amount on a plate sitting on the table, gave me a head nod, turned and went down the stairs into the crowd. That was the last I saw of him.
When I finished my drink and a filling meal the server picked up the money the man left on the plate, returning with change. Leaving some on the table I put the rest in my pocket and of which one was a brand new shiny 1943 1/4 rupee coin.
After finally locating the house and finding no one home but getting an OK from the next door neighbors to retrieve my stuff off their roof, I then sat on the bottom of the stairs leading to the upper house from the central courtyard, drinking masala chai offered me by the neighbor. Unbeknownst to anyone, using a small knife given me by the neighbors to spread or cut a hard little jam biscuit that came along with the tea I scraped a small slot-like notch between the tiles and blocks of a planter-like wall leading away from the stairs, then wedged the 1943 1/4 rupee coin I had with me into the slot, smearing the opening over the best I could with the scrapings.
I got the idea from something my father told me onetime. He said when he was a young man bumming around the country in the 1920s he went to the observation deck of what has come to be known as the LeVeque Tower in Columbus, Ohio. There he took a brand new penny with the year on it he was there and wedged it between a small slot. He always swore he would go back and see it was still there, but he never did.
Many, many years later, when I went back to the ashram for what would be my third visit, I sought out the man who assisted me. His son, who appeared to be around 50 years of age, was then living in the house with his family, his father having passed away some years before. The son told me he remembered when he was about ten years old a white man had stayed at his house and did have, after I explained to him what I was talking about, a decoder badge. I asked if would be OK for me to search for a coin I thought was wedged between the tiles of the wall. Although not totally understanding, he saw no problem with it. After a few minutes I was able to pull out the 1943 1/4 rupee coin looking all the same and as shiny and new as the day I wedged it between the tiles years before. Handing him the coin I thanked him and left.
THE CODE MAKER, THE ZEN MAKER
SHANGRI-LA, SHAMBHALA, GYANGANJ, BUDDHISM AND ZEN
It should be mentioned that Superboy-come-Superman is not the only one that can be affected by rocks from space. When I was barely into my twenties I went on a months long extended road trip deep into Mexico with a buddy, eventually ending up in the Yucatan visiting a number of pre-Columbian archaeologist sites along the way, including Chichen Itza. One of the sites we drove to was called Mayapan, said to be the last of the ancient Mayan capitals. That's when something odd happened. My buddy and I had ended somewhat south of Mayapan and had to turn north to get there. Two or three miles outside and south of Mayapan I was overcome by an all engulfing, continuous series of clear-to-my-bones cold chills rippling across my body, the abeyance of which really did not subside as much as they slowly melded into mild convulsions similar to dry-heaves then fading into a general lasting malaise all the time I was there.
Thirty-plus years passed without ever experiencing anything remotely close to what happened that day on the road into Mayapan. Then, on one of my travels through Europe many years later, I stopped at the World War II Nazi death camp of Mauthausen. I had been to Europe several times, but I had never gone to such a place before. When I crossed onto the grounds of the camp proper, for the second time in my life, I was overcome, although not nearly as intense, with the same type chills and bodily sensations as I had experienced in the Yucatan.
Just before driving into Mayapan, unknown to either my buddy or me we crossed over the then unknown outer ring marking the edge of the 112 mile in diameter Chicxulub impact structure created by a giant extinction-level asteroid 65 million years before. The results from that asteroid impact has been credited with killing off entire species, including the dinosaurs and millions of other living creatures both great and small. When I crossed over the outer ring I unknowingly entered a zone of death. See:
THE MAYAN SHAMAN AND CHICXULUB
THE WANDERLING AND HIS UNCLE
Their Life and Times Together
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