![]() MIND GAMES
Uri Geller is in the building. This much is clear from the tell-tale trail of mangled spoons on the bar of the pub around the corner. We chose the venue for the interview after a rigorous selection process, in the end deciding the upstairs room in the Blue Posts, the local Soho boozer, offered the kind of clinical laboratory conditions in which we could put his powers to the test. We arrived armed with a dose of healthy scepticism and a healthy selection of cutlery. Upstairs the celebrated paranormalist was holding court with a man from Isle of Wight radio, apparently having already fixed the room's dicky clock by shouting " 1 -2-3 work!" at it. In the interests of scientific objectivity we sought out the pub's barmaid and asked her if the clock had worked before. She couldn't remember. The reason we are here is simple. Bored of being best known as that man who bends spoons, Uri Geller has entered the world of complementary medicine. In his new book, Mind Medicine, he argues that we all have the ability to fight off and prevent illnesses using what he calls 'mindpower'. "I've never been sick in my entire life," he says. "I must be doing something right. I'm 53 and still have my hair, I cycle 28 miles a day. I think I've found something - a mix of mindpower, the way I live and the way I eat." You're sceptical, go on, admit it. It's the rational response. The instinctual reaction to Uri Geller and his supposed telekinetic prowess is a dismissive shake of the head. Surely he is just some kind of metal-rubbing charlatan. A modern day snake-oil salesman. A well-presented side show that has somehow escaped the circus. Nothing more. Certainly nothing that is genuinely challenging scientifically derived conceptions of what earthlings can and can't do. Problem is Geller is one charlatan who is not so easy to dismiss. Psyche out your ailments Geller claims he helped England in Euro '96 by mentally moving the ball a split second before Gary McAllister struck his ill-fated penalty in the match against Scotland. He wants you to stop taking so many pharmaceutical drugs and psyche out your ailments like you would the opposition's danger man on a Sunday morning. Easier said than done, especially as said danger man has a nasty habit of ignoring your countermeasures and putting four past you.
Aware of the suspicion that it would attract, he's keen to put the information of his book into perspective. "I wanted to be very down to earth and to offer conventional and unconventional methods people rarely use. I laughed at nuel meditation ten years ago. Then I learnt it from a Tibetan monk and it worked for me. Once I started to research the area I realised I'd been using visualisation for years. This is what I'm writing about.' A book about alternative healing written by a controversial paranormalist in an era of miracle drugs such as Prozac and Viagra sounds about as viable as a bikini wholesalers in Siberia. Recent research, however, shows increasing numbers of people entering a world once stigmatised as the refuge of quacks, crusties and the bored middle-classes. Around one third of the British population are now estimated to use herbal and alternative remedies.
Possessed by demons In his book Geller traces our changing attitudes to sickness throughout history. In the Dark Ages illness was seen in superstitious terms, with victims often believed to be possessed. Post-Enlightenment, logic prevailed, and science now provides cures in the form of drugs. The problem for Geller is that we have become lazily dependent and are not doing enough for ourselves.
But what exactly is this 'force', and how can non-spoon benders tap into it? "While science looks for reason, often faith is what is required," says Geller. Which sounds scarily like the start of a religious sermon, but he says this faith is more directed towards the self: "it doesn't matter whether you pray in a church, temple or synagogue, if you believe in something then that will make you a healthier person. Get in touch with whatever is within you'
I admit that up to this point I'd been finding all this pretty hard to stomach. Uri earlier mentioned being mates with Michael Jackson and you can't help but think of two slightly weird pdople together. Parts of the book remind me of the self-help quizzes in women's magazines ("mostly C's - yes you are neurotic") and contain pictures of mountain ranges with calming affirmations like the posters sad and lonely people at college used to put on their walls. But Uri is a very persuasive man. He speaks with conviction, with the calmness of a priest and the stare of a hypnotist. I fear he might be influencing my thought patterns and duly avoid eye contact, but simple thoughts are flooding in and dilating my opticism. That there's a link between your state of mind and your physical wellbeing is well established. Linford Christie and Lennox Lewis have used focusing and visualisation to spur them to greater athletic heights. Isn't it likely the mind could be used similarly to influence health? It's hard to be objective since most theories about the more abstract things in life are impossible to prove. Even the Health Education Authority recently released a report which concluded that spiritual belief can be good for your mental health. And if Uri Geller is merely a magician, he's done a damn sight better than Paul Daniels. As if to underline the point, he starts bending by a spoon for us. He's barely tickling it. He puts it into the photographer's hand and it keeps bending. He then asks me to draw something while he's got his back to me and the photographer makes sure he's got his eyes closed. Once done, he asks me to stare at him while thinking of what it was. He then does his own sketch - a flower, which matches the one I'd drawn almost perfectly in dimension. Cue speechlessness from a cynical journalist and sceptical photographer. We had witnessed the unknown in action. All this doesn't necessarily make his book right, but it's impossible to deny the man does have strange powers. Uri Geller is 'out there'. In an instant he had caused a metaphorical sex change and I'd gone from Dana Scully to Fox Mulder in an instant. I want to believe.
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