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Brenda Rule ( sends us:

I attend Clark College in Vancouver, Washington. In my English class, the professor gave us a few options for writing a 1000 word essay paper. One of the options was writing a tribute to someone. So, I thought about it for a couple days and I chose to write a paper on you and Coast To Coast. I wanted to fax the paper with her glowing note attached, Superb Essay , so you could see I received more points than the paper was worth, 28 out of a possible 25, but could not find a current fax number. I guess she likes you too.

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Somewhere out there bouncing off spinning and undulating satellites, an electromagnetic wave propagated by an antenna beams its way into my time zone and crashes into my eardrum, causing my anticipation to soar. The news broadcaster enthusiastically concludes, This is your 50,000 watt, hometown radio station, Newsradio 1190, KEX." In the audible distance, the faint driving reverberation of "The Chase", from the movie soundtrack of Midnight Express, crescendos to a deafening thunderclap and HE bursts forth, From the High Desert and the Great American Southwest, I bid you good evening, good morning, good afternoon, wherever you may be in the world of twenty-four time zones. I am Art Bell and this is Coast To Coast. Welcome to the strangest show on radio and I think, the best.

No argument there, Art. When I hear the panpipes and quenas of the Chilean mountain bumper music, my heart starts to flutter and I turn downright giddy. Has Planet X been spotted? Has that guy in Northwest Washington taken that alien out of his deep freezer yet? Is it going to be genetic manipulation, plasma fields, Vatican intrigue, Sumerian texts, ancient civilizations, secret societies, Martian architecture or Area 51 that sends me clamoring under the covers for protection? Will I meet the Shadow People while I'm under there?

I love Art. I love his voice, his manner, his monetarily uncompensated guests. I am in love with what he gives me. Like a woman caller never hesitates to add, I go to bed with Art every night. Well, scoot over honey, because I do too.

I unabashedly confess it is purely a give-and-take relationship. Art gives; I take. And all that he asks is that I support his sponsors: a nutrition supplement here, a deep space telescope there. I sap everything I can from Art, like a leech on a leg. Sometimes the blood is bitter and hard to swallow. But then, oh then, sometimes it is sweet like honey, dripping down my throat coating every microbial cell in its path until it becomes a part of me, awaking the very synapses in my brain, forcing those little neurotransmitters to work overtime, to expand and grow.

I have been listening to Art Bell for over eleven years. The man has fostered in me a desire for intellectual expansion like no four hours of Rush ever did. Art considers himself a conduit of knowledge. Sitting out in the middle of the Nevadan desert, hooked up to every type of radio and antennae known to the modern world, Art will be the first to tell you that he doesn t necessarily believe everything everybody espouses on his program. He believes he was destined to provide a forum for the unbelievable but true and for the unbelievable but hard-to-believe.

My favorite all-time guest was Father Malachi Martin, an Irish exorcist (among other accomplishments) who died under mysterious circumstances in 1999. He received doctorates in the Semitic languages, archeology and Oriental history. He studied at Oxford and at the Hebrew University in Jerusalem. Between 1958 and 1964, he was advisor to the Pope at the Vatican in Rome. On one particular all-nighter trip, traveling west from Texas across the New Mexican desert to California, I read aloud by overhead car light to my driving husband, Malachi Martin s Hostage to the Devil. Two o'clock in the morning, pitch-black void, not another car, light, house, snake or bug in sight, reading about documented demon possession. I don't remember to what speed Steven was able to push that car, but SETI reported a low-altitude UFO on Route 66 that night. Father Martin told Art during one program, that another book he penned, Windswept House, was 85% true. I'll let you in on a not-so-secret, secret. If even 15% of the book is true I am ready to join a Tibetan monastery and learn how to astral project myself right off the face of this planet.

Another frequent guest is Dr. Michio Kaku, who is an internationally recognized authority in theoretical physics. Graduating number one in his physics class from Harvard in 1968, this man is not one whom non-Art-listeners would imagine to hear on Coast To Coast. He received a Ph.D. from the University of California at Berkeley Radiation Laboratory in 1972 and is currently serving time at the City University of New York, where he s been a professor of theoretical physics for twenty-five years. He mesmerizes Art's audience with current theories of parallel universes, time travel, the tenth dimension (and you thought there were three), black holes, and multiple universes.

And what about frequent guest Richard C. Hoagland, a former NASA consultant and, during the historic Apollo Missions to the moon, science advisor to Walter Cronkite and CBS News? Is there some type of cellular life on Mars? Richard C. Hoagland thinks so. Are there mathematically correct and obvious non-happenstance pyramids on Mars similar to those in Egypt? Richard C. Hoagland thinks so. Is the Jet Propulsion Laboratory in Pasadena, California telling us the truth when it comes to photographs of Mars? I'm wondering. Was Earth settled by the life forms that abandoned Mars? Was it intelligent life? Looking at some of the celebrities in today's news, one would doubt it. You may think it sounds crazy to contemplate the stuff of 1950 s science-fiction comic books, but how do you think Sitting Bull, medicine man and chief of the Lakotas, would react if he saw the B-2 Stealth Bomber flying over his head with nary a sound? I thought so.

And this is what Art has given me. My mind is not confined to a little box. I do not have a set parameter within which I allow my mind to wander. I am willing to consider the unimaginable and, dare I say, the unthinkable. Intellectual freedom is the stuff that mothers experiments and discoveries; the stuff that truly humbles. Thank you, Art.

Well, folks, there you have it; a real, live, witch, Dr. Evelyn Paglini. This is Art Bell for Coast to Coast. Good-night.