Murder & Mystery: Games, Fiction & Non-Fiction

Is This Story About a Nazi Treasure an Alternate Reality Game or... Reality?

2015-03-28T15:47:00.001+00:00

The True Treasure Hunt

of Ysabella Hannah Geertruida Pastora:

4 Ebooks Leading to the Nazi Gold

and The Tears of the Wolf.

Coming Soon: The Hammer of Thor.

Read all about it here:

http://www.rauna.eu/p/the-hammer-of-thor.html

And here: $25,000 Reward for Nazi Treasure

Indeed, there is still a 25,000 $ reward waiting for the person who manages to crack the Code of the Nazi Treasure. This is what the (Dutch) publisher of Karl Hammer's book The Hunt for the Nazi Gold still is communicating: Nazi-code remains unbroken; reward raised to 25,000 dollar.

Ysa Pastora says: "As far as I know -although I might have missed something, I spend time abroad, with some regularity- a refutation is nowhere to be found. The rules have been removed though, or have at least been made impossible to retrieve. As a consequence, I, Ysabella Hannah Geertruida Pastora, solemnly demand that Karl Hammer and Publishing House Elmar make the rules public again. It so happens that I have broken the code and that in due time I will be the owner of what has come to be known as the 'nazi treasure'. However, as long as mister Hammer and/or his publisher do not create any clarity concerning the promised reward, and the conditions tied to it, I cannot possibly reveal the information I dispose of. Let it be known however, that I'm not after the gold or the diamonds of Hitler, and not after the 25,000 $ either. Just like mister Hammer I don't care one whit for any filthy lucre, I just want to see my story published, and if at all possible, made into a movie. The reward I would like to donate to the first person or persons who will manage to locate the Nazi treasure, based on my directions."

A treasure hunter named Cyril Whistler didn't really succeed in locating the treasure, but turned his search into a book and a rockopera. And how does this Postcard Code fit into the story?

Historical Murder Mystery 004: Who was murdered by this woman? What is her name? And who painted her?

2013-11-24T15:47:00.002+00:00

Historical Murder Mystery 003: What was the name of the captain who got nearly killed in this incident?

2013-11-15T15:30:00.000+00:00

Historical Murder Mystery 002: An impeccable existence as a married woman... in a cesspool of lust, licence and murder?

2013-11-09T19:49:00.000+00:00

Historical Murder Mystery 001: "My beauty, as vague and intangible as a lily, haunted him even in his cell. Who am I?"

2013-11-02T18:40:00.001+00:00

Solution here!

Google Poetry SomeeCards: There Will Be Blood

2013-11-02T08:39:00.000+00:00

The Special Smashwords Summer/Winter Sale Promotion Catalog: ebooks 50% off!

2013-07-05T19:57:00.002+01:00

At one minute past midnight Pacific time on July 1, the Special Smashwords Summer/Winter Sale Promotion Catalog went live on the Smashwords home page. Readers can browse the catalog now and search by coupon code levels and categories. At the stroke of midnight Pacific time on July 31, the catalog will disappear...

The coupon codes only work at Smashwords, not at retailers served by Smashwords, during our site-wide promotion!

So...

Use the code SSW50 at checkout for 50% off:

The Fortune of the Bourbons

By Patrick Bernauw
Words: 3,395 (approximate)
Language: English
ISBN: 9781301830909
A visitor to the old Abbey of Orval (Belgium) discovers a corpse in the ruins. Paul Shoeman was the producer of the semi-historical documentary serial Mysterious Belgium. He was working on an episode titled ‘Nostradamus in Orval’, about the so-called prophecies of Nostradamus which are in fact containing a code to find the lost ‘fortune of the Bourbons’. Can you solve this murder mystery?

Price: $2.99 USD

The Angel of Mons

By Patrick Bernauw
Language: English
ISBN: 9781301552559
A city game or walk in Mons, Belgium - with some of the greatest mysteries of the First World War. From the Angels to the Hell Hound of Mons: a World War One Experiment with Black Propaganda - or what we would call now: "PSYOPS!" The game can be played at home, with this ebook, or in the city of Mons... But above all, this "The Angel of Mons" is also a tall tale, an urban legend, a true story!

Price: $2.99 USD

How To Produce Your Own Halloween Murder Mystery Party

By Patrick Bernauw
Words: 3,645 (approximate)
Language: English
ISBN: 9781301789894
Using the Halloween Murder Mystery Script “Michael’s Message”, you can organize all by yourself a Murder Mystery as a Halloween Party Game, Dinner Party Game, Murder Weekend, etcetera. And you can play it with 10 to 30 participants... or even more!

Price: $2.99 USD

Making Sense of Shakespeare (ebooks with free previews)

2013-04-02T19:18:00.000+01:00

Making Sense of Julius Caesar! A Students Guide to Shakespeare's Play (Includes Study Guide, Biography, and Modern Retelling) by BookCaps . $4.99 from Smashwords.com
How can you appreciate Shakespeare when you have no idea what he’s saying?! If you’ve ever sat down with the Bard and found yourself scratching your head at words like Quondam, Younker, or Ebon then this bundled book is just for you! Inside you will find a comprehensive study guide, a biography about the life and times of Shakespeare, and a modern retelling (along with the original text) of Shak
Making Sense of Henry VIII! A Students Guide to Shakespeare's Play (Includes Study Guide, Biography, and Modern Retelling) by BookCaps . $4.99 from Smashwords.com
How can you appreciate Shakespeare when you have no idea what he’s saying?! If you’ve ever sat down with the Bard and found yourself scratching your head at words like Quondam, Younker, or Ebon then this bundled book is just for you! Inside you will find a comprehensive study guide, a biography about the life and times of Shakespeare, and a modern retelling (along with the original text) of Shak
Making Sense of Hamlet! A Students Guide to Shakespeare's Play (Includes Study Guide, Biography, and Modern Retelling) by BookCaps . $4.99 from Smashwords.com
How can you appreciate Shakespeare when you have no idea what he’s saying?! If you’ve ever sat down with the Bard and found yourself scratching your head at words like Quondam, Younker, or Ebon then this bundled book is just for you! Inside you will find a comprehensive study guide, a biography about the life and times of Shakespeare, and a modern retelling (along with the original text) of Shak

Credence Foundation, a science fiction thriller by Marco Guarda (ebook with free preview)

2013-04-02T19:12:00.001+01:00

Credence Foundation by Marco Guarda. $2.99 from Smashwords.com
A detective tasked with investigating the seemingly impossible murder of an influential scientist finds a clue that leads him to Credence, a future corporation which uses mass beliefs to make things happen, mainly space travels.

Rogue Games: Colonial Gothic / Roleplaying ebooks

2013-04-01T16:00:00.000+01:00

Founded in 2007, Rogue Games motto is simple: Games so good they sneak up on you.

The Rogue’s Rules:
Rule 1: Have fun!
Rule 2: The setting defines the rules, the rules do not define the setting.
What’s this all about?
Games.
That is what it is all about.

For as long as he can remember Richard Iorio II has enjoyed not only playing, but designing games. Rogue Games is where he designs and produces games.

Look here for the...

Books!

Colonial Gothic: The Landlord's Daughter
The Landlord’s Daughter is an adventure designed for 4-6 players with Average or Experienced Heroes. This tale of mystery, secret societies, pirates, betrayal, and witchcraft is set in the towns of Marblehead and Lynn in Esex County, Massachusetts, and takes place in 1777, shortly after the Battle of Princeton.

Colonial Gothic: The Defeated Dead
Price: $0.99 USD. 23710 words. Published on April 11, 2010. Nonfiction.
Set in the Northwestern Territories, The Defeated Dead is a new adventure designed for Colonial Gothic. Included are details of the Ohio Territories, as well as some of the most important forts located there.

Colonial Gothic: Elizabethtown
Now ready for your Colonial Gothic games, Colonial Gothic: Elizabethtown is a full colonial community ready for play. Mysteries, random events, new monsters, and more is detailed in a PDF written for both the player and Gamemaster. Uncover the plots of the Freemasons. Face the Boo Hag. Explore a region at the brink of conflict. Colonial Gothic: Elizabethtown is ready for you.

Colonial Gothic: Witchcraft
Colonial Gothic: Witchcraft is your guide to this threat. With new rules, and expanded background, this sourcebook is ready for you to add dark threats and vile creations in your games.

Colonial Gothic: Templates
Who are you? Find here, gentle reader, a collection of character concepts for both players and Gamemasters. Written by Graeme Davis, these character templates have been designed to make Hero creation quicker and easier. They supplement the backgrounds given in the core rulebook by adding more detail according to a more specific character concept.

Colonial Gothic: Gazetteer
Written by Graeme Davis, this book is your guide to the Thirteen Colonies. Filled with maps, adventure hooks, and other information, this book picks up were Colonial Gothic Revised left off, and begins exploring the world of Colonial Gothic.

Colonial Gothic: The Ross-Allen Letters
Something is afoot. Lurking between these two covers are a collection of correspondences of the most disturbing of nature. What is this mystery, and what ramifications does the discovery of it hold?

Colonial Gothic: Rulebook
Newly revised and expanded, this edition of Colonial Gothic builds upon what has come before and also presents new options and guidelines for running a supernatural historical horror roleplaying game set during the dawn of the American Revolution. Colonial Gothic is a supernatural historical horror roleplaying game set during the dawn of the American Revolution.

Memoirs of Lord Halloween

2012-10-31T19:24:00.003+00:00

Dark Poetry & Music

Authors: Patrick & Fernand Bernauw Length: 26 minutes

When a Hip-Hop Poet Meets a Black Widow...

Desiree D. was found in a derelict building nearby the Devil's Castle in the old city of Ghent (Flanders, Belgium) together with the decapitated body of the dark & doomed "hip-hop" poet, also known as Lord Halloween. Miss D. handed over to the police a map, titled Memoirs of Lord Halloween and containing various poems. Miss D. said the motive for the ritual murder was to be found in the Memoirs. She resides now in a closed psychiatric facility. The head of Lord Halloween is still missing.

Monologue and soundtracks may be used in its entirety, in adaptation or in any other way for theatrical productions, only with permission from Patrick & Fernand Bernauw (info@inter-actief.be). Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that this play is subject to a royalty fee (11% on the total revenues). "Memoirs of Lord Halloween" is fully protected under the copyright laws of all countries covered by the Berne Convention for the Protection of Literary and Artistic Work. All rights, including professional/amateur stage rights, motion, picture, recitation, lecturing, public reading and all other forms of mechanical or electronic reproduction, and the rights of translation into foreign languages, are strictly reserved.

Full Monologue & Soundtrack: http://www.xinxii.com/en/memoirs-of-lord-halloween-p-338910.html

Preview: http://thelostdutchman.hubpages.com/video/Lord-Halloweens-HipHop
Full monologue: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/250015
Free Download: http://soundcloud.com/scriptomanen/memoirs-of-lord-halloween

Memoirs of Lord Halloween Met Fotos

A Great War City & Mystery Game About the Angels of Mons: The Mystery of Mons

2012-10-11T18:53:00.002+01:00

The Mystery of Mons

A City Trip With a Mystery Game in Mons, Belgium

Authors: Patrick Bernauw & Marc Borms
Length: 44 pages

From the Angels to the Hell Hound of Mons... A Great War Experience!

A mystery game in the city of Mons, Belgium. From the Angels to the Hell Hound of Mons: a World War One Experiment with Black Propaganda… Or what we would call now: PSYOPS!

August 1974. Richard Evans was found dead in a city park of Mons, Belgium. In his hands: a Polaroid, showing a strange hippie girl… and then, in a secret compartment in the house of the late Richard Evans, his grandson discovered a series of photographs, each one containing an image of the girl in the Polaroid, dated from August 1914 to 1964.

It appears that during the First World War, Richard Evans worked as an agent for the British secret service and probably was involved in experiments with “black propaganda”, which eventually would lead to some of the greatest myths of the Great War…

This mystery game/city game can be played at home or in the city of Mons, Belgium. Pass the test and discover the secrets of the secret agents of the First World War, and maybe you too will become an expert in “psychological operations” (PSYOPS), deception and disinformation!

(Workbook and solutions are in the Table of Contents section.)

About the Author

Patrick Bernauw & Marc Borms
Member since: Oct 2012
Publications on XinXii: 1
My social profiles on...

Patrick Bernauw (scenario) and Marc Borms (photography) are the producers of a "Mysterious Belgium" series city & mystery games.

The Original Programme for the British Premiere of Fritz Lang' Metropolis (1927)

2012-09-29T19:38:00.000+01:00

Original programme for the British premiere of Fritz Lang’s Metropolis in 1927

The War of the Worlds (Orson Welles) - Full Script of the 1938 Radio Play

2012-09-27T15:26:00.000+01:00

The War of the Worlds was performed as a Halloween episode of a American radio drama series, broadcasted live on October 30, 1938. Much listeners were misled by the realism of the "news bulletins", and the atmosphere of political tension and anxiety of those days. In no time, people were fleeing their homes, or calling CBS and the police. They didn't hear Orson Welles telling them it was a just a Halloween Hoax.

Read all about it in:

Greatest Halloween Hoax Ever

(With a Full Comic/Video Adaptation of the Radio Drama!)

See "Greatest Halloween Hoax Ever"

for Part 1 to 6 of the Comic/Video Adaptation

The War of the Worlds

COLUMBIA BROADCASTING SYSTEM
ORSON WELLES AND MERCURY THEATRE ON THE AIR
SUNDAY, OCTOBER 30, 1938
8:00 TO 9:00 P.M.

ANNOUNCER: The Columbia Broadcasting System and its affiliated stations present Orson Welles and the Mercury Theatre on the Air in The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells.

(MUSIC: MERCURY THEATRE MUSICAL THEME)

ANNOUNCER: Ladies and gentlemen: the director of the Mercury Theatre and star of these broadcasts, Orson Welles . . .

ORSON WELLES: We know now that in the early years of the twentieth century this world was being watched closely by intelligences greater than man's and yet as mortal as his own. We know now that as human beings busied themselves about their various concerns they were scrutinized and studied, perhaps almost as narrowly as a man with a microscope might scrutinize the transient creatures that swarm and multiply in a drop of water. With infinite complacence people went to and fro over the earth about their little affairs, serene in the assurance of their dominion over this small spinning fragment of solar driftwood which by chance or design man has inherited out of the dark mystery of Time and Space. Yet across an immense ethereal gulf, minds that to our minds as ours are to the beasts in the jungle, intellects vast, cool and unsympathetic, regarded this earth with envious eyes and slowly and surely drew their plans against us. In the thirty-ninth year of the twentieth century came the great disillusionment.
It was near the end of October. Business was better. The war scare was over. More men were back at work. Sales were picking up. On this particular evening, October 30, the Crosley service estimated that thirty-two million people were listening in on radios.

ANNOUNCER: . . .for the next twenty-four hours not much change in temperature. A slight atmospheric disturbance of undetermined origin is reported over Nova Scotia, causing a low pressure area to move down rather rapidly over the northeastern states, bringing a forecast of rain, accompanied by winds of light gale force. Maximum temperature 66; minimum 48. This weather report comes to you from the Government Weather Bureau. . . . We now take you to the Meridian Room in the Hotel Park Plaza in downtown New York, where you will be entertained by the music of Ramón Raquello and his orchestra.

(MUSIC: SPANISH THEME SONG [A TANGO] . . . FADES)

ANNOUNCER THREE: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. From the Meridian Room in the Park Plaza in New York City, we bring you the music of Ramón Raquello and his orchestra. With a touch of the Spanish. Ramón Raquello leads off with "La Cumparsita."

(PIECE STARTS PLAYING)

ANNOUNCER TWO: Ladies and gentlemen, we interrupt our program of dance music to bring you a special bulletin from the Intercontinental Radio News. At twenty minutes before eight, central time, Professor Farrell of the Mount Jennings Observatory, Chicago, Illinois, reports observing several explosions of incandescent gas, occurring at regular intervals on the planet Mars. The spectroscope indicates the gas to be hydrogen and moving towards the earth with enormous velocity. Professor Pierson of the Observatory at Princeton confirms Farrell's observation, and describes the phenomenon as (quote) like a jet of blue flame shot from a gun (unquote). We now return you to the music of Ramón Raquello, playing for you in the Meridian Room of the Park Plaza Hotel, situated in downtown New York.

(MUSIC PLAYS FOR A FEW MOMENTS UNTIL PIECE ENDS . . . SOUND OF APPLAUSE)

ANNOUNCER THREE: Now a tune that never loses favor, the ever-popular "Star Dust." Ramón Raquello and his orchestra . . .

(MUSIC)

ANNOUNCER TWO: Ladies and gentlemen, following on the news given in our bulletin a moment ago, the Government Meteorological Bureau has requested the large observatories of the country to keep an astronomical watch on any further disturbances occurring on the planet Mars. Due to the unusual nature of this occurrence, we have arranged an interview with noted astronomer. Professor Pierson, who will give us his views on the event. in a few moments we will take you to the Princeton Observatory at Princeton, New Jersey. We return you until then to the music of Ramón Raquello and his orchestra.

(MUSIC . . .)

ANNOUNCER TWO: We are now ready to take you to the Princeton Observatory at Princeton where Carl Phillips, or commentator, will interview Professor Richard Pierson, famous astronomer. We take you now to Princeton, New Jersey.

(ECHO CHAMBER)

PHILLIPS: Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. This is Carl Phillips, speaking to you from the observatory at Princeton. I am standing in a large semi-circular room, pitch black except for an oblong split in the ceiling. Through this opening I can see a sprinkling of stars that cast a kind of frosty glow over the intricate mechanism of the huge telescope. The ticking sound you hear is the vibration of the clockwork. Professor Pierson stands directly above me on a small platform, peering through a giant lens. I ask you to be patient, ladies and gentlemen, during any delay that may arise during our interview. Besides his ceaseless watch of the heavens, Professor Pierson may be interrupted by telephone or other communications. During this period he is in constant touch with the astronomical centers of the world . . . Professor, may I begin our questions?

PIERSON: At any time, Mr. Phillips.

PHILLIPS:Professor, would you please tell our radio audience exactly what you see as you observe the planet Mars through your telescope?

PIERSON: Nothing unusual at the moment, Mr. Phillips. A red disk swimming in a blue sea. Transverse stripes across the disk. Quite distinct now because Mars happens to be the point nearest the earth . . . in opposition, as we call it.

PHILLIPS: In your opinion, what do these transverse stripes signify, Professor Pierson?

PIERSON: Not canals, I can assure you, Mr. Phillips, although that's the popular conjecture of those who imagine Mars to be inhabited. From a scientific viewpoint the stripes are merely the result of atmospheric conditions peculiar to the planet.

PHILLIPS: Then you're quite convinced as a scientist that living intelligence as we know it does not exist on Mars?

PIERSON: I'd say the chances against it are a thousand to one.

PHILLIPS: And yet how do you account for those gas eruptions occurring on the surface of the planet at regular intervals?

PIERSON: Mr. Phillips, I cannot account for it.

PHILLIPS: By the way, Professor, for the benefit of our listeners, how far is Mars from earth?

PIERSON:Approximately forty million miles.

PHILLIPS: Well, that seems a safe enough distance.

(OFF MIKE) Thank you.

(PAUSE)

PHILLIPS: Just a moment, ladies and gentlemen, someone has just handed Professor Pierson a message. While he reads it, let me remind you that we are speaking to you from the observatory in Princeton, New Jersey, where we are interviewing the world- famous astronomer, Professor Pierson . . . One moment, please. Professor Pierson has passed me a message which he has just received . . . Professor, may I read the message to the listening audience?

PIERSON: Certainly, Mr. Phillips

PHILLIPS: Ladies and gentlemen, I shall read you a wire addressed to Professor Pierson from Dr. Gray of the National History Museum, New York. "9:15 P. M. eastern standard time. Seismograph registered shock of almost earthquake intensity occurring within a radius of twenty miles of Princeton. Please investigate. Signed, Lloyd Gray, Chief of Astronomical Division" . . . Professor Pierson, could this occurrence possibly have something to do with the disturbances observed on the planet Mars?

PIERSON: Hardly, Mr. Phillips. This is probably a meteorite of unusual size and its arrival at this particular time is merely a coincidence. However, we shall conduct a search, as soon as daylight permits.

PHILLIPS: Thank you, Professor. Ladies and gentlemen, for the past ten minutes we've been speaking to you from the observatory at Princeton, bringing you a special interview with Professor Pierson, noted astronomer. This is Carl Phillips speaking. We are returning you now to our New York studio.

(FADE IN PIANO PLAYING)

ANNOUNCER TWO: Ladies and gentlemen, here is the latest bulletin from the Intercontinental Radio News. Toronto, Canada: Professor Morse of McGill University reports observing a total of three explosions on the planet Mars, between the hours of 7:45 P. M. and 9:20 P. M., eastern standard time. This confirms earlier reports received from American observatories. Now, nearer home, comes a special announcement from Trenton, New Jersey. It is reported that at 8:50 P. M. a huge, flaming object, believed to be a meteorite, fell on a farm in the neighborhood of Grovers Mill, New Jersey, twenty-two miles from Trenton.
The flash in the sky was visible within a radius of several hundred miles and the noise of the impact was heard as far north as Elizabeth.
We have dispatched a special mobile unit to the scene, and will have our commentator, Carl Phillips, give you a word description as soon as he can reach there from Princeton. In the meantime, we take you to the Hotel Martinet in Brooklyn, where Bobby Millette and his orchestra are offering a program of dance music.

(SWING BAND FOR TWENTY SECONDS . . . THEN CUT)

ANNOUNCER TWO: We take you now to Grovers Mill, New Jersey.

(CROWD NOISES . . . POLICE SIRENS)

PHILLIPS: Ladies and gentlemen, this is Carl Phillips again, at the Wilmuth farm, Grovers Mill, New Jersey. Professor Pierson and myself made the eleven miles from Princeton in ten minutes. Well, I . . . I hardly know where to begin, to paint for you a word picture of the strange scene before my eyes, like something out of a modern "Arabian Nights." Well, I just got here. I haven't had a chance to look around yet. I guess that's it. Yes, I guess that's the . . . thing, directly in front of me, half buried in a vast pit. Must have struck with terrific force. The ground is covered with splinters of a tree it must have struck on its way down. What I can see of the . . . object itself doesn't look very much like a meteor, at least not the meteors I've seen. It looks more like a huge cylinder. It has a diameter of . . . what would you say, Professor Pierson?

PIERSON (OFF-MIKE): What's that?

PHILLIPS: What would you say . . . what is the diameter?

PIERSON: About thirty yards.

PHILLIPS: About thirty yards . . . The metal on the sheath is . . . well, I've never seen anything like it. The color is sort of yellowish-white. Curious spectators now are pressing close to the object in spite of the efforts of the police to keep them back. They're getting in front of my line of vision. Would you mind standing to one side, please?

POLICEMAN: One side, there, one side.

PHILLIPS: While the policemen are pushing the crowd back, here's Mr. Wilmuth, owner of the farm here. He may have some interesting facts to add . . . Mr. Wilmuth, would you please tell the radio audience as much as you remember of this rather unusual visitor that dropped in your backyard? Step closer, please. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Mr. Wilmuth.

WILMUTH: Well, I was listenin' to the radio.

PHILLIPS: Closer and louder please.

WILMUTH: Pardon me!

PHILLIPS: Louder, please, and closer.

WILMUTH: Yes, sir -- while I was listening to the radio and kinda drowsin', that Professor fellow was talkin' about Mars, so I was half dozin' and half . . .

PHILLIPS: Yes, yes, Mr. Wilmuth. Then what happened?

WILMUTH: As I was sayin', I was listenin' to the radio kinda halfways . . .

PHILLIPS: Yes, Mr. Wilmuth, and then you saw something?

WILMUTH: Not first off. I heard something.

PHILLIPS: And what did you hear?

WILMUTH: A hissing sound. Like this: sssssss . . . kinda like a fourt' of July rocket.

PHILLIPS: Then what?

WILMUTH: Turned my head out the window and would have swore I was to sleep and dreamin.'

PHILLIPS: Yes?

WILMUTH: I seen a kinda greenish streak and then zingo! Somethin' smacked the ground. Knocked me clear out of my chair!

PHILLIPS: Well, were you frightened, Mr. Wilmuth?

WILMUTH: Well, I -- I ain't quite sure. I reckon I -- I was kinda riled.

PHILLIPS: Thank you, Mr. Wilmuth. Thank you.

WILMUTH: Want me to tell you some more?

PHILLIPS: No . . . That's quite all right, that's plenty.

PHILLIPS: Ladies and gentlemen, you've just heard Mr. Wilmuth, owner of the farm where this thing has fallen. I wish I could convey the atmosphere . . . the background of this . . . fantastic scene. Hundreds of cars are parked in a field in back of us. Police are trying to rope off the roadway leading to the farm. But it's no use. They're breaking right through. Cars' headlights throw an enormous spot on the pit where the object's half buried. Some of the more daring souls are now venturing near the edge. Their silhouettes stand out against the metal sheen.

(FAINT HUMMING SOUND)
One man wants to touch the thing . . . he's having an argument with a policeman. The policeman wins. . . . Now, ladies and gentlemen, there's something I haven't mentioned in all this excitement, but now it's becoming more distinct. Perhaps you've caught it already on your radio. Listen:

(LONG PAUSE) . . .

Do you hear it? It's a curious humming sound that seems to come from inside the object. I'll move the microphone nearer. (PAUSE) Now we're not more then twenty-five feet away. Can you hear it now? Oh, Professor Pierson!

PIERSON: Yes, Mr. Phillips?

PHILLIPS: Can you tell us the meaning of that scraping noise inside the thing?

PIERSON: Possibly the unequal cooling of its surface.

PHILLIPS: I see, do you still think it's a meteor, Professor?

PIERSON: I don't know what to think. The metal casing is definitely extraterrestrial . . . not found on this earth. Friction with the earth's atmosphere usually tears holes in a meteorite. This thing is smooth and, as you can see, of cylindrical shape.

PHILLIPS: Just a minute! Something's happening! Ladies and gentlemen, this is terrific! This end of the thing is beginning to flake off! The top is beginning to rotate like a screw! The thing must be hollow!

VOICES: She's movin'! Look, the darn thing's unscrewing! Keep back, there! Keep back, I tell you! Maybe there's men in it trying to escape! It's red hot, they'll burn to a cinder! Keep back there. Keep those idiots back!

(SUDDENLY THE CLANKING SOUND OF A HUGE PIECE OF FALLING METAL)

VOICES: She's off! The top's loose! Look out there! Stand back!

PHILLIPS: Ladies and gentlemen, this is the most terrifying thing I have ever witnessed . . . Wait a minute! Someone's crawling out of the hollow top. Someone or . . . something. I can see peering out of that black hole two luminous disks . . are they eyes? It might be a face. It might be . . .

(SHOUT OF AWE FROM THE CROWD)

PHILLIPS: Good heavens, something's wriggling out of the shadow like a gray snake. Now it's another one, and another. They look like tentacles to me. There, I can see the thing's body. It's large, large as a bear and it glistens like wet leather. But that face, it . . . Ladies and gentlemen, it's indescribable. I can hardly force myself to keep looking at it. The eyes are black and gleam like a serpent. The mouth is V-shaped with saliva dripping from its rimless lips that seem to quiver and pulsate. The monster or whatever it is can hardly move. It seems weighed down by . . . possibly gravity or something. The thing's raising up. The crowd falls back now. They've seen plenty. This is the most extraordinary experience. I can't find words . . . I'll pull this microphone with me as I talk. I'll have to stop the description until I can take a new position. Hold on, will you please, I'll be right back in a minute.

(FADE INTO PIANO)

ANNOUNCER: We are bringing you an eyewitness account of what's happening on the Wilmuth farm, Grovers Mill, New Jersey. (MORE PIANO) We now return you to Carl Phillips at Grovers Mill.

PHILLIPS: Ladies and gentlemen (Am I on?). Ladies and gentlemen, here I am, back of a stone wall that adjoins Mr. Wilmuth's garden. From here I get a sweep of the whole scene. I'll give you every detail as long as I can talk. As long as I can see. More state police have arrived They're drawing up a cordon in front of the pit, about thirty of them. No need to push the crowd back now. They're willing to keep their distance. The captain is conferring with someone. We can't quite see who. Oh yes, I believe it's Professor Pierson. Yes, it is. Now they've parted. The Professor moves around one side, studying the object, while the captain and two policemen advance with something in their hands. I can see it now. It's a white handkerchief tied to a pole . . . a flag of truce. If those creatures know what that means . . . what anything means!. . . Wait! Something's happening!

(HISSING SOUND FOLLOWED BY A HUMMING THAT INCREASES IN INTENSITY)

PHILLIPS: A humped shape is rising out of the pit. I can make out a small beam of light against a mirror. What's that? There's a jet of flame springing from the mirror, and it leaps right at the advancing men. It strikes them head on! Good Lord, they're turning into flame!

(SCREAMS AND UNEARTHLY SHRIEKS)

PHILLIPS: Now the whole field's caught fire. (EXPLOSION) The woods . . . the barns . . . the gas tanks of automobiles . . . it's spreading everywhere. It's coming this way. About twenty yards to my right . . .

(CRASH OF MICROPHONE ... THEN DEAD SILENCE)

ANNOUNCER: Ladies and gentlemen, due to circumstances beyond our control, we are unable to continue the broadcast from Grovers Mill. Evidently there's some difficulty with our field transmission. However, we will return to that point at the earliest opportunity. In the meantime, we have a late bulletin from San Diego, California. Professor Indellkoffer, speaking at a dinner of the California Astronomical Society, expressed the opinion that the explosions on Mars are undoubtedly nothing more than severe volcanic disturbances on the surface of the planet. We now continue with our piano interlude.

(PIANO . . . THEN CUT)

ANNOUNCER TWO: Ladies and gentlemen, I have just been handed a message that came in from Grovers Mill by telephone. Just a moment. At least forty people, including six state troopers lie dead in a field east of the village of Grovers Mill, their bodies burned and distorted beyond all possible recognition. The next voice you hear will be that of Brigadier General Montgomery Smith, commander of the state militia at Trenton, New Jersey.

SMITH: I have been requested by the governor of New Jersey to place the counties of Mercer and Middlesex as far west as Princeton, and east to Jamesburg, under martial law. No one will be permitted to enter this area except by special pass issued by state or military authorities. Four companies of state militia are proceeding from Trenton to Grovers Mill, and will aid in the evacuation of homes within the range of military operations. Thank you.

ANNOUNCER TWO: You have just been listening to General Montgomery Smith commanding the state militia at Trenton. In the meantime, further details of the catastrophe at Grovers Mill are coming in. The strange creatures after unleashing their deadly assault, crawled back into their pit and made no attempt to prevent the efforts of the firemen to recover the bodies and extinguish the fire. Combined fire departments of Mercer County are fighting the flames which menace the entire countryside. We have been unable to establish any contact with our mobile unit at Grovers Mill, but we hope to be able to return you there at the earliest possible moment. In the meantime we take you -- just one moment please.

(LONG PAUSE)
(WHISPER) Ladies and gentlemen, I have just been informed that we have finally established communication with an eyewitness of the tragedy. Professor Pierson has been located at a farmhouse near Grovers Mill where he has established an emergency observation post. As a scientist, he will give you his explanation of the calamity. The next voice you hear will be that of Professor Pierson, brought to you by direct wire. Professor Pierson.

(FEEDBACK. THEN FILTERED VOICE)

PIERSON: Of the creatures in the rocket cylinder at Grovers Mill, I can give you no authoritative information -- either as to their nature, their origin, or their purposes here on earth Of their destructive instrument I might venture some conjectural explanation. For want of a better term, I shall refer to the mysterious weapon as a heat ray. It's all too evident that these creatures have scientific knowledge far in advance of our own. It is my guess that in some way they are able to generate an intense heat in a chamber of practically absolute nonconductivity. This intense heat they project in a parallel beam against any object they choose, by means of a polished parabolic mirror of unknown composition, much as the mirror of a lighthouse projects a beam of light. That is my conjecture of the origin of the heat ray . . .

ANNOUNCER TWO: Thank you, Professor Pierson. Ladies and gentlemen, here is a bulletin from Trenton. It is a brief statement informing us that the charred body of Carl Phillips has been identified in a Trenton hospital. Now here's another bulletin from Washington, D.C. Office of the director of the National Red Cross reports ten units of Red Cross emergency workers have been assigned to the headquarters of the state militia stationed outside Grovers Mill, New Jersey. Here's a bulletin from state police, Princeton Junction: The fires at Grovers Mill and vicinity are now under control. Scouts report all quiet in the pit, and no sign of life appearing from the mouth of the cylinder . . . And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have a special statement from Mr. Harry McDonald, vice- president in charge of operations.

MC DONALD: We have received a request from the militia at Trenton to place at their disposal our entire broadcasting facilities. In view of the gravity of the situation, and believing that radio has a responsibility to serve in the public interest at all times, we are turning over our facilities to the state militia at Trenton.

ANNOUNCER TWO: We take you now to the field headquarters of the state militia near Grovers Mill, New Jersey.

CAPTAIN: This is Captain Lansing of the signal corps, attached to the state militia now engaged in military operations in the vicinity of Grovers Mill. Situation arising from the reported presence of certain individuals of unidentified nature is now under complete control. The cylindrical object which lies in a pit directly below our position is surrounded on all sides by eight battalions of infantry. Without heavy field pieces, but adequately armed with rifles and machine guns. All cause for alarm, if such cause ever existed, is now entirely unjustified. The things, whatever they are, do not even venture to poke their heads above the pit. I can see their hiding place plainly in the glare of the searchlights here. With all their reported resources, these creatures can scarcely stand up against heavy machine-gun fire. Anyway, it's an interesting outing for the troops. I can make out their khaki uniforms, crossing back and forth in front of the lights. It looks almost like a real war. There appears to be some slight smoke in the woods bordering the Millstone River. Probably fire started by campers. Well, we ought to see some action soon. One of the companies is deploying on the left flank. An quick thrust and it will all be over. Now wait a minute! I see something on top of the cylinder. No, it's nothing but a shadow. Now the troops are on the edge of the Wilmuth farm. Seven thousand armed men closing in on an old metal tube. Wait, that wasn't a shadow! It's something moving . . . solid metal . . . kind of shieldlike affair rising up out of the cylinder . . . It's going higher and higher. Why, it's standing on legs . . . actually rearing up on a sort of metal framework. Now it's reaching above the trees and the searchlights are on it. Hold on!

ANNOUNCER: Ladies and gentlemen, I have a grave announcement to make. Incredible as it may seem, both the observations of science and the evidence of our eyes lead to the inescapable assumption that those strange beings who landed in the Jersey farmlands tonight are the vanguard of an invading army from the planet Mars. The battle which took place tonight at Grovers Mill has ended in one of the most startling defeats ever suffered by any army in modern times; seven thousand men armed with rifles and machine guns pitted against a single fighting machine of the invaders from Mars. One hundred and twenty known survivors. The rest strewn over the battle area from Grovers Mill to Plainsboro, crushed and trampled to death under the metal feet of the monster, or burned to cinders by its heat ray. The monster is now in control of the middle section of New Jersey and has effectively cut the state through its center. Communication lines are down from Pennsylvania to the Atlantic Ocean. Railroad tracks are torn and service from New York to Philadelphia discontinued except routing some of the trains through Allentown and Phoenixville. Highways to the north, south, and west are clogged with frantic human traffic. Police and army reserves are unable to control the mad flight. By morning the fugitives will have swelled Philadelphia, Camden, and Trenton, it is estimated, to twice their normal population. At this time martial law prevails throughout New Jersey and eastern Pennsylvania. We take you now to Washington for a special broadcast on the National Emergency . . . the Secretary of the Interior . . .

SECRETARY: Citizens of the nation: I shall not try to conceal the gravity of the situation that confronts the country, nor the concern of your government in protecting the lives and property of its people. However, I wish to impress upon you -- private citizens and public officials, all of you -- the urgent need of calm and resourceful action. Fortunately, this formidable enemy is still confined to a comparatively small area, and we may place our faith in the military forces to keep them there. In the meantime placing our faith in God we must continue the performance of our duties each and every one of us, so that we may confront this destructive adversary with a nation united, courageous, and consecrated to the preservation of human supremacy on this earth. I thank you.

ANNOUNCER: You have just heard the secretary of the Interior speaking from Washington. Bulletins too numerous to read are piling up in the studio here. We are informed the central portion of New Jersey is blacked out from radio communication due to the effect of the heat ray upon power lines and electrical equipment. Here is a special bulletin from New York. Cables received from English, French, German scientific bodies offering assistance. Astronomers report continued gas outbursts at regular intervals on planet Mars. Majority voice opinion that enemy will be reinforced by additional rocket machines. Attempts made to locate Professor Pierson of Princeton, who has observed Martians at close range. It is feared he was lost in recent battle. Langham Field, Virginia: Scouting planes report three Martian machines visible above treetops, moving north towards Somerville with population fleeing ahead of them. Heat ray not in use; although advancing at express-train speed, invaders pick their way carefully. They seem to be making conscious effort to avoid destruction of cities and countryside. However, they stop to uproot power lines, bridges, and railroad tracks. Their apparent objective is to crush resistance, paralyze communication, and disorganize human society.
Here is a bulletin from Basking Ridge, New Jersey: Coon hunters have stumbled on a second cylinder similar to the first embedded in the great swamp twenty miles south of Morristown. Army fieldpieces are proceeding from Newark to blow up second invading unit before cylinder can be opened and the fighting machine rigged. They are taking up position in the -- foothills of Watchung Mountains. Another bulletin from Langham Field, Virginia: Scouting planes report enemy machines, now three in number, increasing speed northward kicking over houses and trees in their evident haste to form a conjunction with their allies south of Morristown. Machines also sighted by telephone operator east of Middlesex within ten miles of Plainfield. Here's a bulletin from Winston Field, Long Island: Fleet of army bombers carrying heavy explosives flying north in pursuit of enemy. Scouting planes act as guides. They keep speeding enemy in sight. Just a moment please. Ladies and gentlemen, we've run special wires to the artillery line in adjacent villages to give you direct reports in the zone of the advancing enemy. First we take you to the battery of the 22nd Field Artillery, located in the Watchtung Mountains.

OFFICER: Range, thirty-two meters.

GUNNER:Thirty-two meters.

OFFICER:Projection, thirty-nine degrees.

GUNNER:Thirty-nine degrees.

OFFICER: Fire! (BOOM OF HEAVY GUN . . . PAUSE)

OBSERVER: One hundred and forty yards to the right, sir.

OFFICER: Shift range . . . thirty-one meters.

GUNNER:Thirty-one meters

OFFICER:Projection . . . thirty-seven degrees.

GUNNER:Thirty-seven degrees.

OFFICER: Fire! (BOOM OF HEAVY GUN . . . PAUSE)

OBSERVER: A hit, sir! We got the tripod of one of them. They've stopped. The others are trying to repair it.

OFFICER: Quick, get the range! Shift thirty meters.

GUNNER: Thirty meters.

OFFICER:Projection . . . twenty-seven degrees.

GUNNER:Twenty-seven degrees.

OFFICER: Fire! (BOOM OF HEAVY GUN . . . PAUSE)

OBSERVER: Can't see the shell land, sir. They're letting off a smoke.

OFFICER: What is it?

OBSERVER: A black smoke, sir. Moving this way. Lying close to the ground. It's moving fast.

OFFICER: Put on gas masks. (PAUSE. VOICES NOW MUFFLED) Get ready to fire. Shift twenty-four meters.

GUNNER:Twenty-four meters.

OFFICER:Projection, twenty-four degrees.

GUNNER:Twenty-four degrees.

OFFICER: Fire! (BOOM)

OBSERVER: Still can't see, sir. The smoke's coming nearer.

OFFICER: Get the range. (COUGHS)

OBSERVER:Twenty-three meters. (COUGHS)

OFFICER:Twenty-three meters. (COUGHS)

GUNNER:Twenty-three meters (COUGHS)

OBSERVER:Projection, twenty-two degrees. (COUGHING)

OFFICER:Twenty-two degrees (FADE-IN COUGHING) (CUT TO SOUND OF AIRPLANE MOTOR)

COMMANDER: Army bombing plane, V-8-43, off Bayonne, New Jersey, Lieutenant Voght, commanding eight bombers. Reporting to Commander Fairfax, Langham Field . . . This is Voght, reporting to Commander Fairfax, Langham Field . . . Enemy tripod machines now in sight. Reinforced by three machines from the Morristown cylinder . . . Six altogether. One machine already crippled. Believed hit by shell from army gun in Watchung Mountains. Guns now appear silent. A heavy black fog hanging close to the earth . . . of extreme density, nature unknown. No sign of heat ray. Enemy now turns east, crossing Passaic River into the Jersey marshes. Another straddles the Pulaski Skyway. Evident objective is New York City. They're pushing down a high tension power station. The machines are close together now, and we're ready to attack. Planes circling, ready to strike. A thousand yards and we'll be over the first -- eight hundred yards . . . six hundred . . . four hundred . . . two hundred . . . There they go! The giant arm raised . . . (SOUND OF HEAT RAY) Green flash! They're spraying us with flame! Two thousand feet. Engines are giving out. No chance to release bombs. Only one thing left . . . drop on them, plane and all. We're diving on the first one. Now the engine's gone! Eight . . . (PLANE GOES DOWN)

OPERATOR ONE: This is Bayonne, New Jersey, calling Langham Field . . . This is Bayonne, New Jersey, calling Langham Field . . . Come in, please . . .

OPERATOR TWO: This is Langham Field . . . Go ahead . . .

OPERATOR ONE: Eight army bombers in engagement with enemy tripod machines over Jersey flats. Engines incapacitated by heat ray. All crashed. One enemy machine destroyed. Enemy now discharging heavy black smoke in direction of --

OPERATOR THREE: This is Newark, New Jersey . . . This is Newark, New Jersey . . . Warning! Poisonous black smoke pouring in from Jersey marshes. Reaches South street. Gas masks useless. Urge population to move into open spaces . . .automobiles use Routes 7, 23, 24 . . . Avoid congested areas. Smoke now spreading over Raymond Boulevard . . .

OPERATOR FOUR: 2X2L . . . calling CQ . . . 2X2L . . . calling CQ . . . 2X2L . . . calling 8X3R . . . Come in, please . . .

OPERATOR FIVE: This is 8X3R . . . coming back at 2X2L.

OPERATOR FOUR: How's reception? How's reception? K, please (PAUSE) Where are you, 8X3R? What's the matter? Where are you?

(BELLS RINGING OVER CITY GRADUALLY DIMINISHING)

ANNOUNCER: I'm speaking from the roof of the Broadcasting Building, New York City. The bells you hear are ringing to warn the people to evacuate the city as the Martians approach. Estimated in last two hours three million people have moved out along the roads to the north, Hutchison River Parkway still kept open for motor traffic. Avoid bridges to Long Island . . . hopelessly jammed. All communication with Jersey shore closed ten minutes ago. No more defenses. Our army wiped out . . . artillery, air force, everything wiped out. This may be the last broadcast. We'll stay here to the end . . . People are holding service below us . . . in the cathedral.

(VOICES SINGING HYMN)
Now I look down the harbor. All manner of boats, overloaded with fleeing population, pulling out from docks.

(SOUND OF BOAT WHISTLES)
Streets are all jammed. Noise in crowds like New Year's Eve in city. Wait a minute . . . Enemy now in sight above the Palisades. Five -- five great machines. First one is crossing river. I can see it from here, wading the Hudson like a man wading through a brook . . . A bulletin's handed me . . . Martian cylinders are falling all over the country. One outside Buffalo, one in Chicago, St. Louis . . . seem to be timed and spaced . . . Now the first machine reaches the shore. He stands watching, looking over the city. His steel, cowlish head is even with the skyscrapers. He waits for the others. They rise like a line of new towers on the city's west side . . . Now they're lifting their metal hands. This is the end now. Smoke comes out . . . black smoke, drifting over the city. People in the streets see it now. They're running towards the East River . . . thousands of them, dropping in like rats. Now the smoke's spreading faster. It's reached Times Square. People trying to run away from it, but it's no use. They're falling like flies. Now the smoke's crossing Sixth Avenue . . . Fifth Avenue . . . one hundred yards away . . . it's fifty feet . . .

(BODY FALLS)

OPERATOR FOUR: 2X2L calling CQ . . . 2X2L calling CQ . . . 2X2L calling CQ . . . New York. Isn't there anyone on the air? Isn't there anyone on the air? Isn't there anyone . . . 2X2L --

ANNOUNCER: You are listening to a CBS presentation of Orson Welles and the Mercury Theatre on the Air in an original dramatization of The War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells. The performance will continue after a brief intermission. This is the Columbia . . . Broadcasting System.

MUSIC

PIERSON: As I set down these notes on paper, I'm obsessed by the thought that I may be the last living man on earth. I have been hiding in this empty house near Grovers Mill -- a small island of daylight cut off by the black smoke from the rest of the world. All that happened before the arrival of these monstrous creatures in the world now seems part of another life. . . a life that has no continuity with the present, furtive existence of the lonely derelict who pencils these words on the back of some astronomical notes bearing the signature of Richard Pierson. I look down at my blackened hands, my torn shoes, my tattered clothes, and I try to connect them with a professor who lives at Princeton, and who on the night of October 30, glimpsed through his telescope an orange splash of light on a distant planet. My wife, my colleagues, my students, my books, my observatory, my. . . my world. . . where are they? Did they ever exist? Am I Richard Pierson? What day is it? Do days exist without calendars? Does time pass when there are no human hands left to wind the clocks? . . .In writing down my daily life I tell myself shall preserve human history between the dark covers of this little book that was meant to record the movements of the stars. . . But to write I must live, and to live, I must eat . . . I find moldy bread in the kitchen, and an orange not too spoiled to swallow. I keep watch at the window. From time to time I catch sight of a Martian above the black smoke. The smoke still holds the house in its black coil. . . but at length there is a hissing sound and suddenly I see a Martian mounted on his machine, spraying the air with a jet of steam, as if to dissipate the smoke. I watch in a corner as his huge metal legs nearly brush against the house. Exhausted by terror, I fall asleep. . .it's morning. . .
(QUIETLY) Morning! Sun streams in the window. The black cloud of gas has lifted, and the scorched meadows to the north look as though a black snowstorm has passed over them. I venture from the house. I make my way to a road. No traffic. Here and there a wrecked car, baggage overturned, a blackened skeleton. I push on north. For some reason I feel safer trailing these monsters than running away from them. And I keep a careful watch. I have seen the Martians. . . feed. Should one of their machines appear over the top of trees, I am ready to fling myself flat on the earth. I come to a chestnut tree. October chestnuts are ripe. I fill my pockets. I must keep alive. Two days I wander in a vague northerly direction through a desolate world. Finally I notice a living creature. . . a small red squirrel in a beech tree. I stare at him, and wonder. He stares back at me. I believe at that moment the animal and I shared the same emotion. . .the joy of finding another living being. I push on north. I find dead cows in a brackish field. Beyond, the charred ruins of a dairy. The silo remains standing guard over the waste land like a lighthouse deserted by the sea. Astride the silo perches a weathercock. The arrow points north.
Next day I came to a city vaguely familiar in its contours, yet its buildings strangely dwarfed and leveled off, as if a giant hand sliced off its highest towers with a capricious sweep of his hand. I reached the outskirts. I found Newark, undemolished, but humbled by some whim of the advancing Martians. Presently, with an odd feeling of being watched, I caught sight of something crouching in a doorway. I made a step towards it, and it rose up and became a man! -- a man, armed with a large knife.

STRANGER: (OFF MIKE) Stop. . . (CLOSER) where did you come from?

PIERSON: I come from . . . many places. A long time ago from Princeton.

STRANGER:Princeton, huh? That's near Grovers Mill!

PIERSON: Yes.

STRANGER: Grovers Mill. . . (LAUGHS AS AT A GREAT JOKE) There's no food here. This is my country. . . all this end of town down to the river. There's only food for one. . . Which way are you going?

PIERSON: I don't know. I guess I'm looking for -- for people.

STRANGER:(NERVOUSLY) What was that? Did you hear something just then?

PIERSON: Only a bird . . . (AMAZED) A live bird!

STRANGER: You get to know that birds have shadows these days. . . Say, we're in the open here. Let's crawl into this doorway and talk.

PIERSON: Have you seen any . . . Martians?

STRANGER: Naah. They've gone over to New York. At night the sky is alive with their lights. Just as if people were still livin' in it. By daylight you can't see them. Five days ago a couple of them carried somethin' big across the flats from the airport. I believe they're learning how to fly.

PIERSON: Fly!

STRANGER: Yeah, fly.

PIERSON: Then it's all over with humanity. Stranger, there's still you and I. Two of us left.

STRANGER: They got themselves in solid; they wrecked the greatest country in the world. Those green stars, they're probably falling somewhere every night. They've only lost one machine. There isn't anything to do. We're done. We're licked.

PIERSON: Where were you? You're in a uniform.

STRANGER: Yeah, what's left of it. I was in the militia -- national guard. . . That's good! Wasn't any war any more than there's war between men and ants.

PIERSON: And we're eat-able ants. I found that out. . . What will they do with us?

STRANGER: I've thought it all out. Right now we're caught as we're wanted. The Martian only has to go a few miles to get a crowd on the run. But they won't keep doing that. They'll begin catching us systematic-like -- keeping the best and storing us in cages and things. They haven't begun on us yet!

PIERSON: Not begun!

STRANGER: Not begun! All that's happened so far is because we don't have sense enough to keep quiet. . . botherin' them with guns and such stuff and losing our heads and rushing off in crowds. Now instead of our rushing around blind we've got to fix ourselves up -- fix ourselves up according to the way things are NOW. Cities, nations, civilization, progress. . . done.

PIERSON: But if that's so, what is there to live for?

STRANGER: Well, there won't be any more concerts for a million years or so, and no nice little dinners at restaurants. If it's amusement you're after, I guess the game's up.

PIERSON: And what is there left?

STRANGER: Life. . . that's what! I want to live. Yeah, and so do you. We're not going to be exterminated. And I don't mean to be caught, either, and tamed, and fattened, and bred, like an ox.

PIERSON: What are you going to do?

STRANGER: I'm going on. . . right under their feet. I got a plan. We men as men are finished. We don't know enough. We gotta learn plenty before we've got a chance. And we've got to live and keep free while we learn, see? I've thought it all out, see.

PIERSON: Tell me the rest.

STRANGER: Well, it isn't all of us that were made for wild beasts, and that's what it's got to be. That's why I watched YOU. All these little office workers that used to live in these houses -- they'd be no good. They haven't any stuff to 'em. They just used to run off to work. I've seen hundreds of 'em, running wild to catch their commuter train in the morning for fear they'd get canned if they didn't; running back at night afraid they won't be in time for dinner. Lives insured and a little invested in case of accidents. And on Sundays, worried about the hereafter. The Martians will be a godsend for those guys. Nice roomy cages, good food, careful breeding, no worries. After a week or so chasing about the fields on empty stomachs they'll come and be glad to be caught.

PIERSON: You've thought it all out, haven't you?

STRANGER: You bet I have! And that isn't all. These Martians will make pets of some of 'em, train 'em to do tricks. Who knows? Get sentimental over the pet boy who grew up and had to be killed. . . And some, maybe, they'll train to hunt us.

PIERSON: No, that's impossible. No human being. . .

STRANGER: Yes they will. There's men who'll do it gladly. If one of them ever comes after me, why. . .

PIERSON: In the meantime, you and I and others like us. . . where are we to live when the Martians own the earth?

STRANGER: I've got it all figured out. We'll live underground. I've been thinking about the sewers. Under New York are miles and miles of 'em. The main ones are big enough for anybody. Then there's cellars, vaults, underground storerooms, railway tunnels, subways. You begin to see, eh? And we'll get a bunch of strong men together. No weak ones; that rubbish -- out.

PIERSON: And you meant me to go?

STRANGER: Well, I gave you a chance, didn't I?

PIERSON: We won't quarrel about that. Go on.

STRANGER: And we've got to make safe places for us to stay in, see, and get all the books we can -- science books. That's where men like you come in, see? We'll raid the museums, we'll even spy on the Martians. It may not be so much we have to learn before -- just imagine this: four or five of their own fighting machines suddenly start off -- heat rays right and left and not a Martian in 'em. Not a Martian in 'em! But MEN -- men who have learned the way how. It may even be in our time. Gee! Imagine having one of them lovely things with its heat ray wide and free! We'd turn it on Martians, we'd turn it on men. We'd bring everybody down to their knees.

PIERSON: That's your plan?

STRANGER: You, and me, and a few more of us we'd own the world.

PIERSON: I see. . .

STRANGER: (FADING OUT) Say, what's the matter? . . . Where are you going?

PIERSON: Not to your world. . . Goodbye, stranger. . .

PIERSON: After parting with the artilleryman, I came at last to the Holland Tunnel. I entered that silent tube anxious to know the fate of the great city on the other side of the Hudson. Cautiously I came out of the tunnel and made my way up Canal Street. I reached Fourteenth Street, and there again were black powder and several bodies, and an evil ominous smell from the gratings of the cellars of some of the houses. I wandered up through the Thirties and Forties; I stood alone on Times Square. I caught sight of a lean dog running down Seventh Avenue with a piece of dark brown meat in his jaws, and a pack of starving mongrels at his heels. He made a wide circle around me, as though he feared I might prove a fresh competitor. I walked up Broadway in the direction of that strange powder -- past silent shopwindows, displaying their mute wares to empty sidewalks -- past the Capitol Theatre, silent, dark -- past a shooting gallery, where a row of empty guns faced an arrested line of wooden ducks. Near Columbus Circle I noticed models of 1939 motorcars in the showrooms facing empty streets. From over the top of the General Motors Building, I watched a flock of black birds circling in the sky. I hurried on. Suddenly I caught sight of the hood of a Martian machine, standing somewhere in Central Park, gleaming in the late afternoon sun. An insane idea! I rushed recklessly across Columbus Circle and into the Park. I climbed a small hill above the pond at Sixtieth Street. From there I could see, standing in a silent row along the mall, nineteen of those great metal Titans, their cowls empty, their great steel arms hanging listlessly by their sides. I looked in vain for the monsters that inhabit those machines.
Suddenly, my eyes were attracted to the immense flock of black birds that hovered directly below me. They circled to the ground, and there before my eyes, stark and silent, lay the Martians, with the hungry birds pecking and tearing brown shreds of flesh from their dead bodies. Later when their bodies were examined in the laboratories, it was found that they were killed by the putrefactive and disease bacteria against which their systems were unprepared. . . slain, after all man's defenses had failed, by the humblest thing that God in His wisdom put upon this earth.
Before the cylinder fell there was a general persuasion that through all the deep of space no life existed beyond the petty surface of our minute sphere. Now we see further. Dim and wonderful is the vision I have conjured up in my mind of life spreading slowly from this little seedbed of the solar system throughout the inanimate vastness of sidereal space. But that is a remote dream. It may be that the destruction of the Martians is only a reprieve. To them, and not to us, is the future ordained perhaps.
Strange it now seems to sit in my peaceful study at Princeton writing down this last chapter of the record begun at a deserted farm in Grovers Mill. Strange to see from my window the university spires dim and blue through an April haze. Strange to watch children playing in the streets. Strange to see young people strolling on the green, where the new spring grass heals the last black scars of a bruised earth. Strange to watch the sightseers enter the museum where the dissembled parts of a Martian machine are kept on public view. Strange when I recall the time when I first saw it, bright and clean-cut, hard, and silent, under the dawn of that last great day.

(MUSIC SWELLS UP AND OUT)

Orson Welles: This is Orson Welles, ladies and gentlemen, out of character to assure you that The War of The Worlds has no further significance than as the holiday offering it was intended to be. The Mercury Theatre's own radio version of dressing up in a sheet and jumping out of a bush and saying Boo! Starting now, we couldn't soap all your windows and steal all your garden gates by tomorrow night. . . so we did the best next thing. We annihilated the world before your very ears, and utterly destroyed the C. B. S. You will be relieved, I hope, to learn that we didn't mean it, and that both institutions are still open for business. So goodbye everybody, and remember the terrible lesson you learned tonight. That grinning, glowing, globular invader of your living room is an inhabitant of the pumpkin patch, and if your doorbell rings and nobody's there, that was no Martian. . .it's Hallowe'en.

(MERCURY THEATRE THEME UP FULL, THEN DOWN)

Announcer: Tonight the Columbia Broadcasting System and its affiliated stations coast-to-coast have brought you The War of the Worlds, by H. G. Wells, the seventeenth in its weekly series of dramatic broadcasts featuring Orson Welles and the Mercury Theatre on the Air. Next week we present a dramatization of three famous short stories. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.

The Secret History of Extraterrestrials (Len Kasten)

2012-09-24T19:02:00.002+01:00

"With our present knowledge of the cosmos, there is now a real possibility of evolved and intelligent civilizations elsewhere in the vast cosmological space. The Secret History of Extraterrestrials is a must for the libraries of all seekers of truth with unbiased minds." -- Robert Bauval, author of The Orion Mystery, Message of the Sphinx, and Black Genesis.

"Len Kasten's The Secret History of Extraterrestrials provides an indispensable key to unlocking the hidden history of the extraterrestrial presence on our planet. The scope and implications of Kasten's book are breathtaking, not because of some sleight of hand by an ambitious author, but because of the greater reality he unveils of extraterrestrials historically interacting with humanity." -- Michael E. Salla, M.A., Ph.D., founder and president of Exopolitics Institute.

The extraterrestrial presence on Earth is widening and, as we enter the Aquarian Age, will be admitted officially, causing shock and an urgent universal need to understand the social and technological changes derived from our space brothers. A primer for the explosive advances humanity will experience scientifically and spiritually in the coming years, this compendium explores the ET phenomenon and its influence on humanity past and present.The book surveys contact with ETs and abduction accounts, unexplained public and/or undisclosed military technology from aliens, including antigravity devices, exopolitics (the influence of ETs in human affairs), the Iraqi Stargate, the Hybrid Project of alien interbreeding by abduction, Nazi ties to UFOs and their secret underground base in Antarctica, and government cover-ups of alien actions, including Roswell.

Based on interviews with people who are witnessing the coming changes as well as those visionaries who are actually bringing them about -- including John Mack, Lieutenant Colonel Jesse Marcel, Paul LaViolette, Robert Bauval, Michael Salla, and Helen Wambach -- this book sketches out a breathtaking vision of the planetary revolution just around the corner.

LEN KASTEN is a UFO researcher and freelance writer. He intensively studied the Edgar Cayce Readings at the A.R.E. in Virginia Beach and has been a lifelong devotee of astrology and theosophy. He is a former member of the National Investigations Committee on Aerial Phenomena (NICAP) and the Mutual UFO Network (MUFON), and he is the president of the American Philosopher Society. He has been a feature writer, with more than 50 published articles, for Atlantis Rising magazine. He lives in Casa Grande, Arizona.

The Secret History of Extraterrestrials

Cold War Baby Blues 1: Wake Up Call / Woke Up This Morning and My Baby Was Gone!

2012-09-14T11:07:00.000+01:00

An MP4 titled "Wake Up Call / Woke Up This Morning and My Baby Was Gone" was send to me by one "Chris T.", again using a mail with a YouSendIt-link where the video can be downloaded, as did before Jacky Joe. This makes the connection between the Blue Beam Project Lectures and what will probably grow into a "Cold War Baby Blues" series very tight. Some topics that are part of the Lectures and this "Wake Up Call" need your further attention and investigation, such as Project MK-Ultra: Mind Control, Gang Stalking & Gaslighting.

The Blue Beam Project Lectures

Lecture 4: Christ, here He is again: the Antichrist!
You may believe it’s Jesus Christ speaking here, or his diabolic twin brother, the Antichrist. But hey, it’s only a computer programmed animated video character you’re seeing and hearing. I’m just a puppet on a string, acting robotical. I had the per
Lecture 3: Beam Us All Up, Mr. Spock!
All of the major claims made by Serge Monast in his Blue Beam Project Lectures, have direct and well-documented antecedents in Star Trek movies and Next Generation episodes, dating back to 1976...
Lecture 2: A Conspiracy Theory
Trranscript of The Blue Beam Project Lecture Video Nr. 2, sent to me by one Jacky Joe: Ladies and gentlemen… I had a dream last night, being Mel Gibson at the Oscar Ceremony, saying thank you Serge Monast because I could be you in Conspiracy Theory…
Lecture 1: The Blue Beam Project Questionnaire
This is a transcript of an animated video message I received in my mail box. It was send to me by one ‘Jacky Joe’ and it was titled 'Lecture 1: The Blue Beam Project Questionnaire'.

Lecture 4: Christ, here He is again... the AntiChrist!

2012-09-14T10:56:00.000+01:00

Hi, here I am again. But as you may know, or do not know: what you see isn’t necessarily what you get. You may believe it’s Jesus Christ speaking here, or his diabolic twin brother, the Antichrist. But hey, it’s only a computer programmed animated video character you’re seeing and hearing. I’m just a puppet on a string, acting robotical. I had the perfect brainwash, I may not even have my own mind under control.
The question is, ladies and gentlemen... Who is my ghostwriter? Who are the Puppet Masters? And why are they animating me?

Full Transcript & Notes:
http://thelostdutchman.hubpages.com/video/Christ-here-He-is-again-the-Antichrist

The Blue Beam Project Lectures:

Lecture 1: The Blue Beam Project Questionnaire
This is a transcript of an animated video message I received in my mail box. It was send to me by one ‘Jacky Joe’ and it was titled 'Lecture 1: The Blue Beam Project Questionnaire'.
Lecture 2: A Conspiracy Theory
Trranscript of The Blue Beam Project Lecture Video Nr. 2, sent to me by one Jacky Joe: Ladies and gentlemen… I had a dream last night, being Mel Gibson at the Oscar Ceremony, saying thank you Serge Monast because I could be you in Conspiracy Theory…
Lecture 3: Beam Us All Up, Mr. Spock!
All of the major claims made by Serge Monast in his Blue Beam Project Lectures, have direct and well-documented antecedents in Star Trek movies and Next Generation episodes, dating back to 1976...

Lecture 3: Beam Us All Up, Mr. Spock!

2012-09-14T10:50:00.000+01:00

Who has Scotty beamed up here? Give the guy a quote!

Transcript of Jacky Joe Video titled

"Beam Us All Up, Mr. Spock" (Lecture 3)

"Dear followers of the Monastic Blue Beam Conspiracy! The question is not to believe or not to believe, the questions is who are the spooks who fed Serge Monast this crazy Blue Beam script, and why did they do that? In 1994, not long before Serge Monast released the Blue Beam Conspiracy, Joel Engel published a book on Gene Roddenberry, The Myth and the Man Behind Star Trek. There was some information in it about a Star Trek feature film script proposal, dating from the mid seventies. The story told of a flying saucer, programmed to send down people who looked like prophets down to Earth. The special guest list included Jesus Christ."

Full Transcript & Notes:
http://thelostdutchman.hubpages.com/video/Beam-Us-Al-Up-Mr-Spock

Lecture 2: Conspiracy Theory

2012-09-14T10:43:00.001+01:00

This is the transcript of "The Blue Beam Project Lecture Video Nr. 2", sent to me by one Jacky Joe:

"Ladies and gentlemen… I had a dream last night, being Mel Gibson at the Oscar Ceremony, saying thank you Serge Monast because I could be you in Conspiracy Theory… Or maybe… Maybe I was Serge Monast, saying thank you Mel Gibson, because you acted like me in this true tale of conspirational madness…"

Full Transcript & Notes:

http://thelostdutchman.hubpages.com/video/Lecture-2-A-Conspiracy-Theory

Lecture 1: The Blue Beam Project Questionnaire

2012-09-14T10:39:00.000+01:00

This is an animated video message The Lost Dutchman (http://thelostdutchman.hubpages.com/)

received in his mail box.

It was send to him by one 'Jacky Joe',

it is a part of 'The Blue Beam Project Lectures by Jacky Joe'

and it was titled

'Lecture 1: The Blue Beam Project Questionnaire'.

You can read the transcript & notes here:

http://thelostdutchman.hubpages.com/hub/The-Blue-Beam-Project-Questionnaire

In this Castle of a Sleeping Beauty

2011-11-07T10:19:00.001+00:00

Time slips slowly

as in this castle of a Sleeping Beauty
where I am dreaming for a while now
eternally.

Full poem here:

In this Castle of a Sleeping Beauty

Salomé - Part Two: Don't look at me!... Something terrible might happen!...

2011-10-21T19:45:00.001+01:00

Salomé, Part Two
by: patrickbernauw

Salomé - Part One: How Beautiful Salomé Is Tonight...

2011-08-31T12:37:00.000+01:00

Oscar Wilde's famous classic play, adapted and performed by the Animated Heroes of the LateNight StageFright Company. Here's Part One!

The DumDum Blonde Shoot Out & Shut Up Comedy Show

2011-08-25T17:10:00.000+01:00

Seeing the DumDum Blonde through his Evil Eye

2011-08-24T19:00:00.001+01:00

Part One of the Hard Boiled Harry Shoot Out & Shut Up Comedy Show:

Seeing the DumDum Blonde through his Evil Eye

(An animated Movie Series.)