Stories about near-death experiences have increasingly appeared in the media in recent years, but their heroes are overwhelmingly adults. Those who can describe what they felt and saw. But with children everything is much more complicated, because they often take it all for granted and talk about what they saw only later and then under random circumstances. The medical journal Critical Care Medicine described a case in which a six-month-old baby was hospitalized and nearly died. Fortunately, they managed to save him. And three years later his grandmother died and when his parents told him about this, the boy calmly asked, “Did she fly through the tunnel to God?” This child had never been talked to about the near-death experience, in which flying through some dark tunnel is mentioned by almost everyone who has experienced it, and his parents are sure that he simply had such an experience himself when he was clinically dead in the hospital. Other young children also say similar things. 4-year-old Tom from Berlin was hospitalized with an intestinal blockage. The child’s condition was so dangerous that he almost died during the operation and recovered with complications afterwards. Soon after his recovery, Tom’s dad asked his son where he wanted to go for a walk and he answered, “To that park.” “Which one?” asked his father. And the boy said: “The one where I went through the tunnel when I was in the hospital. There was a park with a lot of children and swings. It was surrounded by a white fence. When I climbed through the fence, a man stopped me and said that I couldn’t go there yet, and he sent me back into the tunnel and I ended up back in the hospital.” Most often, children’s near-death visions contain the same recurring components: a tunnel, a bright light, a meeting with deceased relatives, a vision of a beautiful garden or park, approaching some kind of fence, after which someone tells them that it is too early for them to go there, and returning back. And very often children talk about how they experienced a feeling of great happiness and the subsequent return from there to the “ordinary world” sometimes has a very depressing effect on them. According to Dr. Phyllis Marie Atwater, who has collected more than a hundred similar children’s stories of near-death experiences, some children were so shocked by the return from “eternal bliss” to reality that they subsequently even tried to commit suicide in order to return there again. There were also children who, after flying through the tunnel and emerging into the garden, were given the choice of whether to go back or go further. And they chose the first. But mainly because they were afraid to upset their parents. If the child was already of conscious age, that is, a schoolboy, then he often returned back because he needed to accomplish something in real life. 33-year-old Natasha from Cardiff was born completely deaf, and at the age of 9 she became seriously ill with whooping cough. Her condition was so dangerous that the doctor said she might not survive the night. And that night the girl woke up from a bright light that poured into the room through the cracks along the edges of the door. “I could hear someone calling my name, even though I was completely deaf. I got up to see what the light was and turned around to see that I was still lying in bed, sleeping (saw my body with sides). “Then I found myself in a room and realized that someone was standing behind me. He put his hand on my shoulder but told me not to turn around. He said I had to go back because I was important and I had a job to do.” Natasha survived that night and began to recover the next day. But for a long time she was afraid to tell her parents about what she saw then. She thought they would take her for crazy. The experience stayed with her throughout her life, and although she is not particularly religious, she says it gave her inner strength and self-confidence. “It’s like I’m here for a reason.” Many children, like Natasha, are afraid to talk about their near-death experience, believing that they will be called liars or abnormal, but others do not tell because they think that this is in the order of things and happens to everyone. Only when they grow up do they realize that they have experienced something very unusual. Back in the 1980s, Dr. Melvin Morse, who worked in an American hospital in the pediatric intensive care unit, began collecting cases of near-death experiences in children. He met with such children several times to understand how their lives changed afterward. Morse observed 30 such children who experienced clinical death due to cardiac arrest, and 10 years later after their experience, he found out that all thirty were doing well in school, they were mentally stable, happy, they had well-developed empathy and none were addicted to drugs or alcohol. According to Dr. Atwater, who also followed up with these children over the years, they tend to have longer relationships with their partners in adulthood. However, for some unknown reason, many people who have near-death experiences as adults often divorce their loved ones. Also, children who have had a near-death experience often have sensitivity to light and sound, and their blood pressure was lower than average. In adulthood, many began to consider themselves highly spiritual individuals, while separating spirituality from the religion in which they were raised. In some cases, such children began to ask the priests various “uncomfortable questions” that they could not answer. Reference: the Wisdom of Near Death Experiences by Dr. Penny Sartori The post How near-death experiences affect young children appeared first on Anomalien.com.

Progressive actor John Leguizamo isn’t doubling down on woke. He’s tripling down, and he’s putting his money where his mouth is. The “Carlito’s Way” actor paid cold, hard cash for a full-page New York Times ad (yes, print ads still exist) begging Emmy voters to select minorities when filling out their ballots. “Please let this be the year we finally embrace change …the year we truly find Equity, and see artists of color represented across not just one category, but ALL categories.” Little-known fact: Up until now, various awards shows have exclusively nominated white male stars, even in the Best Actress categories. Right? Wait … that isn’t the case? Weird. Actors have been delicately stepping away from woke in recent months. Tom Hanks slammed sensitivity readers. Dame Judi Dench mocked trigger warnings. Sharon Stone and Liam Neeson have asked Hollywood to let canceled Oscar winner Kevin Spacey make movies again. Not Leguizamo. The progressive star is going down with the woke ship. Warner Bros. puts Fredo in charge Hollywood bean-counters are all smart and stuff. Why else would they take an unprofitable, 26-year-old movie with little cultural heft and turn it into a franchise? Nicole Kidman and Sandra Bullock are in talks to reprise their witchy roles in “Practical Magic.” The 1998 film brought in $68 million globally on a $75 million budget. Math is hard, but we’re pretty sure Warner Bros. lost a bundle given that theaters keep a percentage of the profits. Why, it’s like the studio hired Fredo to oversee new projects. “I can handle things! I'm smart! Not like everybody says! Not dumb, I'm smart, and I want respect!” Batty 'Boys' boss bloviates: 'Go watch something else' Hollywood is slowly starting to realize that insulting the audience means fewer people watch its products. It explains why recent awards shows toned down the political lectures. Tell that to Eric Kripke. He’s the showrunner behind the once mighty Prime Video show “The Boys,” which returns June 13. Kripke acknowledged some fans aren’t pleased with the show’s increasing amount of progressive messaging, which magically has coincided with its creative decline. And he doesn’t care. "I clearly have a perspective, and I’m not shy about putting that perspective in the show. Anyone who wants to call the show 'woke' or whatever, that’s OK. Go watch something else. But I’m certainly not going to pull any punches or apologize for what we’re doing.” Here’s betting more than a few viewers will do just that. Oh, and Kripke announced the dark superhero series will end with Season 5. Can 'Extinction' distraction save Bill Murray? Bill Murray is in Hollywood’s doghouse. The “Saturday Night Live” alum was once a comedy legend who could do no wrong. They even made a movie of his colorful public appearances. Then, he allegedly behaved badly on the set of a film and became professionally radioactive. He’s still working, but his brand within the industry took a hit with the murky revelations. Now, the star is joining the Extinction Rebellion movement, which recently interrupted a Broadway show to spread its climate alarmism, in a new production to run this week. Has Murray taken a stand for the environment over the years? He’s no Jane Fonda. Why now? Coincidence? Damage control? You be the judge. Ryan Reynolds takes in 'The View' from the cheap seats Ryan Reynolds suffered a professional black eye when he starred in the superhero dud “Green Lantern.” It stalled his career and crushed any hopes of a new DC Comics-based franchise. That can’t compare to the professional punishment he endured this week. The “Deadpool” star sat in “The View’s” studio audience alongside his mum. Even worse? He admitted Mama Reynolds watches “The View” every day and dreamed of being in the show’s audience. Thoughts and prayers for the A-list star in this troubling time.

This winter I turned on the light on the nightstand and stared at the 45-70 rifle propped up in the corner of my bedroom. After thinking for a moment, I got up and put it in the living room. This was the first time I had a gun under my own roof, and I couldn’t get to sleep knowing it was there. I’ve been prone to depression all my life, and it just seemed to be tempting fate. Mind, I’m not suicidal, but I gave myself one night to be a big baby about it. The gun is on loan from my handyman and friend, Paul. “We’re gonna redneck you right up,” he'd grinned months earlier, while we we worked together to slop out and rebuild the flood-ravaged downstairs of my rental property, on a dirt road in rural Vermont. Frankly, it was a small step to rethink guns after it became clear that the government recognized no natural or legal check on its actions. The summer 2023 deluge couldn't have come at a worse time. I had bought the house in foreclosure years ago, originally to give family members an affordable place to stay. Now I was about to move in. I was in the process of selling my primary residence near Burlington, and I had to make this place habitable fast. Burlington blight Paul is right about needing to redneck me up. I’ve been a city boy my whole life, but the deranged progressive politics of urban New England drove me out. It started with the blue-haired set; an influx of lumbering 6'5" men tottering around in heels and eye shadow soon followed. Then there was the crime, a relative novelty in our land of quaint bed-and-breakfasts and fall foliage tours. Burlington transformed into a miniature version of San Francisco, complete with boarded-up businesses shuttered by the lockdowns and covered in graffiti, human feces on the sidewalks, and hypodermic needles littering what used to be manicured lawns in nice neighborhoods. When my curbside trash bins got “tagged” for the first time after living in the city for 15 years, that was the final straw. Now I’m learning about life with septic systems, well pumps, propane heating, backyard trash burning, and bears. Having a gun and knowing how to use it is just good sense when you live out here. In fact, I'd say it's good sense no matter where you live. Confessions of a former gun-grabber This is a recent development. See, I’m a former leftist. I drank the Kool-Aid of progressivism (and served a lot of it too) from the time I was a teenager. There wasn’t a welfare program I didn’t want expanded nor an “oppressed minority” I didn’t think needed special support from the state. My views were the typical politics of resentment. Like millions of other leftists, my orientation to the world was simple: “The government should take care of that for me." Of course I wanted gun control. Everyone knows that guns kill people, right? It sounds stupid to me now, but as someone who spent his life exclusively around other leftists until the age of 41, I believed a lot of very stupid things for a very long time. Most leftists won’t even listen to a conservative point of view. Or more accurately, perhaps, they can't. Confrontation with anything they perceive as “right-wing” provokes an almost involuntary emotional reaction, a kind of contamination-disgust reflex. I know it well because I often reacted the same way. Until I didn't. A crisis that unmasked the mental and moral illness in my family was the first event that started to open my eyes to the real world. What I’d been taught at home — men are inherently dangerous and toxic, the government should regulate and tax everything so that single mothers can get bigger benefits checks — had disturbed my moral compass until middle age. Cured by the CDC And then came COVID. I had already begun to let go of my leftist beliefs and turn to the right, but nothing pushed me farther or faster than watching the government trample the constitutional rights of citizens. It was unbelievable how many people obeyed extra-legal orders to stay home, wear masks, take jabs, and tell on their families and neighbors who didn’t obey Big Sister (it’s definitely “sister” in the 21st century). The extraordinary nationalization of rental properties by the Centers for Disease Control infuriated me. As a landlord, I could not believe that some “health”-based federal agency thought it had the right to tell my tenants they could just stop paying rent and that I had to suck it up. I count this turn of events as a blessing, as it cured me of the remnants of my allegiance to, well, communist views. Because that’s what leftism is today. Back to guns. I can’t explain why I believed what I did. Over the years, more sensible people patiently explained to me that criminals don’t obey gun control laws. They pointed out that when you have bad guys with guns that good guys can’t get, you end up with bad guys in charge and good guys in coffins. This is so glaringly obvious that a 4-year-old could understand it, and yet I didn’t. Never underestimate the average leftist's capacity for self-delusion. Actually, I can explain why I believed what I did and why millions of leftists believe the same. No actual thinking is taking place, only feeling. I had emotions about guns, but no thoughts. To be a leftist is to be ruled by fear, disgust, and the projection of one’s own negative motivations onto other people. Taking responsibility I can’t live that way any more. Not after the real world slapped me in the face — and slapped some sense into me. Being a small business owner educated me about the plain thievery of our taxation system. Being excommunicated from my job, my friends, and my social circle over my refusal to take a dangerous vaccine — and worse, my persistence in talking about it loudly and publicly — taught me the difference between friends and “friends.” Frankly, it was a small step to rethink guns after it became clear that the government recognized no natural or legal check on its actions. We’re all responsible for defending and protecting our lives, our property, and our families. So this summer Paul is going to train me more on the rifle. I fired it a few times at a target in the back yard (an old microwave oven, and yes, the explosion was as satisfying as you think), but now it’s time to get proficient. I’ll learn how to operate, store, and carry guns safely and sensibly. If a bear or — God forbid — an intruder threatens my safety, I’m my own line of defense, as it should be. After that first night of putting the rifle outside my bedroom, I put it right back. It’s not good coddling yourself; confronting reality is the cure for fear. Ever since, I’ve slept like a baby.

I don't know if Paul Brian ever actually sold cars, but as he seemed to have done everything else in the automotive industry, I wouldn't be surprised. At any rate, I imagine he would have been good at it. Paul was persistent. That was my first impression of him, which came via an email forwarded to me last December. He and his cohost Lauren Fix (who pays tribute to him below) had met with some people at Blaze Media about possible collaboration. Paul was following up, a little bemused by the slowness with which the corporate wheels were turning. Well, he expressed it a bit more memorably: "We all are more than aware that great ideas need gestation, but we also don’t want to have the chicken sitting on her eggs long enough that they turn up hard-boiled," he wrote. He returned to the barnyard metaphor once more at the end. "We’ve got the chickens. We’ve got the eggs. We’ve got the end-product consumers who are hungry for the end product. And we’ve got the right farmers. Seems ready for some action to bring them all together." I emailed Paul and suggested that he and Lauren might be a good fit for the new lifestyle section I was editing. Paul's response slyly ignored my cautious "might be." And that's how I got into the poultry business. At first I found Paul's energy and enthusiasm daunting; I sometimes felt that I was the one 20 years older. But it proved to be transmissible. Zoom calls with Paul and Lauren had a way of expanding from 20-minute logistical chats to 90-minute, freewheeling conversations about everything under the sun. Even over email, Paul was not one for terse, impersonal communication. Unlike some natural-born raconteurs, Paul had a knack for listening as well. Once I casually mentioned I'd lived in Czechoslovakia; Paul, who had lived in Milan working for Alfa Romeo, wanted to hear all about it. A throwaway comment about a fender-bender in my minivan or local flood warnings would be noted and responded to with genuine concern. In the short time I knew Paul, I began to understand why Lauren thought of him as an older brother. Paul was opinionated, funny, and passionate. But beneath all of that he was also something else, something harder to come by these days. I'd say he was a gentleman. I only worked with Paul for half a year or so, and we never met in person. His contributions to Align are a tiny fraction of his legacy, but they paint a surprisingly rich portrait. In them we get a glimpse of the fearless industry contrarian, the world champion chili cook and proud Army veteran, and the lifelong car fanatic who just wasn't built for the slow lane. My condolences to Paul's family and many friends; I'm glad to count myself among the latter. Presumptuous of me, perhaps, but I gather most people he worked with ended up feeling the same way. May he rest in peace. —Matt Himes It is with a very heavy heart that I share some sad news. Paul Brian passed away peacefully Tuesday evening at home with his daughter, Lesley Durkan, his granddaughter, Quinn, and his wonderful girlfriend, Pam. We hope God gives him a garage with endless cars. Paul had an impressive life. For those who never had the pleasure of meeting and knowing Paul as I did, he was more than just my cohost and driving buddy. Everywhere Paul went, he made friends and left an impact. Paul loved cars. He loved to drive them, talk about them, doodle them on cocktail napkins, and have deliciously fun talks (and sometimes arguments) about them with friends. For most of his life he did just that, and now he joins fellow car friends including Carroll Shelby, who became a 45-year friend and mentor. Paul was also passionate about art, science, food, wine, music, and fashion — because no car was ever built or bought without at least a little of each of those elements. Paul was regarded as one of our nation’s best-known, respected, and in-demand automotive industry experts. He was the marketing manager on the Alfa Romeo IndyCar team. He was the automotive voice of Chicago for 35-plus years. He headed the communications and marketing team for the Chicago Auto Show and hosted his "Drive Chicago" radio show on WLS Radio for 20 years. He was an honored juror for the North American Car and Truck of the Year Awards, served as president of the Midwest Automotive Media Association, received two Emmy awards, and was inducted into the Legends of Motorsport Guild’s Hall of Fame. Paul Brian was, to quote himself, “always entertaining and sometimes actually informative." Paul Brian was a proud veteran of the U.S. Army, serving as the director of the Armed Forces Radio and Television network while stationed in the Panama Canal Zone during Vietnam in the early 1970s. His love and devotion to the Army lived long after his service to our country. He spent decades serving veterans through philanthropic work and served as a founding member of the Allen J. Lynch Medal of Honor Veterans Foundation board of directors. Paul would do anything to help another veteran. In lieu of flowers, Paul wished for donations be given to the Allen J. Lynch Medal of Honor Veterans Foundation in his name. This was another of his passions: to help other soldiers who sacrificed so much. Allen J. Lynch Medal of Honor Veterans Foundation provides grants to those who are engaged in providing educational programs, PTSD assistance, and direct assistance to veterans. Allen J. Lynch Medal of Honor Veterans Foundation (501(c)(3) organization) 6615 Grand Ave Ste B PMB 415 Gurnee, IL 60031

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