I have two dogs for whom I have the warmest
affection. They both have long standing
allergies which are a great source of discomfort both to me and my wife, and to
them, of course. In my attempts to find
something that will relieve their itching (we have tried everything) I decided
to give holographic reprogramming a try.
Holographic reprogramming is based on the theory that all
life has a program set by nature that needs to be balanced or in harmony – something like that. Allergies are caused by something being out
of line in the hologram that represents that life form. Bringing the hologram into alignment by
repatterning will cure the allergy, as the theory goes. This putative hologram, being inaccessible
by physical means, can only be repatterned through immaterial processes – the kind that the mind possesses.
Being driven to desperation by the constant torment of my
dogs reflected in their incessant scratching day and night, I was moved to try
even extraordinary means since more conventional methods had failed to provide
any relief. I contacted a holographic
reprogrammer through my vet (who must have been embarrassed to know such a
person) and set up an appointment for our dogs to be seen.
When she arrived, the reprogramming practitioner
explained the basics which I have described above, indicated that her fee was
$50, and we began the session. We
focused on Neelix, the dog that was most afflicted. Moving her hand close along his body and passing near certain
critical junctions she emitted a soft diagnostic hum. She explained she could tell by the resonance of the hum when it
reflected off Neelix’s joints whether there was a problem. At several points she uttered her diagnostic
evaluations in the matter-of-fact tone of one who is totally confident of the
truth of her assertions.
“Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm. Yes, there’s a
problem here…yes, his hips are out of line with his hologram…Hmmmmmmmmmm…his shoulders
are ok…neck is slightly misaligned…”
The reprogrammer covered his entire body with her humming and then
without fanfare proceeded to bring those misaligned parts of the hologram into
harmonious realignment with a curative hum.
This took considerably more humming and some joints were more
intractable than others, requiring 2 or 3 exposures to the healing hum. After every curative hum the reprogrammer
conscientiously checked her work by opposing her 4th finger with her
thumb and exerting pressure. As she
later explained, if the finger popped past the thumb with a certain amount of
pressure it meant the reprogramming had been accomplished.
After the process was completed we were assured that
Neelix’s hologram was now totally repatterned in the way nature had meant it to
be and that his symptoms should be less severe in the next few weeks. We were cautioned however that misalignment
could recur over time and that he might need more treatments in the
future. But for now he should be much
improved.
Of course the extraordinary nature of this treatment was
not lost on me and, my curiosity piqued, I pressed for explanatory
details.
“How do you know Neelix has been repatterned?” I
asked. She went through the fourth
finger against the thumb method again.
“So you can tell what Neelix’s internal states are?”
“Yes.”
And then the big one:
“Can you tell what he is thinking and feeling with this finger popping
technique?”
“Yes.”
“So, can I ask you questions about his mental states?”
“Yes, but they must be yes or no questions.”
Well, here was a chance for some questions that could
empirically verify the validity of this procedure.
“Ok. Can you ask
Neelix if he always lets Data (his brother) go out the door first because he is
respecting Data’s status as the alpha dog?”
By this time Neelix had retired to his kennel in the
bedroom and I apprised her of this, but she assured me that she could query
Neelix even though he wasn’t in the immediate vicinity.
She did the finger test and when it popped past the thumb
with hardly any pressure she pronounced the answer in her matter-of-fact
certainty tone: “Yes.”
Well, now, this was anomalous. In fact Neelix always went out the door first. My empirical data on this was
unequivocal: There had never been a
time when the door was opened for both of them that Neelix did not shoulder his
way past Data to be the first out. I
held my peace thinking that this may be a single error that was not indicative
of the reprogrammer’s true capability to divine the mental contents of my dogs’
minds. After all, few things work 100%
of the time.
“Well, will you ask Neelix if the reason he sometimes
snaps at us is because he wants to be left alone?”
Again the finger broke free from the thumb.
“Yes.”
This was getting curiouser and curiouser (as Alice would
say). Neelix, in the four years we have
had him, has never snapped at us for any reason. We have awakened him from a sound sleep to
move him, we have taken food out of his mouth, we have held him firmly while
the vet invaded his personal space to squeeze out his anal glands and never
has he emitted even a threatening growl, let alone snapped at us.
By this time I had demonstrated to myself that
this programmer was full of shit (the off color content of this word is
necessary here to convey the extreme disdain I felt for this chicanery) and was
hardly worth the $50 we were paying her.
(I couldn’t help feeling some sympathy for those gullible dolts who had
given this charlatan money in expectation of a cure for their pets.) Still, I pressed on with a courtesy borne of
her being a guest in my house.
“Now, how do you know that this reprogramming works?” I
asked in my most benign inquisitive voice.
“People tell me it works.”
“But maybe they are just responding to their
expectations. Do you have any empirical
evidence? Have you done any controlled
experiments and measured the outcomes?”
“No. I don’t have to.
I know it works.”
“But how do you know?”
“Well, I can’t tell you any more that. My clients seem to think it works and I can
feel that it works. I don’t have to
prove it to anyone – and I don’t want
to. You can believe it or not.”
At that point I paid the $50 and with a forced politeness
ushered this non-critical thinking idiot out of my house. On the way to the door I could hear Neelix (bless
his heart!) in his kennel still scratching as frantically as ever. Later in reflection I wondered about the
gullibility of people that support charlatans like this. Don’t they learn critical thinking in
school? – Obviously not!
(I hasten to add that I thought the experience could be
used didactically and for that reason alone did I agree to pay the $50.)