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Yates -- Sound Density and Phonons

Yates -- Sound Density and Phonons

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09/11/2013

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Sound Density andPhonons
J. R. Yates
 
Research Fellow Life Physics Group - California
June, 2011
 he quote, “I’ve been rich and I’ve been poor…… believe me Honey - rich isbetter” is an old “saw” attributed to many fine entertainers of the 20
th
 century. I’d like to explore this in relation to the transmission of music filesin current available technologies, particularly as it might apply to internetcommunications of Phonons or Names of God.In the summer of 1991 in
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Vancouver, B.C., a friend of mine
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Peter and I paid avisit to
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Bill an “Alchemist”. Many interesting topics were discussed that day overtea in the kitchen: Tesla inventions, some of which he had built; turning lead togold, as well as the challenges faced through the ages by practitioners of thatancient occult art. Our host also maintained a deep interest in sound and music.As our visit unfolded, we naturally flowed to his basement where a trulyexceptional sound system had been constructed by himself and his Dad. It wascomposed of a number of elements, the likes of which I have never again seen orexperienced. The total cost of componentry which the two of them had lovinglyorganized came to over $100,000. One wall, eight feet high and perhaps fifteenfeet wide, was covered in various speakers each with specific frequency responses.In the middle of the room, covered in black velvet, was what could only be
T 
 
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described as a sarcophagus or altar. Obviously we were on “sacred ground”. Thetop surface had been inlaid with speakers matching each of the chakra or plexuspoints. These were tuned to match the frequencies associated with each of theseven main plexi. In the center of each, were suspended individual crystals,classically determined to be vibrationally supportive to these living energy centers.It was wondrous that anyone would both think of and construct such a device. Istood in awe.Bill was indeed a most interesting man. We chatted comfortably for a time and hesuggested that Peter climb aboard the “altar”. This he did, closed his eyes and thehandpicked music began, specifically tuned to his signature. I had not heardanything like it before as an observer.Things progressed and my turn came. The music he’d chosen for my ride was rich,earthy; a stone-ground porridge of polyrhythmic African drums along with multiinstrument accompaniment. The effects were immediate and completelythroughout my entire body. I wondered at Bill’s intuition. I couldn’t have chosenbetter myself .As I fell into the spell of the beat I experienced the sounds at the celllevel and was transported up, up and away. No past or future – only the immediacyof now. I laughed and laughed, as if on wings enrobed in the sounds. It was as if Iwas “sound”, indistinguishable. The entire piece may have lasted five minutes oran hour I really don’t know and it really didn’t matter. I was full.Peter and Bill were chuckling and smiling at the apparent effects on me. For thenext half hour or so I was quite literally unable to thread two words together. Aswell as being speechless, I also could only clearly see the right side of mycompanions’ faces. The left sides were wandering perpendicular streaks of color. Isuppose I could have had a stroke, but I prefer to think not. It was an intenselymoving adventure. This is the first time I understood how transformative soundcould be.In the natural course of events, after Peter and I had settled down sufficiently, Billextracted a bright yellow box, perhaps 2’x1’x1’, into which he had installed one of Nikola Tesla’s inventions. This consisted of several coils all wired togetheraccording to plans which he had somehow acquired. There were two knobs bywhich the thing could be tuned. All HF and attendant sonic frequencies werefocused to the end of a spark plug lead where the insulated handle contained asocket. He mentioned that the results on the hot end were about 50KV. Into thisport one placed any one of three possible 6” double neon lamps filled with specificgas mixes. Depending on the reading obtained, the appropriate bulb was installed,
 
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before the unit was fired up. I remember the bulbs contained argon, krypton orneon gas. Each had a specific color and frequency. Bill explained that the devicehad been invented by Tesla as an electro-medical appliance. The intention was toaffect the patient’s cells, by interacting with the auric field to alter the workings of the physical body. The three areas were bones, muscles and nerves.In this instance Bill acted as practitioner and Peter and I as recipients of thebalancing sessions. Peter had recently overcome cancer and so had some of thosenasty fluorine juices used in the chemo sessions – most likely latent in his system.The tuning determined that argon was the wand of choice in his case. Along withthe bright orange light there was a static charge that tingled the air and a chosenaudible sound. Peter was asked to sit comfortably with arms just in front, together,palms down. Bill moved the wand some 4” above them in a sweeping hand-to-elbow-and-back motion. Correct timing had been decided beforehand. After a shortinterval there was a definite and intense smell of chlorine in the air. His muscleswere being attended to.For my turn, neon for nerves was picked. The instrument turned on and Bill wavedthe pure violet lighted wand over the backs of my hands, wrists and forearms. Thesession was maybe three minutes in duration. The feel was an electric tinglingthroughout my frame, whilst the audible sound modulated depending on how closeto my skin the magic wand hovered on each pass. I again became aware of anintense aroma; this time the fragrance of roses. I soon realized this was not theelectro-sonic wand, but rather one of the more pronounced effects on my body.Yes, my person was emitting the perfume of roses and did so for at least the nexttwenty four hours. Rose is my favorite scent, so you can imagine my delight.All within the passing of a few hours that day, I had experienced the transformativenature of sound – twice.In the late 90’s I attended a weekend African drumming workshop. The MasterDrummer was my friend
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Kojo whose roots are lost in the veils of time. His familyhas been Drum Masters, in his Ghanese village for as long as anyone remembers.He asked me to play the “gankogui”, a bell-like instrument used to hold the beat,central to polyrhythmic music. With up to seven intertwining rhythmic patterns,it’s easy to get lost, so the “gankogui” provides the place if one should have amomentary lapse. Kojo had always had difficulty finding a player and so I becamehis “Gankogui Man”. We travelled and performed together in eastern Canada forabout a year and it was an amazing set of musical concerts. Kojo was aware of every beat in every moment. He explained proudly that “African classical

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