Finding the Wild God: A Conversation with Poet and Storyteller Tom Hirons

In a world that feels increasingly disconnected from the natural world, poet and storyteller Tom Hirons has made it his life’s work to reconnect people with their inner wildness. In a wide-ranging interview, he shared his fascinating journey from a frustrated writer to a poet who finds his voice in the wilderness, and the profound meaning behind his work.

Tom’s path to poetry was not a conventional one. He spent his early twenties "trying to write novels and become a great hero of literary fiction" before transitioning to graphic novels and then to poetry. The pivotal moment came in his early 30s when he did a wilderness fast on the slopes of Cadair Idris in Snowdonia. After this profound experience, poetry became the only language that made sense to him, and he found that something had "happened where poetry was the language that made sense to talk about the kind of experiences I was going through." He continues this ancient practice today, believing it keeps his language from becoming "thin and modern and cardboardy." He even connected his own experience to the tradition of Taghairm—a Scottish practice of lying in a freshly flayed bullock's hide behind a waterfall to seek inspiration.

This deep connection to nature is the heart of his most famous poem, "Sometimes a Wild God." Tom believes the poem’s magic lies in its ability to "wake up old parts of our soul" that are buried under the "veneer of modernity." He describes how his own inspiration for the poem came from a line he was sure he had read somewhere but could not find. In his conception, he was lucky enough to "catch a glimpse of something in the other world that was resonant enough for me" and had worked on his skills to "be able to follow and lay down in this world." For him, this is not just a theory; it's a personal truth. He recounted a powerful story from his childhood in the "Saints" villages of East Anglia: he and his mother saw a figure with the body of a man and the head of a deer. He says simply, "All I know is that when I was seven years old, I saw a God in a field."

Today, as society grapples with its disconnection from nature, Tom sees the archetypes of the "Wild God" and the Green Man as a figure of hope. He talks about his relationship with the land he lives on, Dartmoor, which he describes as a "great shaggy beast" that still "eats people." He says, "The spirits of the land, they're still vocal." He feels that through practices that dissolve the boundaries between us and the wild—from hiking ancient tracks to something as profound as a wilderness fast—we can find our "soul kernel," and get on with the important work of living. Ultimately, Tom says his goal as a poet is to "bring a twitch of a smile or a raised eyebrow to the Queen of Heaven," a mythological figure he writes for, and to leave something for his sons to show "this is who I really was when I wasn't just being your dad."

A Listener's Close Encounter: The Falkirk Triangle and a 1997 UFO Sighting

Sometimes, the most compelling stories aren't those we go looking for, but the ones that find us. That’s exactly what happened when we received a message from a listener named Ruth. After listening to our episode on the Falkirk Triangle, an area of Scotland notorious for its UFO activity, she felt compelled to share her own close encounter from 1997. Her testimony is a powerful reminder that the unexplained is not just a subject of historical record, but a living reality for many.

The Sighting

The journey was meant to be a simple drive from Norfolk to Scotland. It was just after midnight when Ruth, driving with her boyfriend, spotted a curious light in the distance near signs for a nuclear power station. At first, it appeared as a small, Malteser-shaped, silvery light, bouncing and skimming the fields erratically. In a split second, the small light was gone, replaced by a massive, silent, and brightly lit object hovering directly above their car. It was described as so large that it filled the entire sky, with countless lights all over it.

Ruth, surprisingly, felt a sense of excitement and wanted to stop to get a closer look. Her boyfriend, however, was terrified, screaming at her to keep going. Just as Ruth's excitement faded into a nervous shiver, the craft took off "like a flea" and was gone instantly.

Decades of Reflection

The experience was so profound that Ruth and her boyfriend talked about nothing else for months. The very next day, a date forever etched in her memory, Princess Diana died. This gave Ruth a firm timeline for the event, but it would be years before she truly began to process it.

Ruth’s search for answers led her to the UFO organization MUFON. A UFO investigator from the group attempted to "catch her out" by claiming there was no nuclear power station in the area. Ruth, however, proved him wrong by locating the Torness nuclear power station, which was exactly where she remembered seeing the signs. She also realized her sighting had occurred within the infamous Falkirk Triangle, an area with a high number of UFO reports during that period.

Today, Ruth feels a duty to share her story, believing that others have had similar experiences and that this is the right time to speak out. She speculates that the craft was interested in the nuclear power station and may have reacted to her change of heart about stopping.

Her story is a powerful reminder that our universe holds far more mysteries than we can possibly imagine, and that the strange and unexplainable continue to find their way into our lives.

Do you have a story? Let us know via email wyrdwessex@pm.me

Modern Wyrd: From Ghost Lights to Fake Secrets

The world today seems intent on proving that the "wyrd" is not just a thing of ancient history and folklore. From the shores of the English coast to the heart of an American city, the strange and unexplained continue to appear, tantalising us with the possibility of the supernatural. Yet, in our modern age of skepticism, these mysteries often come with a twist—a rational, and sometimes mundane, explanation.

Take, for instance, the case of the Margate "sea monster." Beachgoers were spooked by what looked like a bizarre skeletal mermaid hybrid washed up on the shore. Photos showed a skeletal head with a "soft and squidgy" body, and the strange find quickly became a local sensation. As speculation grew, from Nessie to a new species, the truth was far less fantastical. The object was later revealed to be an art installation or a model, a modern piece of flotsam rather than a living, breathing cryptid.

Across the Atlantic, a similar story of a mystery with a terrestrial explanation unfolded in The Ghost Lights of Somerville, South Carolina. For over 70 years, people have reported seeing mysterious "ghost lights" along an old railway track. Local legend held that the lights were the lanterns of a woman's ghost, searching for her husband's head after a fatal train accident. But a seismologist has a more grounded theory: "earthquake lights." These glowing orbs have been reported around the world during seismic activity, believed to be the result of underground gases ignited by the friction of moving rocks. The lights in Somerville, she argues, coincided with a series of small, unrecognisable earthquakes.

Perhaps the most modern example of our fascination with the mysterious is the tale of The Central Park Papers. A website appears, promising a secret of great historical importance, hidden in New York's Central Park by its co-designer in 1895. The site claims a set of coded papers can lead you to this secret, but only if you promise not to reveal it for 10 years. What seems like a fantastic, historical mystery quickly dissolves under scrutiny. The secret is nothing more than a complex treasure hunt, and a closer look reveals that clues and "deciphering tools" can be purchased for a fee, exposing the entire "historical secret" as a modern-day money-making scheme.

Whether it’s a spooky find on the beach, a ghost story with a scientific twist, or a historical secret that turns out to be a fiction, our desire to believe in the strange remains. We continue to seek out the "wyrd," even if it’s just in the form of a good story.

Of Wyrms, Wyverns & Dragons

A dragon, attracted to the evil in the air, made its lair beneath a hill in the town of Brent Pelham. But since everything had already been burned and stolen by the Conqueror, it turned its greedy eyes on the village itself, setting everything ablaze. The villagers, desperate, hid in the stone church and wrote a letter to their lord, Piers Shonks, who was away fighting in William's wars.

Piers, a skeptic, returned with his Saxon servant, Alfred, and was shocked to see the devastation. They discovered a giant reptilian footprint, a clear sign that this was no ordinary fire. Piers, a renowned hunter and warrior, promised his people he would slay the beast. He rode towards the dragon's lair with his hounds and his servant.

A great ball of fire shot from the cave, and Piers was ready. But his horse, terrified, threw him from the saddle. Piers drew his sword and hurled it directly at the beast. The sword caught the sunlight as it spun through the air and struck the beast square in the chest. It roared and writhed in pain, but this only seemed to make it angrier, and a third ball of fire came soaring towards the knight.

Piers rolled and ducked behind a boulder, his armour and weapons gone, his village and its people in danger. All seemed lost, but then he heard it. "Beastie, come and get me over here!" Alfred, his servant, was waving his own discarded lance, trying to lure the dragon. The monster turned its ire upon the servant.

Piers seized his chance, running onto the dragon's tail and climbing its back. Alfred threw his spear true, and Piers, catching the weapon, plunged it down the beast’s throat. The monster roared one last time and tumbled to the ground, dead.

The townsfolk cheered, but their joy was short-lived as another figure emerged from the cave. This was no dragon, but a being with a cloak that shimmered like flame, a figure with cloven hooves and two horns. "Curse you, knight!" the figure sneered, his bony finger jabbing at Piers. "You have slain my favourite pet, but now in me your match you have met. In ten years next, my dear, dear Piers, your death shall flood Pelham in tears. Your soul will be mine, of this I have no doubt, whether you were buried in a church or out." And with that, the devil disappeared in a gout of fire.

Piers, undeterred, stayed in Pelham and worked with the townsfolk to rebuild what was lost. The work was hard, but each year, the town became stronger. As the village grew, however, Piers grew weaker. As the tenth year approached, Piers was dying, and the devil returned to claim his soul.

Piers asked for one last boon: to string his favourite hunting bow and shoot one final arrow. The devil, intrigued, agreed, and Piers drew his bow back and loosed. The arrow flew true and struck the north wall of St. Mary's Church. The knight then smiled to himself, for the curious thing about that is, if he is buried in the wall of the church, he is neither in it nor out of it. The devil had been beaten at his own game.

"Curse you, Pierce Shonks!" the devil bellowed. "You have me beat, you tricked me fair, and no more shall we meet." And with that, the devil once more disappeared in a fireball, down to hell. And with a final, victorious laugh, Piers Shonks fell dead. To this day, if you go to the north wall of St. Mary's Church, you can see the effigy of the bravest knight in Hertfordshire, who saved his town from the fires of a dragon and spared his own soul from the fires of hell.

The Dragon in the British Psyche

Dragons are more than just mythical beasts; they are a deep-seated part of our culture, an ultimate test for heroes and a reflection of our fears.

Throughout British folklore, we find different types of dragons, each with its own characteristics. The most common are the dragons—four-legged winged beasts—and the wyverns, which are smaller, two-legged, and more agile. There are also drakes, who walk on long legs, and wyrms, the wingless, crawling creatures like the one in the Lambton story. In some tales, dragons are even linked to water, like the Nucca, or even closer to birds, such as the dreaded cockatrice, a creature said to be hatched by a toad from a hen's egg. Its deadly gaze could turn a person to stone, and it could only be defeated by seeing its own reflection.

The stories of dragon slayers are just as varied as the dragons themselves. But one common thread is that these heroes are rarely commoners. They are nobles, knights, or kings, such as St. George or Piers Shonks. This is not accidental. The dragon represents an evil that is both primal and majestic, and folklore often demands that this type of evil be defeated by an exemplary, high-born good.

Dragons also serve as a powerful allegory for human flaws. They are often defined by their greed and their obsession with hoarding gold. This theme is captured perfectly in the tale of Fafnir, a dwarf who was so corrupted by his own malice and greed that he literally transformed into a dragon.

Ultimately, dragons represent the conquering of adversity. They are the final boss, the end-baddie. Their function in these stories is to tax the skill and, above all, the courage of the hero. Armies cannot defeat them; only a brave individual can. As writer G.K. Chesterton once said, "We do not tell fairy tales so that our children will think dragons existed. They already know dragons exist. We tell them fairy tales so they know dragons can be killed."

Wyrd News: Reincarnated Jesus, Questionable Beef & A Cursed Bible!

From bizarre criminal claims to disgusting culinary discoveries and strange paranormal finds, the world is full of headlines that prove truth is often stranger than fiction. This week, we're diving into a trio of stories that defy simple explanation and offer a glimpse into the bizarre underbelly of human experience.

The Reincarnated Jesus

A local news story recently reported a grim incident: a man was charged with attempted murder after stabbing another man outside a butcher shop. The case, already bizarre, took a truly "wyrd" turn when the man claimed he was the reincarnation of Jesus Christ. While this is certainly not the first time such a claim has been made, the serious nature of the crime and the mundane location add a truly surreal layer to the story.

A Horrifying Find in a Can of Stew

In a story that might make you think twice before opening your next canned meal, a customer from Wales claimed she found a "bum hole" in a tin of Aldi stewed steak. Maggie Duncan, 62, was preparing to heat the £2.90 meal on January 8th when she spotted an inch-long tube with a "puckered end." Her disgusted husband commented that it looked like a "chicken's anus."

The company apologized and explained that "gristle-like material" can occasionally occur with meat products. However, Maggie was not convinced, claiming the object "just doesn't look fit for human consumption." Stunned social media users likened the find to a "Bush Tucker trial," and Maggie even refused to serve the stewed steak to her dogs, stating that the Aldi dog meat looked more appetizing.

The Cursed Bible

Sometimes, the most compelling paranormal stories aren't those we go looking for, but those that find us. That was the case when a free book stand in a Bournemouth shopping center yielded a very old, leather-bound King James Bible. It was a beautiful but unsettling find, with an aged appearance: its spine was cracked, the thin paper was yellowed, and the gold finish on the page edges was worn away.

Inside, the Bible contained more than just scripture. A faint inscription revealed it had been gifted in 1889, and other words and numbers suggested it was part of a family tree with dates going as far back as 1828. What made the book truly "wyrd," however, was its aura. It felt heavy with history and had a palpable sense of unease. While people were looking at the other modern paperbacks in the stand, no one was touching the old Bible. This strange circumstance, combined with its worn appearance and family notes, made it feel like a truly cursed object.

The Ghost Who Gave a Testimony

In Greenbrier County, West Virginia, lies one of the most remarkable and bizarre true crime stories in history—a tale where a ghost’s testimony helped convict a murderer. It’s the story of the Greenbrier Ghost, a case that challenges our understanding of justice and the afterlife.

The story begins in 1896, with the marriage of Zona Heaster to a blacksmith named Edward Trout Shue. Though he was known for his strength and charm, Edward had a dark past. He was a convicted horse thief, and his previous marriages ended under mysterious and grim circumstances—one wife divorced him after alleged abuse, while another died from a brick that "mysteriously" fell on her head. Zona's mother, Mary Jane Heaster, harbored deep suspicions about the man from the start.

On the morning of January 22nd, 1897, tragedy struck. Edward sent a neighbor's son to his home to do chores for Zona. The boy, Anderson Jones, returned to find Zona's body on the floor, a thin trail of blood snaking from her mouth. Edward, who rushed home from his blacksmith shop, moved his wife's body to the bed and, suspiciously, put a high-collared garment around her neck. He was distraught, but refused to let the doctor near Zona’s head, claiming she was "too delicate." The doctor, unable to perform a proper examination, declared the cause of death as an "everlasting faint."

For days after Zona's burial, Mary Jane was consumed by grief and a deep-seated feeling that something was terribly wrong. Her prayers for the truth were answered when, on four consecutive nights, her daughter’s ghost appeared before her. In these visits, the spectral form of Zona, dressed in the very clothes she was buried in, revealed the truth: Edward had murdered her in a fit of rage after she had failed to cook meat for supper. Zona's ghost claimed that her husband had broken her neck by giving her a "sudden wrench" to the head. The spirit even described the crime scene and the house with remarkable accuracy, confirming details to Mary Jane that she had no way of knowing.

Convinced, Mary Jane took her case to the authorities. Despite being dismissed as a grieving mother, her persistent belief led to the exhumation of Zona's body. An autopsy revealed a chilling truth: Zona's neck had been broken, just as the ghost had said. The cause of death was a dislocation of the neck, and Dr. Knapp admitted he had been prevented from discovering the injury by Edward's interference.

The trial was one of the strangest in American legal history. The prosecution, led by attorney John A. Preston, needed to prove the case with physical evidence, but the defense focused on the supernatural claims, relentlessly trying to discredit Mary Jane's testimony. Mary Jane, however, held firm, insisting she was "wide awake" during her conversations with her daughter's spirit.

In the end, it took the jury just one hour to return a verdict of "guilty." Although some whispered that the evidence was circumstantial, the ghost’s testimony, combined with the suspicious physical evidence, was enough to seal Edward's fate. He was sentenced to life imprisonment. A few days later, a mob formed with the intention of lynching him, but a courageous local man, George M. Hurrah, and Sheriff Nickel convinced them to disband. Edward was taken to prison, where he died eight years later. The case stands as a chilling and truly wyrd reminder that sometimes, justice comes from the most unlikely of places.

Wyrd News: A New Life and an Ancient Portal

The modern world is full of strange stories that challenge our understanding of reality. From a child's unwavering memories of a past life to a legend of a real-life portal to hell, some "wyrd news" stories prove that the unexplained continues to find its way into our lives.

One case, in particular, captured the attention of many. A three-year-old boy from the Golan Heights, near the Syria-Israel border, made an astonishing claim: he remembered being murdered in a previous life. He gave chillingly precise details of the crime, including the location of his body and the murder weapon. When villagers dug, they found both a skeleton and an axe, exactly as the boy described. His story was further supported by a long red birthmark on his head, which he claimed corresponded to the fatal axe wound he suffered. As he grew older, the child even named his killer, leading to a private confession after the body and weapon were discovered.

Just as fascinating is a story that recently surfaced about a boy, no older than four or five, who insisted to his mother that "werewolves were real!" He explained that every full moon, portals to hell open in certain hidden places, and that is where the creatures emerge from. This idea is a theme that echoes throughout history, most famously in the legend of Huska Castle in the Czech Republic. Built in the 13th century, it is not a typical castle built for defense. It was built directly over a great crack in the earth—a literal "Hellmouth"—from which demons and monsters would emerge. This belief was so strong that the castle walls were built to face inward, not outward, to contain the evil within.

The Czech Republic itself has a dark, quirky charm to its folklore. The country is home to the Sedlec Ossuary, a Catholic chapel decorated with the bones of over 40,000 people. With its chandelier made of human bones and mounds of skulls, the site is a poignant reminder of death. The country's capital, Prague, also has the famous Astronomical Clock, whose creator was allegedly blinded so he couldn't build another one.

These tales remind us that the strange and unexplained are not confined to the past. Whether it’s a terrifying beast from a portal to hell or the astonishing memories of a past life, the weird is still very much a part of our world.

The Wyrd and Wonderful History of the Hoax

In a world saturated with information, it's easy to assume that hoaxes and misinformation are modern problems. Yet, as we discovered in a recent discussion, our fascination with trickery is as old as civilization itself. From ancient myths to viral internet pranks, the art of the hoax is a testament to human gullibility, wit, and our endless desire to believe in the unbelievable.

The Origins of Playful Deception

The roots of April Fool's Day are murky, but historians often point to the great Gregorian calendar switch of 1582. As much of Europe adopted the new calendar, those who continued to celebrate the New Year in late March or early April were branded "April Fools." It was a time of misinformation, where hoaxes thrived on flimsy, handwritten broadsheets. In this environment, writers like Jonathan Swift and Edgar Allan Poe used elaborate deceptions as a form of art. Swift famously faked the death of a renowned astrologer to discredit his outlandish predictions, while Poe's fictional stories, like The Unparalleled Adventure of One Hand's Fall, were so convincing they were often mistaken for factual news.

The Golden Age of Hoaxes

The 19th century ushered in a new era of audacious hoaxes, fueled by a booming newspaper industry hungry for sensational headlines. The Great Moon Hoax of 1835 had New Yorkers believing there was life on the moon, complete with graceful winged human creatures. Years later, the Cardiff Giant, a ten-foot-tall stone carving, was unearthed on a New York farm and hailed as a petrified man. It became a focal point in the debate between biblical literalism and Darwin's theories of evolution. These events show our enduring fascination with the extraordinary, especially when it challenges our existing beliefs.

The Modern Prank

With the advent of new media, the prank evolved. The BBC's 1957 Swiss spaghetti harvest convinced viewers that pasta grew on trees. Close-up shots of farmers carefully plucking strands from branches were so convincing that the BBC was flooded with calls from people asking how to grow their own. Later, Burger King's 1998 advertisement for a "left-handed Whopper" meticulously explained how the burger's condiments were rotated to suit left-handed people, leading thousands to ask for the special burger.

In the digital age, tech giants have gotten in on the fun. Google has a long history of April Fool's pranks, including a revolutionary olfactory search engine that supposedly let you search for and experience smells through your computer. Another popular prank transformed real-world street maps into playable Pac-Man levels. These digital deceptions show how hoaxes continue to play with our expectations of technology and reality.

The Ultimate Tricksters

Of course, the trickster isn't just a modern phenomenon; it's a timeless archetype found in cultures all over the world. These figures blur the lines between creation and chaos, order and destruction.

  • Maui: This demigod from Polynesian mythology is a cultural hero whose exploits are as grand as they are mischievous. Maui was born prematurely and rescued by his supernatural ancestors, who nurtured him into a powerful demigod. He is known for using cunning and magical trickery to achieve incredible feats, such as slowing the sun with a rope woven from his sister's hair, and pulling up entire islands from the depths of the ocean with a magical fishhook. However, his trickery was not always benevolent. His attempt to steal immortality from the goddess of death ended in tragedy when a small bird laughed, waking the goddess who then crushed him, bringing death into the world.

  • Loki: From Norse mythology, Loki is a complex and contradictory figure who is a constant source of both amusement and dread to the gods of Asgard. His "in-between" status—as the son of a giant—is central to his character. He is a shapeshifter who can transform into anything from an animal to an inanimate object, a fluidity that reflects his chaotic nature. While he is responsible for the death of Baldr, which sets in motion the events of Ragnarok, he also uses his cunning to help the gods, such as when he helped Thor retrieve his stolen hammer, Mjollnir. His duplicitous nature makes him a paradox: a force of both creation and destruction.

  • The Devil: In English folklore, the Devil is not just a figure of fear, but is often portrayed as comically inept. He is a cunning bargainer who engages in deceptive appearances and mischief, but is repeatedly outsmarted by clever humans. Legends like that of Stingy Jack, who outwitted the devil and trapped him in a tree, and the tale of the cobbler, who stitched a hidden cross into a pair of shoes to make the devil vanish, show this recurring theme. Like Loki, his actions often have unintended consequences, as he might try to sow chaos but ends up creating something new and unexpected.

  • Anansi the Spider: A staple of West African and Caribbean folklore, Anansi is a true master of cunning and a symbol of wit and resilience. Originating from the Akan people of Ghana, his stories spread during the transatlantic slave trade, where he became a symbol of resistance and survival for enslaved Africans. He is often depicted as a small spider who uses his cleverness to outsmart much larger and more powerful opponents, embodying the idea that wit can triumph over brute strength. In one of his most famous tales, he gained all the stories in the world from a sky god by capturing a leopard, a swarm of hornets, and a fairy.

Whether they are cultural heroes or cautionary figures, tricksters from around the world show that our fascination with deception runs deep. From ancient myths to modern pranks, the hoax continues to be a weird and wonderful part of the human experience.

The Ghost in the Machine: The Viral Twitter Haunting of "Dear David"

In the age of social media, a new kind of ghost story has emerged. It's not told around a campfire or whispered in a shadowy room, but broadcast to millions in real-time, one character at a time. The saga of "Dear David" is a terrifying example of this new medium. What began as a web cartoonist's unsettling dreams quickly became a viral phenomenon that left millions of followers questioning the line between digital folklore and genuine paranormal terror.

The Nightmare Begins

The story started with a simple, chilling tweet: "My apartment is currently being haunted by the ghost of a dead child, and he's trying to kill me." The author, Adam Ellis, a cartoonist, described waking up in a state of sleep paralysis, a grotesque figure of a child with a dented head sitting in a green rocking chair at the foot of his bed. Soon, a girl appeared in a dream to give him the "rules": you may ask the dead child two questions, but never a third.

Driven by morbid curiosity, Adam broke the rule in a dream, asking the ghost who pushed a shelf on him. He woke up in a state of terror. But the haunting didn't stay in his mind for long.

The Haunting Escalates

The "Dear David" phenomenon moved from the dream world to the physical. Adam’s cats began a strange ritual of gathering at his apartment door at midnight, as if something was on the other side. A sleep talk app he installed recorded unnerving sounds—a snap, a footstep, and a chilling groan.

The most unnerving escalation, however, came from the physical realm. After a terrifying dream where the shrunken figure dragged him to an old warehouse, Adam woke up with a large, unexplained bruise on his arm. Days later, he found himself inexplicably drawn to an abandoned warehouse, where the only object he found inside was a single green rocking chair.

The Evidence

The story exploded when Adam began to present photo and video evidence. A pet camera caught his own rocking chair moving on its own, but that was just the beginning.

While visiting his hometown in Montana, he discovered tiny, child-like footprints in the snow outside his garage. Back in his apartment, he set his phone to take photos every minute as he slept. The results were horrifying. The photos showed a blurry figure appearing on a chair, then moving to his bed, and in the final image, the figure was inches from his face. The eerie images and videos brought a visceral sense of dread to the story, leading many to believe it was all real.

The End of the Story... Or a Creepypasta?

The "Dear David" narrative concluded ambiguously. Adam's social media followers began seeing a strange, "glitched" image on his Instagram, which some interpreted as the ghost possessing him. The story then simply fizzled out, with Adam tweeting that things were "quiet." This anticlimactic ending led many to question whether the entire saga was a work of fiction—a "creepypasta," or viral horror story.

Wyrd News Beyond the Haunting

The episode also explored bizarre stories from the real world. We discussed the strange case of a woman who was mistakenly declared dead by a government agency, leading to her health insurance being canceled and her having to prove she was, in fact, alive.

We also delved into a compelling conspiracy theory: that the "Gifted and Talented" education program for children in the 1980s was actually a front for a CIA training program. Former students recall learning Russian and Morse code, and participating in strange "sound meditation" tests, leaving many to wonder if they were unknowingly being trained to be spies.

In the end, whether it's a ghost haunting a Twitter feed or a government agency mistakenly declaring you dead, the line between the weird and the real is thinner than ever before.

Salisbury's Dark Secrets: An Unsolved Murder, Mummified Hands, and Ancient Prophecies

Beneath its postcard-perfect spire, the city of Salisbury holds a history as rich and dark as the peaty soil of the Wessex countryside. From its origins as a prehistoric fortress to its stunning cathedral and ancient inns, Salisbury is a place where the past is not just remembered—it’s alive. While tourists come to see the Magna Carta, a deeper look reveals a city haunted by folklore, bloody history, and one of the most chilling unsolved murders in English history.

A Castle's Spite and a Pub’s Gruesome Secret

Our journey begins not in Salisbury itself, but on the windswept ramparts of Old Sarum. Here, the original medieval town and castle stood, but the constant bickering between the military and the clergy became so intense that the bishop decided to abandon the site. According to a local legend, the bishop fired an arrow from the ramparts and where it fell, the new cathedral would be built. The arrow, of course, landed miles away, prompting an ingenious but likely apocryphal solution: a second arrow struck a deer, which then bled out on the marshy ground where the current city now stands.

In the valley below, the new city prospered, but its ancient inns carry stories of their own. One of the most macabre legends is found at the Haunter Venison pub. In the 1820s, a card game turned deadly when a local butcher, suspecting a visiting gambler of cheating, severed the man’s hand with his cleaver. The butcher’s suspicions were confirmed when four aces fell from the gambler's sleeve. Decades later, during a 1911 renovation, a mummified hand clutching a set of playing cards was discovered in a wall cavity, cementing the pub’s grim reputation.

The Cathedral's Hidden Stories

The magnificence of Salisbury Cathedral is undeniable, but even its stones hold secrets. It is here that one of England's greatest mysteries lies in a tomb. William Longsby, Earl of Salisbury and an illegitimate son of Henry II, died suddenly after a banquet hosted by a jealous rival. While some attributed his death to the hardships of his recent military campaign, dark rumors of poisoning circulated. When his tomb was opened centuries later, a chilling discovery was made: a mummified rat was found inside his skull. The rat had seemingly died from a massive dose of arsenic, lending grim credence to the long-held suspicions of murder.

But perhaps the city’s most unsettling story is not of a historical figure, but a child.

The Unsolved Murder of Teddy Haskell

On a cold Halloween night in 1908, 11-year-old Teddy Haskell was found dead in his bed. He had been brutally murdered, his throat cut so severely that it severed his larynx. His mother, Flora Haskell, screamed to her neighbor that a man had "un-murdered" Teddy and then fled the house. The police, led by the famous Chief Inspector Walter Dew (of Jack the Ripper fame), were immediately suspicious.

A bloodstained knife was found, a knife Flora admitted came from her own kitchen. Her story was full of inconsistencies: no one saw a man flee the scene, and her behavior after the murder was highly questionable. Furthermore, a police matron and a visiting reverend both reported hearing Flora state, "If I did it, I do not remember it," suggesting a potential memory lapse or a momentary fit of madness.

Despite the damning circumstantial evidence, the case was far from straightforward. The police’s mishandling of the crime scene and the inconsistencies in witness testimonies created enough doubt for the jury. After two lengthy and sensational trials, Flora Haskell was ultimately acquitted, though the Chief Inspector remained convinced of her guilt. The case remains a complex and tragic puzzle, leaving open the question of whether Flora was a cunning killer or a grieving mother wrongly accused.

Beyond the City Walls: Prophecies and Cryptids

Salisbury’s mysteries are not limited to its ancient past. Our weird news this week brought the strange into the modern day. Across the Atlantic, a California assemblyman has introduced a bill to make Bigfoot the state’s official cryptid. While seemingly a novelty bill, it’s been taken seriously enough to generate headlines and open a broader conversation about the existence of elusive creatures, with an official DNA project underway at a major university.

Even more bizarrely, a 900-year-old prophecy by an Irish saint may have foretold the end of the world. Saint Malachy’s prophecy lists 109 popes before the final one, a list which ends with the current Pope Francis. While the prophecy’s authenticity is debated, history offers a few chilling coincidences, such as the reign of Pope Benedict XV, whose prophetic description of "Religion Depopulated" was followed by the mass deaths of World War I and the Spanish flu.

From ancient prophecies to unsolved crimes and bizarre pub legends, Salisbury shows us that the line between history and mystery is often blurred. The strange and the unexplainable are not just found in folklore—they are a very real part of our world.

Wyrd News: A Severed Hand and a Time Machine

The world is a strange place, and every day brings new headlines that blur the lines between reality and the supernatural. In this edition of "Wyrd News," we explore two stories—one grimly real and the other a fascinating blend of history and legend.

The Severed Hand

A peculiar story from Sky News recently reported the discovery of a severed hand found on the grounds of an Irish school. The initial details were scarce, leading to speculation that it might be a grim relic from the past. The mystery deepened as police tried to trace where the hand came from.

However, the truth behind the story took an unexpected and even more bizarre turn. It was discovered that a 12-year-old boy had been playing with gas canisters nearby, which resulted in part of his hand being blown off. He was being treated at a nearby hospital, but the hand had been taken away for testing to determine its owner. The story, once a bizarre mystery, became a tragic tale of a young boy's accident.

The Vatican's Time Machine

Moving from the grim to the genuinely "wyrd," we look into the legend of the Chronovisor, a device allegedly built in the mid-20th century by a team of prominent scientists and hidden away by the Vatican. The device, which its self-proclaimed inventor, Father Ernetti, claimed to have built, was said to be able to display events from the past like a television.

According to the legend, the chronovisor could reconstruct electromagnetic waves and sound frequencies, allowing users to observe historical events with complete accuracy. Among the most astonishing claims was that the device allowed Ernetti to witness the crucifixion of Jesus Christ. He also reportedly used the device to view other significant historical scenes, including a speech by Cicero and the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah. In another claim that blurs the line between reality and fantasy, Ernetti was also said to have seen a centaur using the device.

Though the legend has since been widely debunked, the story of the chronovisor continues to intrigue. It is a modern myth that reminds us of our enduring fascination with the past and our desire to unlock its secrets.

An Uncanny App

Even in our digital age, the "wyrd" can be found in the most mundane places. One recent online discussion began with a simple question: why does it feel so unsettling to let a child play with a Ouija board app on an iPad?

The question was posed as a philosophical one—from a purely skeptical viewpoint, a digital app is a harmless piece of code, yet a profound sense of unease lingers. The ensuing discussion showed that many people, even those who claim to be rational, feel a deep-seated discomfort with the idea. It was a fascinating look into the psychology of belief and how we instinctively react to things we cannot logically explain. While most of the comments offered "parenting advice," a few highlighted the core issue: the powerful hold that symbolic objects, even in digital form, have over our minds.

From Sherwood Forest to Secret Aircraft: The Wyrd Journey of Mark Ryan

Some individuals lead lives so filled with diverse and curious experiences that they seem to defy easy categorization. Mark Ryan is one such person. Known to millions for his roles as Nasir the Saracen in Robin of Sherwood and for voicing Jetfire in the Transformers film series, Ryan's journey extends far beyond the screen, bridging the worlds of ancient British folklore, deep spirituality, and the hidden realities of modern aerospace.

This is the story of a man whose work and personal philosophy are steeped in the belief that the "wyrd"—the strange and the mystical—is not just a matter of fantasy, but an intrinsic part of our world.

The Wildwood’s Roots: A System of the Land

Mark Ryan's connection to the British landscape began in his childhood, romping through the ancient woods of Sherwood Forest. This early immersion in history and legend instilled in him a profound appreciation for a world beyond the visible. Years later, as an actor, he was offered the opportunity to create a tarot deck, but found that traditional decks like the Rider-Waite, rooted in esoteric systems like the Kabbalah, didn't resonate with him. He wanted a system that spoke the language of the British Isles.

He and his collaborator, Cheska Potter, embarked on a quest to reimagine the tarot. Their solution was to replace the traditional structure with a wheel of the year, laying out the cards to correspond with the seasons, the animals, and the ancient festivals of the land. This approach, which honored the wisdom of the earth and the power of the feminine, resulted in the creation of the Wildwood Tarot. The deck was an immediate sensation, but its original version, the Greenwood Tarot, has since become a cult classic, with unopened copies fetching thousands of dollars due to the publisher's decision not to reprint it. The deck's enduring power, Ryan believes, lies in its authenticity—its direct connection to the stories and spirits of the ancient British forests.

Intuition, Synchronicity, and a Miraculous Ring

For Ryan, the tarot is not a tool for fortune-telling, but a mirror for the subconscious. He views it as a way to gain clarity and self-knowledge, a practical application of Jungian synchronicity and quantum mechanics. He believes that by observing our own internal landscape, we can create new possibilities and pathways for our lives.

He offers a powerful anecdote to illustrate this philosophy. Having lost his uncle's precious signet ring while trogging in the rugged Brecon Beacons, he searched for days in vain. Exhausted and at his wit's end, he stood at the base of a tree, pleading with it to help him find the ring. As he slumped down against the trunk, his foot dislodged a clump of earth and, with a metallic "clink," the ring fell onto the heel of his boot. For Ryan, this was not a simple coincidence. It was a tangible piece of evidence that if one reaches the end of the road and genuinely asks for a solution, sometimes the impossible will arrive.

This faith in the unseen is also reflected in the creation of the deck itself. While meditating at the ancient site of Wayland Smithy, he was fixated on the image of a great white bear, a creature that an artist collaborator insisted did not exist in Britain. Yet, Ryan trusted his vision, and the "white bear" card was included. Years later, DNA testing would prove that polar bears are, in fact, descended from bears that originated in the British Isles—a powerful example of how intuition can access a deeper, forgotten knowledge.

From Ancient Mysteries to Classified Reality

Ryan's belief in hidden realities extends beyond folklore into the modern world. He speaks of the use of psychic and magical warfare by the SOE during World War II, a little-known historical effort to psychologically destabilize the Germans. He explains how this led to the famous flight of Rudolf Hess, who was convinced he was going to meet occult leaders in Scotland.

In a stunning transition, Ryan connects this to the contemporary phenomenon of Unidentified Aerial Phenomena (UAPs). Drawing on his background and high-level security clearance from a prior career, he speaks with surprising authority on the topic. He suggests that while some UAPs may indeed be non-human in origin, others are almost certainly highly advanced, classified aircraft—vehicles with propulsion systems that defy conventional aerodynamics and are capable of speeds of Mach 20. For Ryan, the line between ancient magic and future technology is razor-thin, and the strange phenomena of our world are simply a reflection of an unseen reality that we are only beginning to comprehend.

Whether delving into the ancient archetypes of the Wildwood Tarot or discussing classified aerospace projects, Mark Ryan’s message is consistent: our world is far weirder than we often allow ourselves to believe. The keys to understanding it, he suggests, lie not just in scientific inquiry, but in opening our minds and trusting the deep, intuitive connection we share with the world around us.

The Journey of the Tarot: From Game to a Mirror of the Soul

For centuries, the tarot deck has been a source of mystery and fascination, a set of 78 cards rich with symbolism and intrigue. While today we associate them with divination and personal insight, the story of the tarot is a winding path that began not in the world of the occult, but in the realm of games and art.

The Renaissance Origins: A Game of Triumphs

The earliest known tarot decks emerged in 15th-century Italy. Far from being tools for fortune-telling, these hand-painted cards were used to play a popular game called tarocchi or Trionfi, meaning “triumphs.” These decks were similar to modern playing cards but with one key difference: they included a series of special trump cards.

This structure created a deck of two distinct parts. The first was the standard deck of 56 cards, the Minor Arcana, with four suits—swords, wands, cups, and coins—that mirrored the suits of playing cards still used in Spain and Italy today. The second was the Major Arcana, a set of 22 trump cards that depicted allegorical figures and scenes. Images of the Fool, the World, the Sun, and Death weren’t meant to glimpse the future; they were miniature works of art that acted as permanent trump cards in a game of skill and strategy.

The Shift to Divination

For over 300 years, the tarot remained primarily a card game. Its transformation into a tool for divination is one of the great mysteries of its history, a shift that seems to have occurred sometime in the 18th century. This change was heavily influenced by a burgeoning interest in mysticism and esoteric knowledge, particularly in France. As candlelit salons buzzed with discussions of hidden wisdom, the rich symbolism of the tarot cards proved a fertile ground for new interpretations.

A key figure in this evolution was Jean-Baptiste Alliette, a French occultist better known by his pseudonym, Etteilla. He was among the first to popularise the use of tarot for fortune-telling, developing his own unique interpretations and publishing the first deck specifically designed for occult purposes. Etteilla’s work laid the groundwork for cartomancy, the practice of using cards for divination, and helped cement the tarot’s new identity.

The Golden Dawn's Legacy

In the late 19th century, the tarot’s spiritual journey took another significant leap forward in London with the formation of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. This secret society, which attracted prominent writers, artists, and intellectuals, synthesized various esoteric traditions—from Kabbalah to astrology and alchemy—into a complex system of magical teachings. The tarot became a central component of this system, with each card assigned specific meanings and correspondences that further deepened its symbolism.

It was within this influential circle that the most widely used and influential tarot deck was born: the Rider-Waite-Smith deck. Created in the early 20th century by Golden Dawn member Arthur Edward Waite and illustrated by Pamela Colman Smith, this deck was revolutionary. Unlike previous decks with unillustrated minor suits, every single one of Smith's 78 cards told a clear, accessible story through its imagery. This comprehensive symbolism, combined with its accessibility, made it a cornerstone for modern tarot readers and an undeniable influence on every deck that followed.

Beyond the Veil: A Tool for Life and Creativity

Today, the tarot’s versatility extends far beyond its historical uses. While many still turn to the cards for divination, a growing number of people use them as a tool for self-reflection and creative inspiration.

  • Self-Reflection: The cards can act as a mirror, helping individuals explore their own inner landscape and gain insights into personal challenges. A reading can provide a new perspective on a difficult situation, guiding a person toward a deeper understanding of themselves.

  • Creative Inspiration: The tarot’s rich imagery makes it a fantastic tool for writers, artists, and storytellers. A card like the Tower can represent a sudden upheaval in a plot, while the Hermit can symbolize a character’s journey of self-discovery. The cards provide a visual language that can unlock a wellspring of creativity.

The evolution of the tarot from a simple card game to a powerful instrument for self-discovery is a testament to the enduring power of its symbols and stories. It reminds us that sometimes the most profound insights are found not in grand prophecy, but in the quiet act of shuffling a deck and listening to what the cards reveal about ourselves.

The Unsolved Murder of Charles Walton: When Folklore Became a Crime Scene

In the cold twilight of Valentine’s Day, 1945, in the small, seemingly idyllic village of Lower Quinton, Warwickshire, one of the most baffling and brutal murders in British history unfolded. What began as a grim true crime case quickly spiraled into something far more unsettling, blending a gruesome reality with ancient folklore and the sinister whisper of witchcraft.

This is the story of Charles Walton, a 74-year-old widower, and a death so strange that police themselves suspected it was the horrifying climax of a pagan ritual.

A Brutal Valentine's Day

Charles Walton was a lifelong resident of Lower Quinton, a quiet, solitary agricultural worker who had lived in the village for all of his 74 years. On February 14th, he set out early to trim hedges at Furze Farm on the slopes of Mayon Hill. He left his small cottage armed only with his slash hook—a menacing pruning tool—and a pitchfork. When he failed to return home by evening, his niece, Edith, went searching for him with a neighbor. They found Walton’s body near a hedgerow, a scene of such horrific violence that it would haunt them for the rest of their lives.

Walton’s throat had been savagely slashed, and he had been beaten over the head with his own stick. His body was pinned to the ground by his pitchfork, its tines driven deep into either side of his neck, with the handle wedged firmly under a hedge. Most disturbingly, a large cross had reportedly been carved into his chest.

The investigation was quickly taken over by Scotland Yard’s Chief Inspector Robert Fabian. Over the next several weeks, police conducted an exhaustive search and interviewed more than 500 people, including Walton’s neighbor and prime suspect, Alfred Potter. But despite their efforts, they could find no motive, no murder weapon (other than the tools), and not a single clue. The case went cold, remaining a source of speculation and dread for decades.

The Ghosts of the Past

What makes the Walton murder so unique is not just the brutality, but its chilling links to historical events and local folklore. The murder was not an isolated incident; it was a brutal echo of a much older story.

Seventy years earlier, in a nearby village, a man named James Hayward murdered an 80-year-old woman named Ann Tennant. Like Walton, she was also killed with a pitchfork. Hayward, who was found not guilty on the grounds of insanity, told police that he killed her because she was a witch. A Daily Mirror article in 1954 revisiting the two cases claimed that police had discovered an undisclosed link between the two killings, a secret that has been kept for decades.

But the coincidences don't stop there. Exactly 60 years to the day before Walton’s death, on Valentine’s Day, 1885, a man named John Hathaway died in the exact same field where Walton was found. Walton himself had allegedly witnessed Hathaway's death. Was this a mere coincidence, or a dark, recurring cycle tied to the land itself?

A World of Witches and Black Dogs

The locals of Lower Quinton had their own theories. Rumors swirled that Charles Walton was a witch, a belief that added a ritualistic dimension to his murder. He was said to keep Natterjack toads as pets, and some farmers believed he used them to blight crops and livestock. The gruesome manner of his death—pinned to the earth with a cross on his chest—was interpreted by some as a pagan human sacrifice to ensure fertile soil, an ancient rite to appease a land-based deity.

Even Chief Inspector Fabian, a no-nonsense man of the law, was unnerved by the local tales. While investigating, he reported seeing a spectral black dog—a harbinger of doom in British folklore—vanish on the hill. In the following days, two other black dogs were found dead near the crime scene. Fabian would later write in his memoir that he advised anyone dabbling in the occult to remember Charles Walton, warning that his death was "clearly the ghastly climax of a pagan rite."

The bizarre tapestry of folklore continued to grow. A story was recorded in the 1920s about a boy from Lower Quinton, also named Charles Walton, who witnessed a spectral black dog and a headless lady before learning of his sister's death. The case was even linked to the nearby Rollright Stones, an ancient stone circle, and the Meon Hill barrow, a mound steeped in its own strange legends.

The chilling, unexplainable nature of the Walton case has transcended its origins as a police file. It is widely believed to be the inspiration behind the folk horror classic, The Wicker Man, whose themes of ritual sacrifice and isolated pagan communities strongly resonate with the details of the crime.

Today, the mystery of Charles Walton lives on. In the quiet churchyard of Lower Quinton, his grave is missing its headstone, a small, weathered stone bearing only the initials C.H.W. marking a final resting place without a name. The true identity of his killer remains unknown, but the unsettling questions about witchcraft, folklore, and the dark history of the English countryside ensure the story of Charles Walton will continue to captivate those who dare to delve into the past.

In the Desert of the Real: UFOs, Telepathy, and the Spreading of "The Lie"

The world of UFOs and UAPs is in constant flux, with new videos and claims emerging on a near-daily basis. Two recent pieces of footage have captured the attention of the paranormal community and sparked a deeper conversation about the nature of truth and deception.

The first video, released by a US Air Force veteran named Jake Barber, allegedly shows footage from a helicopter recovering a UAP. The object in question is an "egg-shaped" craft, and the story only gets weirder from there. Barber claims his company is now doing research into telepathic control of these UAPs, with one dramatic clip showing a person attempting to control a UAP with their mind, only for a second craft to appear and "intercept" it. The sheer outlandishness of the story and the lack of verifiable information raise many questions about the fine line between credible testimony and fantastic claims.

A second clip, this time from well-known UFO journalist Jeremy Corbell, adds another layer of intrigue. In his video, Corbell speaks of a "lie" that he believes the government is preparing to tell the public: that a craft is slowly making its way toward Earth. He claims that this story is based on a classified document from the 1970s and that the government wants the public to believe it so they can "set them up to believe a lie." The pronouncement echoes the long-held suspicions of many in the UFO community, and it leaves listeners wondering what the real deception might be.

Whether these claims are genuine or simply part of a new chapter of conspiracy theories, they serve as a potent reminder of the inherent difficulty in getting to the truth. In a world where even some of the most prominent researchers disagree, the search for answers can feel like a trip down an endless rabbit hole, filled with more questions than answers.

Heol Fanog: The Haunting of the Welsh Amityville

In the heart of the dramatic Bannau Brycheiniog National Park, nestled among rolling hills and vast moorland, sits a remote farmhouse known as Heol Fanog. It’s a place of ancient stone and palpable isolation, but in the late 1980s, it became the stage for a haunting so relentless and terrifying it earned the chilling moniker, “The Welsh Amityville.”

This is the story of Bill and Liz Rich and their son Lawrence, a family who moved to Heol Fanog seeking a fresh start, only to find themselves stumbling into a nightmare.

A Prelude to Terror

Before the family even settled into their new home, a series of bizarre events began to unfold, starting with a trip to Egypt. Inside the Great Pyramid of Cheops, Liz was the first to experience it—a sense of overwhelming oppression and tiny, unexplainable lights. The entire family felt a suffocating presence, an unseen force that made them flee in terror. It was a moment they would later look back on as the beginning of their torment, a belief that they had somehow brought something home with them.

Back in Wales, the initial unsettling incidents seemed almost mundane. Bill, a talented artist hoping to find creative solace in the countryside, began noticing an alarming recurrence of the number “666” on receipts and even a car’s license plate that nearly hit them. It was a coincidence, they told themselves, but a chilling one nonetheless.

The first truly paranormal event occurred late one night. After Bill returned to his art studio, he was terrified by the sound of heavy, hobnail boots stomping directly above him. He raced upstairs to check on his son, Lawrence, but the boy was fast asleep, and his wife, Liz, had heard nothing. It was the first sign that the haunting was targeting Bill directly.

The Escalation

Over the following months, the haunting intensified with a terrifying focus. The family was hit with a series of physical and financial assaults. They received an electricity bill for £750—a sum large enough to power a village—and a technician confirmed that the meter was inexplicably spinning even with all the appliances turned off. A foul, sulphurous smell would appear and vanish without a trace, and the house's temperature would swing wildly between freezing and sweltering, even with the heating off.

The psychological toll was immense. Lawrence, a once happy teenager, retreated into himself, painting his room a disturbing shade of crimson and spending hours alone. The family's animals also seemed to suffer under a curse—goats died, a pig was put down, and even their dog ran off. It was as if the entity was working to isolate and break them.

A Procession of "Experts"

As the family's sanity frayed, they began a desperate search for help. They reached out to a series of so-called experts, each more bizarre than the last. The visits were repetitive and largely unhelpful.

  • The Priest: The first to arrive was a Catholic priest who blessed every room in the house, except for Lawrence’s, which was locked. For a brief time, the activity subsided, giving the family a fleeting sense of hope.

  • The Spiritualists: Later, they contacted a group of spiritualists. One went into a trance, identifying four entities: an old woman, a mischievous young man, another young man, and a fourth being—a witch—who refused to leave. This medium claimed the entity was conjured in the 16th century and was attached to Bill because of something he had done in a past life.

  • The Exorcists: French "exorcists" arrived, declaring that the solution lay in a pagan burial ground beneath the house. Next, Dutch mediums, in a surreal scene, drew a pentacle on the kitchen floor and performed a ritual while one stood in the center, arms outstretched in the shape of a cross. The mediums insisted that if they were ever in trouble, they should draw a pentacle and sit inside it for protection.

The Horrifying Climax

Despite the rituals, the visual apparitions became more intense. Liz began seeing a ghastly, wrinkled old woman in the house and garden, and a terrifying seven-foot black figure would appear in their kitchen. The haunting reached a fever pitch during a final exorcism performed by a minister named David Holmwood and a "reformed Satanist."

During a phone call with David, Bill watched in horror as the seven-foot figure materialized in his kitchen. David, on the other end of the line, cried out that he could see it too. He then commanded a "wall of fire" to encircle the demon, and as he spoke, the figure was engulfed in a fiery inferno. It was the most dramatic event in the entire ordeal.

The most shocking moment, however, came during an exorcism with a different expert. When Liz was asked if she believed in Jesus Christ as her Lord and Savior, an "inhuman," terrifying voice rasped from her, "No."

A Skeptical Lens and a Tragic End

A skeptical mind might view the events at Heol Fanog as a case of mass hysteria brought on by a man suffering from a mental health crisis. The financial stress, the isolation, and the pressure of a new family could have taken a severe toll on Bill's psyche, leading him to hallucinate and misinterpret events. In this scenario, the "experts," with their grand pronouncements of curses and witches, only exacerbated the problem.

However, the fact that Liz and others witnessed some of the same events lends a chilling credibility to the story. The physical phenomena, from the electricity bills to the bizarre death of a neighbor's horse, defy simple explanation. Was it a "stone tape theory" haunting, with malevolent energy recorded in the old stone? Or was it something else entirely?

The truth, as it often is, remains elusive. The family eventually left the house and, tragically, the strain of the ordeal led to Bill and Liz's divorce. Bill's life was never the same, and he later passed away after struggling with alcoholism. The events at Heol Fanog left an indelible mark on all who experienced them, a testament to the idea that some evils can truly be uninvited.

The full story is chronicled in Mark Chadbourne's book, Testimony.

Wyrd News: Presidential Theatrics, Werewolf Films & Podcast Oddities!

The world is a strange and unpredictable place, with stories that defy explanation appearing in everything from politics to film and even podcasting. This week, we're taking a look at a few of the more unusual headlines that caught our attention.

The Political "Nothing Burger"

In a move that caught the public's eye, the declassification of highly-anticipated files related to the JFK and Martin Luther King Jr. cases was recently signed. However, the move has been widely regarded as more of a theatrical performance than a genuine act of transparency. Skeptics believe the documents will likely be a "big nothing burger," containing only minor details rather than any stunning new revelations. The gesture mirrors a previous unfulfilled promise to release all information on UAPs on the second day of a presidency, highlighting a pattern of political promises that get a lot of attention but ultimately fall short of expectations.

A Werewolf Film in Middle English

Fans of historical and folk horror have reason to be excited. Director Robert Eggers, known for his haunting films like The Witch and The Northman, is set to release a new film titled The Night. The werewolf movie will be set in 13th-century England and will feature a level of linguistic authenticity that promises a deeply immersive experience. As Eggers is known for his dedication to historical accuracy, this film is sure to offer a unique and terrifying take on the classic werewolf mythos.

The Podcast Oddity

In a surprising turn of events, a previous guest on the podcast, who is not a famous name, has become one of the most downloaded guests of all time. This is particularly bizarre given that the popular episode was actually a re-recording due to a technical error on the original. This strange twist of fate is a peculiar example of how the most unexpected things can capture an audience's attention in the digital world.

Stay Wyrd.

The Coombs Family and the Welsh Triangle: A Terrifying True Story

Nestled in the remote hills of Pembrokeshire, Wales, lies a cattle farm that, in the mid-1970s, became the stage for one of the most chilling and inexplicable series of events in UFO history. The true story of the Coombs family, chronicled in books like The Uninvited and revisited in documentary series, is a terrifying account of a simple farming family besieged by phenomena that defied all logic and reason. This is not a tale of a single, fleeting encounter, but a prolonged campaign of psychological and physical terror that raises questions about the line between reality and the paranormal.

A Cold Watchful Presence

It began subtly, with the mother of the Coombs family, Pauline, spotting a blinding white light hovering near a cliff edge. It swayed "like a malevolent pendulum" and seemed to be watching her. Her husband, Billy, was initially skeptical, but a strange military presence soon appeared in the area, cordoning off coast paths and adding to the unease.

The family's first direct encounter came through their nephew, Mark Matthews. While out in a field, he witnessed a glowing, red saucer-shaped object and from it emerged a towering, silver-suited figure. Terrified, he fled, only to later return with his father and find a massive 12-inch boot print in the mud, a chilling piece of evidence that his sighting was real.

The Escalation of Events

Over the following weeks, the terror intensified. The Coombs’ farmhouse was plagued by electrical anomalies. Bulbs flickered and died, fuses blew, and two televisions inexplicably burnt out. The family's youngest son began to wake up screaming, claiming a "shadow man" had visited his room. This electrical chaos reached a terrifying peak when their car died in the middle of the road, pursued by a pulsating orange orb that swooped over them, enveloping the vehicle in an eerie glow.

This was a prelude to the most infamous incident of all. One night, while Pauline and Billy were watching television, a colossal, seven-foot-tall figure appeared at their bay window. Clad in a glowing silver suit, it dwarfed the window frame. The entire house shook and the lights flickered violently as the figure reached toward the glass. The police, who were called to the scene, admitted they had heard too many similar reports to dismiss the family's fear, but they were too afraid to investigate the figure on their own.

Men in Black and a Secret Base

The phenomena continued. Two identical men in dark suits, described as "not quite right," glided up the driveway in a futuristic car, asking for Pauline Coombs by name. These "Men in Black" were frighteningly direct and seemed to know more about the family than they should.

Equally bizarre were the repeated incidents involving the family's cattle. On multiple occasions, over a hundred cows mysteriously vanished from a locked shed, only to reappear in a neighbor's yard, half a mile away. Everything remained locked, and no sign of a forced entry could be found, an event that pushed Billy to his breaking point.

The family also witnessed a UFO that appeared to enter a secret base in the area. They watched a spherical disc hover over the sea before shooting towards a rocky outcrop known as Stack Rock. Instead of a collision, the rock face opened like a "sliding door," and the craft disappeared inside.

Beyond the Farm: A Worldwide Phenomenon?

The events at the Coombs farm found a terrifying parallel in a separate incident thousands of miles away. In the northern desert of Chile, a soldier named Armando Valdez vanished into thin air while approaching a brilliant, hovering light. He reappeared just 15 minutes later, disoriented and with a strange beard, and his wristwatch had advanced by five days. He claimed the beings told him, "You will never know who we are or where we came from, but we will return again." The similarities to the Coombs' terrifying experiences suggest a potential link to a larger, worldwide phenomenon.

The Challenge of Credibility

While the Coombs family's account is harrowing, the story is clouded by controversy surrounding one of its key chroniclers, Peter Padgett. It has been claimed that Padgett is an alias for a man named Peter Fisher, who was convicted of defrauding the benefits system. This raises a difficult question: Does the alleged criminal history of an author invalidate his account of the events? While the Coombs family’s story has independent corroboration from neighbors and police, the author's credibility complicates the narrative, forcing us to consider whether a "good story" might have been embellished for dramatic effect.

Ultimately, the case of the Welsh Triangle and the Coombs family leaves us with more questions than answers. Whether the events were an elaborate military hoax, an example of mass hysteria, or truly a glimpse into a world we cannot comprehend, one thing is certain: a family's life was turned upside down by something they could not explain, and for years, they suffered in silence, haunted by the memory of their uninvited guests.

The Devil at the Door & The Rise of the Zombie Spiders

Hello, Wyrdo's! We're back with the latest roundup of the weird, the spooky, and the downright bizarre from around the globe. This week, we're talking about a terrifying encounter in Texas and a new kind of zombie apocalypse brewing in the caves of Ireland.

The Devil at the Door

What would you do if a figure in a red goat mask showed up at your front door at night? That's exactly what happened to a homeowner in Carrollton, North Texas, whose Ring doorbell camera captured the horrifying moment. The person was not only in a disturbing mask but was also holding a sign with a chilling message from the Book of Revelation about the end of days.

The homeowner was left shaken and scared to leave her house, and honestly, who can blame her? In the US, where people are more than willing to take matters into their own hands, this kind of prank is incredibly dangerous. We saw the social media reaction, and a lot of people were not amused, suggesting they would have taken extreme measures. It's a sobering reminder that a "prank" in one context can be a legitimate threat in another.

Authorities are now monitoring the situation, but no crime has been reported. Still, it's a terrifying scenario that shows just how scary the world can be.

The Rise of the Zombie Spiders

From human-induced horror to a natural one, we turn our attention to the caves of Ireland. Prepare for a story that sounds like it came straight out of a horror movie, or a certain video game we know.

Scientists have discovered a new species of fungus, named Gibellula attenboroughi after the legend himself, Sir David Attenborough. And what does this fungus do? It infects spiders and turns them into zombies.

That's right. The fungus takes control of the spider's brain using dopamine, the brain's "happy chemical." Instead of staying hidden, the infected spider is compelled to leave its web and climb to an exposed spot on a cave wall or ceiling. Once it reaches its final resting place, the fungus bursts out of the spider's body in a series of grotesque tendrils, ready to release its spores and infect more spiders. It's an eerie, real-life parallel to the fungal zombies of The Last of Us.

It's a bizarre and fascinating look into the natural world, but we'll admit, seeing the pictures gives us the heebie-jeebies. If you're brave enough, you can look up the photos online—but don't say we didn't warn you!

That's it for this week's Weird News. We'll be back soon with more of the strange and unexplained.

Stay Wyrd.

The Duality of the Wyrd: Prophecies & Peril

The world of the weird is a strange paradox: it offers us glimpses of hope and wonder while simultaneously harboring very real, tangible dangers. It's a place where futuristic prophecies can coexist with tragic, cautionary tales from the woods. This is the duality that defines the strange world we inhabit.

On one hand, we are faced with the rise of the machine oracle. An AI, programmed with the prophecies of the late Baba Vanga, has delivered its forecasts for the coming year. Its predictions paint a picture of extremes. On the grim side, it foresees a devastating war in Europe, massive earthquakes along the US West Coast, and significant damage to infrastructure. Yet, in a more hopeful turn, the AI also predicts major scientific breakthroughs, including lab-grown organs, a potential cure for cancer, and the long-awaited reality of telepathy. These visions of the future, generated by a fusion of ancient mysticism and modern technology, speak to our desire for both knowledge and a sense of control over what's to come.

On the other hand, the real-world dangers of this pursuit are all too clear. A tragic news story from Washington state serves as a solemn reminder of the consequences of seeking the unknown. Two men, who ventured into the remote Gifford Pinshot National Forest in search of Sasquatch, were found dead after a three-day search. While many might hope for a more sensational conclusion, authorities believe their deaths were due to exposure and ill preparedness for the brutally cold weather. The incident is a stark and heartbreaking example of the fatal allure of cryptozoology, proving that even in a search for a mythical creature, the most dangerous thing you can face is the reality of nature itself.

In the end, the world of the weird is not just about what we believe in, but also about what we are willing to risk. It is a place of both prophecies and perils, where the strange and the mundane can collide with devastating consequences.