By Charles W. Cosimano PREFACE There is a problem with this type of book and it is not one which you would expect. I have no doubt that it is going to get me into a lot of trouble with many people, some of whom have opinions which I actually respect. That is not the difficulty. Nor, as you will learn in the second chapter, am I a man to be intimidated by other peoples' ethics. No, I fear that the real problem lies in deciding how much material from my other books to include in this one and I fear that it has proven to be quite a lot. Please allow for an explanation. My original publisher, Carl Weschke at Llewellyn, in asking for this book, described the audience for Psionics as being divided between what he termed the Healers and the Warriors. Being a profound warrior myself, with the scars to prove it, I assumed that all my readers were as enamored of psychic combat as I am and thus my work Psionic Power was intended to have a chapter on the subject. My publisher, undoubtedly visualizing a lynch mob of outraged Healers pursuing us with torches and garden tools, suggested that I transform that chapter into what is this present volume, aimed at a new group of readers. Then he read it and his beard almost fell out. He was not quite expecting what he got and pretty soon this work was back on the market. It being likely that these new readers will not have seen my earlier works, I have included the basic methods covered in them, not to fill up space, but to enable those readers to build and work the equipment that they will need to survive in the brave new world of psychic warfare But I have not forgotten my old friends as well. While many of the methods and devices will be familiar, there is much that will be new and they should not feel cheated at being given a review of what they already know but might not have practiced for a while. So start reading and as you work through the material in this volume, keep in mind the advice given by General Patton to his troops: "Do not take counsel of your fears." One other thing. It is not always easy to work alone, but with a few exceptions noted in the text, Psionic warfare is a lone business. Very rarely will others be involved in your work and these, for reasons which should be obvious even to the most foolish, will generally not be allowed to know the full reasons for your activities. When the above was written 10 years ago I had no idea that this was going to the beginning of my dark cycle, which has led me from being the eccentric, somewhat reclusive researcher with a weird sense of humor to the exhalted rank of International Terrorist. Like my other early works, this one is somewhat old now and as a result needed some very real upgrading to bring it and its ideas and methods in line with psionics as I practice it today. Fortunately with word processors and the internet for publishing that is not the difficulty it had presented if I were confined to a print medium. This book was first written in the summer of 1985, just after I had sent the manuscript of Psionics 101 to Llewellyn. I was by no means certain that that book would be published so I wrote Psionic Combat (now returned to its orginal title, Psionic Warfare) as a back-up even though marketing it would have proven even more difficult. After all, this is NOT the sort of thing the New Agey types wanted to see, as was proven by the publication history of the early edition. As Psionic Combat, it was kept in print by IGAS for a goodly number of years but the time has come for a revision and here it is. I’ve added a few things and cut out a few things to create a whole new work with a much more aggressive emphasis, if that were indeed possible. And for those of you who heard about the book but never wanted to spend the ungodly amount IGAS was charging for it, here it is, the work that made my reputation as the psionic bad guy. I’m a lot scarier now than when this was written, but at the time much of the material in here was theory. It has since been proven in practice. Enjoy. Charles W. Cosimano INTRODUCTION "You ask what is our purpose, it is to wage war." Winston Churchill "War is diplomacy carried on by other means." Clausewitz Welcome to the dark side of the Force. Those of you who have had the marvelous good fortune to be acquainted with my writing know already that I try to bring a new approach to the subjects that I cover. To be frank, I see little point in rehashing old stories when there are always newer and more interesting ones, that is, of course, with the exception of the ones that are necessary to illustrate a new point, or if I just happen to like them. As you must already be aware, for ages there were a number of books on the market which dealt with psychic self-defence and a couple which are concerned with the uses of psychic abilities and instruments in warfare. Of the former, most contained information that was worthwhile as far as it goes, but occasionally the authors may lapse into paranoia. The latter works were and are of little practical use and tend to repeat rumors which are often more amusing than true. Let me give you a short example. There are still a number of us old enough to remember that in 1963, the submarine Thresher sank. After that occurred, a number of rumors began that said, in effect, that the Soviets had managed to destroy the submarine by means of a psychic attack. Now that made a good story, but there is no proof of it on one hand, and on the other we are faced with the fact that the Soviets managed to lose a few more submarines through accidents than the United States. Are we then to assume that the Russians were testing their equipment on their own submarines? This book is different. To my knowledge, this is the first book ever written which deals with psychic warfare as warfare and gives as much, if not more, space to methods of psychic attack as well as of defense. It is, if you will, a manual of strategy as well as tactics and it is concerned not only with finding a fending off assault but with carrying the war to the enemy and defeating him. You will notice that in this work I will cover much more than the methods of psychic warfare. There is a good reason for this. It must be understood that the individuals who have written their books on psychic self- defense were concerned with the purely psychic aspect of their work and were often not particularly well versed in the nature of warfare. As my background, before I took up psychic matters on something of a full-time basis, was in military history with a smattering of diplomatic studies as well, I tend to view psychic combat in the opposite way. The only difference, in my view, between psychic combat and purely physical combat is in the weapons used. All other principles remain the same. Therefore, the surest route to success in psychic warfare is to first study warfare as an art and become a warrior in the historic sense rather than in the wimpy, New Age, one. We will deal with violence as a fact of life. This being said, what will this manual do for you? This book, properly used and studied, will equip you to deal with certain difficulties in life, difficulties which come not from nature, but from the inconsiderate or often hostile acts of your fellow humans. If you follow the instructions given herein, you will find that you are no longer the helpless pawn of an unfeeling cosmos, beset upon all sides by relatives, neighbors, co-workers and the ubiquitous bureaucrats who infest our society like vermin in a grain bin. You will no longer be expected to assent to that which you despise and pretend that you like that which you hate. You will be able to call upon the very forces of the universe to aid you and control them with the same skill with which you control your car. You will be able to disrupt the lives of your foes as easily as you would tune your television and ultimately you will be beyond any practical retribution, unless, of course, the enemy has read this book himself. Most of the time, however, your targets will not even know the cause of their misfortune. You must remember that psionic warfare is psychic warfare with advantages and warfare is nothing more than the aggressive use of force to attack and defeat the enemy and in warfare there is no limit to the acceptable use of violence, no matter what the poor fools who get all bothered by landmines might say. In the bad old days of newts' eyes and frogs' tongues, this was considered to be black magic. Well, if one is willing to accept Aleister Crowley's definition of Magick, that being change in conformity to the will of the operator, then this too is Magick and, let us be honest, much of the material in this book will be called black magic. I make no apology for this. In the real world it is often necessary to use dreadful methods to achieve desirable ends and I am convinced by my reading of history that the ends do truly justify the means. This may come as a shock to my friends who cannot understand how such a philosophy can be stated by one who espouses universal brotherhood. For them I will only answer that it was not the pacifists who defeated the Nazis, but good, kind men who realized that they had to become killers. There is nothing as pleasing to the soul of tyrant as a pacifist and when the lion lies down with lamb, you may rest certain that the lamb is inside the lion. Do not be fooled by the unfortunate examples of Ghandi and Martin Luther King. Neither of them faced Stalin which is a pair of the great misfortunes of history. It took the Chinese at Tianamenn Square (spelling) to finally put paid to the idea that non-violence will always work. This book, therefore, is not one which will win me any awards from those who think that to be harmless is to practice virtue. This is not a study to be undertaken by the squeamish. The methods I will describe are quite simple and yet some of them can be devastating beyond belief. But the degree of the attacking force is under the control of the operator and it is not always necessary to use a sledgehammer to kill an ant, good nasty fun though that may be. Here are two stories of psychic combat, one which worked and one which ultimately did not. They illustrate why it is important to know what one is doing and have a clear idea of what one wishes to achieve. I had at one time a neighbor, who in the course of his marriage, had the bad luck to be afflicted with offspring, and, due to undoubtedly bad judgment in on his part in not selling them off to the South Africans for medical experiments, they grew into late adolescence. To be fair to my neighbor, he did not know what a horror he had created, but as if this were not bad enough, one of them, in spite of much good counsel from his elders, decided that he had an ear for music and wished to make his living as a rock musician and, yes, I know that is an oxymoron. To make a bad situation worse, he formed a band and used my neighbor's garage for a practice site. As he and his friends drowned out the jets looking for O'Hare Field, my other neighbors and I were fervently wishing for a nuclear attack to return peace and quiet to our lives. Adding to these difficulties was the fact that I genuinely liked his father. He is a good, honest man, albeit with a tendency to gossip, who had helped me push my car out of the snow and was always ready to loan his tools and offer advice on the arcane mystery of killing crabgrass. Therefore, hiring a gangster to kill off his children was not what would be termed a viable solution. Not that I did not consider it, mind you! However, just as the garage was becoming a mecca for the local riff-raff and it seemed that the very bricks of the house were going to crumble from the noise, I began to work with something called disruption patterns (which I will explain in some detail at the appropriate point in this volume) and used my first radionic box to transmit such a pattern at the garage. This I did for several days while watching the level in the aspirin bottle fall and wondering if the damned thing was ever going to work. Then something truly miraculous happened-- quiet. For the first evening in months there was an all-pervasive stillness broken only by the outraged cry of a baby sitter whose young charge had lost the key to the handcuffs. What had happened? Had my neighbor finally regained his senses and shipped his son off to the merchant marine? No, I am afraid the answer was much simpler. The man living next door to the neighbor had endured the racket for some time without complaint. This seeming aberration may have been due in some part to his being hard of hearing. But, in any event, he decided that he had enough and called upon his own attendant spirits in the form of the local constabulary. They explained the situation to the band and any opprobrium from the incident fell upon the man next door rather than myself. All things considered, it was a very satisfactory conclusion to the situation. As you can see, the primary purpose of the operation was the elimination of a considerable nuisance with as little trouble to myself as possible. It was not necessary to cause a Boeing 747 to kamikaze itself into my neighbor's garage and, given the physical proximity of that garage to my property, such a result would have been extremely counter- productive. It might have meant a wing in my living room! Bear this in mind when looking at my next example, for it is a story which details all the things I want you to learn to avoid. There are many legends surrounding the frozen hills of Tibet and if we look at the distinct lack of success the Tibetans have had in the last century, first against the British and then against the Chinese, it must be reasonably assumed that the arts which were behind the legends were either lost or extremely exaggerated. Bearing this in mind, look at the next story as a tale illustrative of a method gone wrong rather than as a true incident. The Tibetan sage Milarepa did not have an easy youth. His father died when he was a boy and his paternal uncle, as nasty a relative as ever ruined dinner, laid claim to his father's lands, driving the young Milarepa, his mother and his sister from their home and virtually reducing them to the status of beggars. As one may well expect, this caused no small amount of bitterness and his mother waited for the day when her son would be old enough to seek vengeance upon the uncle. When Milarepa grew to young manhood, full of energy but apparently not very bright, the time came that he went forth from his village to seek a guru who would instruct him in the art of killing evil relatives. He travelled around for a while and eventually ran into two other seekers after power who were going to study under a famous sorcerer known as Lama Yungtun-Trogyal, which translates as "Wrathful and Victorious Teacher of Evil." This worthy accepted the young Milarepa and his companions as pupils and taught them certain useful rituals and methods of Tibetan magic which, while satisfying his fellow scholars left Milarepa with the distinct feeling that something important had been left out, like how to kill his uncle. When the time came for the students to return to the outside world, there to practice evil magic and bring more pupils to their Wrathful and Victorious teacher, Milarepa stayed behind. When asked why he was still hanging around the lamasery, Milarepa told his teacher that he was certain that there was more to be learned from him and added that if he returned to his home without the means to complete his sacred mission his mother would kill herself in his presence. The teacher was greatly impressed with the zeal of this one student (though he probably thought his mother was an idiot) and sent another pupil, who was as swift as a horse and as strong as a yak and dumb as an ox, to Milarepa's home village to find out if the story of his vile uncle was true. In due course the spy returned to corroborate the story and the teacher agreed that Milarepa was deserving of better instruction, being almost moved to tears by the tale of woe and injustice. There was only one very small difficulty in furthering the education of the young sorcerer. It seems that the secret of destroying large numbers of people was no longer available to the present instructor. He had, some years before, given it to a close friend and had neglected to make a back-up copy for himself. Thus Milarepa was sent off to a new teacher. Upon arriving at the new teacher's home, Milarepa presented the traditional (for Tibetans) scarf and a letter from his former guru detailing the situation and recommending Milarepa for instruction. The new teacher was also much moved by the tale of woe and immediately agreed to begin instructing the young man. Milarepa was told to build a hermitage for his operations, and then taught what was necessary for his work, the details of which are left out of the biography, obviously lest someone use them without paying his guru. This operation should normally have taken seven days, but, as the target village was some distance, Milarepa asked for seven additional days. The teacher, unwilling to hurt his pupil's feelings by explaining to him that the deities involved did not travel by yak, allowed this and on the fourteenth day Milarepa was rewarded by a vision of those deities bearing him a gift of 35 heads and hearts, which was not a bad haul in the days before stealth bombers, nuclear warheads and chemical plants. A day later the deities returned, to Milarepa's undoubted surprise, and said that two victims had escaped and wondered if he would like them to finish the job. Milarepa, thinking that if he left those two alive fear of him would spread across the land, told the deities to leave them alone. The two happened to be his aunt and uncle, precisely the ones Milarepa wanted dead in the first place. It seems that the great sage was too stupid to ask which two had survived. Meanwhile, back at the village... On the day that Milarepa completed his operation, the eldest son of his uncle was about to be married. The wedding feast was packed with his uncle's friends and supporters, his other sons and the bride. In short, all of Milarepa's enemies were present in one place. A maid went out to fetch some water and ran in fright as the family livestock and horses went berserk, with the end result being that a horse kicked down one of the main pillars supporting the house and whole building fell down, slaughtering those inside. Upon seeing this disaster, Milarepa's mother was siezed with a fit of joy and, making a flag out of some of the family rags, ran around the village shouting the praises of her sorcerer son. This act, for obvious reasons, did not exactly endear her to those who had lost family in the wreckage and their response could be expressed in two words, "Kill Her!" This may well have occurred had not some of smarter ones of the village prevailed, realizing that her son, who, after all, was the reputed cause of the trouble, was still in good health and might not look with favor upon such rash action. Thus it was that the cry became "Kill him first!" As finding the sorcerer would take some time, all plans of reprisal were put off and Milarepa's mother, who apparently knew where her son was, took advantage of the lull in the fighting to send a message to her son warning him of the danger and asking him to send such a disaster to the village that none would ever forget it. Milarepa received the warning and showed it to his teacher who remarked that his pupil had a very unpleasant mother and may even have considered advising Milarepa to forget the whole thing and let the crazy old bat kill herself anyway. Nevertheless, Milarepa had to learn a more powerful spell and thus was sent back to old Wrathful and Victorious. This teacher welcomed his previous and possibly best pupil with open arms and proceeded to instruct him in the ancient and honorable art of making hailstorms, an ancient Tibetan custom. With the other student as an assistant, the one who had been sent to determine the truth of Milarepa's story, Milarepa, disguised as a pilgrim, returned to a hill overlooking his old village. On the top of the hill he set up his apparatus. It was a moment that he had waited some time for. His teacher asked him how high the barley was, and when told that it was just starting to grow, had said to wait. Again the question was asked, and again Milarepa was told to wait. But finally the barley crop was waiting to be harvested. As the ripe fields awaited the reapers, before the grain could be harvested, Milarepa performed his ritual and the sky opened. Three massive hail storms struck the village with a force so great that all the barley was destroyed (Kaboom! Blast! Destroy!) and the village faced a long, hungry winter. The fact that his mother and sister were still living there and would share in the general distress must have slipped his mind. After this success, Milarepa returned to his old teacher and, instead of pursuing what could have been a very lucrative career as a rainmaker, decided to try for enlightenment instead. It was probably just as well because Milarepa, if one judges by his biography, was too heavenly minded to be any earthly good. As for his mother, who instilled such a strong desire for vengeance in her son, she became an outcast and did not much profit from her revenge and his sister, whom none would marry (hardly surprising when one considers the in-laws!) and faced with the somewhat limited options open to women in eleventh century Tibet, became a wandering beggar. In fact, this whole tale seems to illustrate a saying of my father, that the only difference between a saint and an idiot is that the saint has a press agent. I have gone on at some length with this story because, as I said, it is a good illustration of the sort of thing which you must avoid in psychic combat. There was first the tendency to overkill. All Milarepa wanted to do was eliminate his aunt and uncle. Instead, he took out a goodly portion of the village and ultimately its food supply, while the uncle and aunt were left unharmed. He never thought of tailoring his response to the situation. I mean, I like a good, destroyed village as much as the next person, but he did have to consider the matter of his sister at least. His mother obviously would have been no loss to anyone. Milarepa was also cursed by the hyperactive mouth of his mother, who, if she had been able to keep from flapping her jaws so much, might have come to a better end herself instead of becoming a hungry beggar. Finally, as the biography relates, both Milarepa and his teacher had a fit of guilt after the affair which frankly makes no sense to me, but then I'm not a Tibetan. I don’t even LIKE Alice Bailey. The story also gives us an indirect lesson as well, for the uncle was also foolish. Upon hearing that his nephew had left town with but one purpose in mind the uncle should have seen to his defenses, as should all of his supporters. This was not done. It is, after all, one thing to avoid paranoia, but quite another thing entirely to leave the door unlocked and a sign outside that says "Burglars Welcome!". It is my hope that this book will teach not only how to engage in psychic warfare, but also how to avoid the mistakes that so often accompany it. Begin by reading the entire book and studying its contents. Then go back and practice what it teaches and above all else, think. There is no better way to keep one's head than by using it. Besides, you look real funny with an empty space over your shoulders. But enough of this merriment. Read on and let the battles begin!