Did Russian psychics throw the 2016 election?
He was perhaps the most fascinating person I had ever encountered. Recently, we met at a small Armenian restaurant in the suburbs of Washington, D.C.
He seemed to be speaking with a Slavic accent while engaged on a smartphone.
At the conclusion of his conversation, I introduced myself as a columnist from a West Coast newspaper conglomerate.
The middle-aged man’s stare was bone-chilling. His dark eyes pierced through me, as I stood there and shook from a sudden chill.
I didn’t know what to say. My jaw froze, and I couldn’t speak. Yet paradoxically, there was an unexplained feeling of comradery between us.
“You and I have not met by chance,” the strange man said. “I see your thoughts, and I know what is on your mind. You want to know about the 2016 election.”
There has been so much babble in the media about a former Soviet power fixing the outcome, my thoughts actually were contemplating that very subject.
“If you want to know how we did it, I’m not at liberty to tell you, but follow me.”
We entered his room at the swanky Wisconsin Avenue highrise hotel. He said nothing, as I found myself observing the view from the 11th floor.
The next thing I knew, he was in a lotus position on the bed closest to the entrance door. With palms
up, he began staring at the north wall and taking deep breaths.
After a few minutes, I was startled by a rumbling noise. The room began to shake, as if a minor earthquake were happening. The television turned itself on and numerals on a digital clock began spinning. Soon the phone rang. I answered it, but no one was there.
Eventually, things settled down, and the mystifying figure came out of his trance. He turned to me and said, “Well, now do you get it?”
“Get what?” I asked with a Stan Laurel look on my face.
“I would call you an idiot, but I’m not going to state the obvious,” he replied.
“Are you telling me you guys used psychic powers to throw the election?” I enquired.
“You Americans are foolishly years behind our telepathic research, While you’ve been obsessed with inequality, gender identity, and wondering if your thighs make you look fat, we have been in touch with the cosmos.”
He excused himself for the restroom and closed the door. I noticed a black binder on a nearby bed and began to thumb through it. Although it was written in strange symbols, I seemed to understand every word — even though I had no personal knowledge of the language.
On page 12 was a description on how they had managed, via telekinesis, to “spin” voting machines in several so-called “blue” states from locations thousands
“You Americans are foolishly years behind our telepathic research, While you’ve been obsessed with inequality, gender identity, and wondering if your thighs make you look fat, we have been in touch with the cosmos.”
of miles away.
Suddenly, I jumped when I felt a tap on my shoulder.
“Well, now you know,” he softly spoke.
“But there is so much more I want to know,” I said. “Does our Congress realize this?”
“Surely, you must be joking,” he laughed. “Your ‘Congress’ can’t find the keys to their own restrooms. That’s why many members seem to be ‘all wet,’ ha, ha — a little Eastern European humor.”
I told him I couldn’t wait to get back home and write my story. He said “go ahead,” but warned that no one would believe it.
The man was right. As much as I tried to get the piece published, interest was naught.
So now, after this startling experience, a haunting question remains: Will my tale eventually end up lost in the void of cyberspace, or will I finally be vindicated when the results of the next presidential election become reality?
It seems only a strange psychic from the old Soviet Union really knows for sure.