The Marked Rocks vs Airport Screening & Security:
Puzzling Times at the Sydney Museum and Airport
By Steven & Evan Strong
It all seemed like a simple plan that could finally lead to a situation where those in official circles would have to admit to the general public that these ancient sacred rocks display technology still to be reached today. To achieve that end, all I had to do was join Richard and Robyn in a special guided tour somewhere beneath in the lower floors of the Australian Museum (Sydney). The tour was one hour in duration and it was my intention to show the person highest up the pecking order half a dozen of the most impressive rocks, then find out whether good science and common-sense could prevail.
This was the last in a series of special tours to the lower floors, in this case to a storeroom of Original artefacts numbering in the hundreds, of which most were old and wooden. There were fifteen in the party escorted by three female members of staff, and it was obvious who the senior member was, she led the tour and decided which exhibits were to be shown and discussed. From her point of view the tour seemed to be going well, after a brief ten minutes at the central table we set off down the aisles and between countless metal shelves towards the first Original artefact.
I didn’t get all the details until after exiting the premises, but I did know Robyn, who has undoubted psychic skills, had reacted badly to the grief and misery these imprisoned artefacts were forced to endure. She was taken out by the Original woman who was part of the team assigned to guide us, and was so badly affected by the pain within did not return. Nor did I want to stay, very rarely do I react to any form of energy or presence, but this was different and so overwhelmingly sad. They were literally begging to be taken back to country, the polystyrene base, neon lights and air-conditioning are appalling substitutes and their calls for freedom were impossible to ignore.
Five minutes after Robyn left I was so tempted to join her, but once exiting this room there was no way to return and the whole purpose of this discreet ambush would be lost. So I stayed, mainly keeping apart from the show and tell exercise, my only goal was to last the hour, show the rocks and leave this miserable scene of carnage. What is as ironic as it is symptomatic, was that the lady in charge had a smile on her face and honestly believed showing and storing these hidden artefacts was good science and somehow respectful to Original culture.
That hour was the longest I had experienced, it just never seemed to end and nor did the artefacts relent in their call to be on country. Thankfully the tour came to a close and the lady highest up the ladder did spend some time examining about half a dozen marked rocks and made all the right comments. Yes it did contradict current expectations regarding the sophistication of technology and she openly conceded they had nothing of this advanced level in their displays or on their books. They are amazing pieces of archaeology and she promised to pass this up the chain of command to her supervisor, when he returned at the end of October.
It wasn’t an empty promise, I have no doubt this was passed on, but knowing that the general academic climate is so antagonistic to our research and that some of our most strident critics are employed by the same Sydney museum, the reality was that the chances this would get through the chain of command were minimal. What only adds to our suspicion, is that it is now one week into November and no contact from that Museum has been forthcoming.
So going down to the lower floors of this Museum was a little bit like entering enemy territory, but I tried not to let my preconceptions taint the background setting. However, the marked rocks I brought with me had no previous issues with this building or the display, but what happened next left no doubt that they also did not enjoy their time in the company of their ancient colleagues. The rocks seemed to be in open conflict with the Museum and their rules of engagement.
Back Into the Sunshine
From the museum my plan was simple, to catch a flight out of Sydney and back home. I had 30 kilograms of rocks in the baggage to be checked in and in the carry-on baggage there was about five kilograms of rocks selected from the highest level that are too precious to allow the baggage handlers an opportunity to add to their tally of three rocks already damaged while in transit. There were no problems at the check-in and since I was below the limit for carry-on by two kilograms, and had taken these more important rocks with me on each previous flight, I had no reason to expect anything out of the ordinary.
As my carry-on bag was placed on the belt to be x-rayed, I was asked the standard questions about knives and dangerous articles to which I casually shook my head motioning no and then proceeded through the personal screen without any need to be concerned. Once through the body detector I looked back to find that the belt had stopped and my bag was obviously the cause of the delay. The security guard monitoring each bag asked me what was inside, to which I replied ‘archaeology, just marked rocks.’ I never gave it a second thought as I had been asked this question more often than not, but this time around a second screening of the same offending package lead to the guard repeating his original question. Giving the same response did not seem to satisfy his unease, and after a third examination of the contents within, the official decided assistance from above was needed and requested that the “Team Leader” deal with this matter.
This was new, being challenged once over the objects within was standard practise, but never before had the belt been stopped and the queues behind were now getting noticeably larger. The “Team Leader” did indeed have this special status sewn into his shirt and also came equipped to forage with antiseptic efficiency (and perhaps pay a silent homage to Michael Jackson) with two white gloves. But before investigating further, he too ran the bag through the screen once, then came back for an encore screening, and while this continued the lines waiting seemed to have spilled past the assigned aisles into the general passageway.
The delay and inconvenience had no impact on this official with white gloves, he wasn’t going to be rushed in his duties. He picked up the bag and placed on the table in front of me, my first response was to place my hands on my property, but that only allowed the lines of demarcation to be firmly established. I was tersely informed that I had no legal rights on this bag until he returned it to me, then he wanted to know exactly what was packed within. I gave the same answer as before and received the same raised eyebrows and suspicious stance.
Upon announcing his intention to search the bag, my immediate response warning him if he placed skin on rock he would “die,” did nothing to thaw relations. Fortunately the gloves did stay attached and much to his surprise there was nothing there beyond rocks wrapped in bubble-wrap. Upon realising I was not a threat, his antagonism relented marginally when I asked why everyone over-reacted. His reply was given with no understanding of why or how, but the machine gave the same visual image on five occasions. Or perhaps the opposite is a closer mark, as no distinct form was visible, the rocks had congealed into one homogeneous black mass and there were no gaps in between. The “Team Leader” readily admitted the rocks were not tightly packed and that they had never seen such a result. Nevertheless, the machine had failed and his concern was that the fault lay in a micro-chip or button, when in reality it was all about being in the wrong place with the right rocks.
Vibrating at a Higher Level
That dark energy which spread throughout the bag was absorbed barely an hour earlier. Those rocks were in the direct presence of deep frustration and misery and merely cleansed themselves of that negative setting when under the screen. What was occurring was beyond the scope of any modern-day device and a natural part of the rock’s evolution.
Unfortunately I did not think through exactly how the rocks unloaded themselves of this dismal burden, whatever is nearby is the obvious port-of-call. Once the rocks were recognised as non-life threatening, I was allowed to reclaim my carry-on bag and its contents, but the grieving process was nowhere near completed. My bag stayed beside me on the floor or suspended beside my waist when walking, and because of my close proximity the rest of that sickness and imbalance was now mine to endure. Over the next week I felt as poorly as I ever have, only once before was I anywhere close to being this unwell, and that slightly lesser attack of the same ailments was due to breaking protocol when on a sacred site.
Doctor Spock and the Lord of the Rings
The Elders assure us some of these rocks have the capacity to store information about the humans they come in direct contact with, to an extent, they literally download any that sit near or touch. But it would be wrong to assume their record is total, just like those beings from distant constellations who visit this planet for a variety of reasons, neither witness can fully appreciate the complete scope and motivations behind the most powerful force in the Cosmos, pure love. This force has been the focal point of interest for Aliens and the Star Rocks, but it has to be conceded it was a human trait that was never been never fully understood. Doctor Spock, was the first empathetic portrayal of an extra-terrestrial in popular media outlets, and he also never fully grasped why humans were so emotionally-driven.
The rocks are no different. They too have a moral compass and acknowledge good and evil, but assume all people are the same as those they have merged with and have no soul as such and because of this void, lack empathy and flexibility. The rocks are not hesitant in expressing their displeasure and have created physical obstacles and served reprimands for actions that may not fit into yesterday’s rules of engagement and protocol. They are bound by the knowledge of the past and are unwilling to modify or adapt to the changing conditions. What can be said is that once again the refusal to accept change and yearning to reminisce over the past is very much a human trait, and the rocks are only replicating what is already part of the Homo sapien condition.
Four months ago these rocks were archaeological specimens exhibiting amazing technology that did not fit into any conventional narrative of our ancient past. Fascinating to examine in trying to explain who, why and how, and occasionally one rock would bend some boundaries, but first and foremost this research into the past was all history. That was the state of play before our presentation at the Irish Club in Adelaide, past that seminal Sunday in September everything changed from the past to present.
Since that change, the same rocks have been extremely proactive in their dealings with humans. The current marked rock scoreboard includes pushing, speaking, tripping, inflicting headaches and pains in the chest, separating the soul from the body, being kept awake night after night, enlightening the individual, tempting some to touch the rocks and sharing revelations. It may sound ridiculous in allocating human traits to inanimate rocks, and to be perfectly honest it does, but the problem we face is that every example cited we have either witnessed or personally experienced. From every level bar one it would be more preferable to never talk of such things, but that would be a lie through omission and cowardice.
We have no proof, test tube nor machine to measure and validate. It comes down to what we know to be true versus what will appear to be an utterly outrageous claim. What makes this an easy choice, irrespective of how much derision and sarcasm is directed our way, is that the rocks are stirring and as each day passes they are getting stronger. Something massive will come out of this awakening. That is why the rocks are humming, they have an important task to complete, everything past that is a mystery.