When a stranger approaches you and tells you that they are from a distant planet and only eat cheeseburgers (Mcdonald’s Double Quarter-Pounder with Cheese, to be exact) and drink no water just Diet Coke; what do you say?

What do you do?

I’m a very quiet individual, or at least that’s how many describe me as. I tend to keep to myself a lot of the times, only being boisterous with those who I consider close friends. By effect, I might come off as being unapproachable. So when this stranger sat two seats behind me while riding the train and started talking to me, I found it welcoming. An older African-American gentle man. Tall. About 6’2″ I would say. He started asking me questions about the train’s direction of travel. I reaffirmed his judgment by telling him that he was on the right train.

“You live around here?” He said.
“Naw, I just work in the area. I live in Downtown L.A.”
“Oh OK, that’s where I’m headed. What do you do?”
“I work in the Information Technology sector. I’m a System Administrator”
“Ah computers. You know, you’re in the right field…”
“How so?”

His tall and lean body crept forward a little. He then proceeded on telling me how computers and technology were about to leap into plasma technology. “Oh man, in two years from now, you will be hearing more about this. You ever heard of Zero-point energy?”. OK so I was intrigued. What I initially thought was going to be just some random conversation with an elderly man, was shaping up into a physics 101 lecture.

“What do you do for a living?” I said. The tall gentleman tells me that he is working on technology that will help predict earthquakes using studies into Zero-point energy and computers. His demeanor reflects the expressions and quirks of a genius, but his clothing and belongings paint a picture of a man who is down and out. Not a strange juxtaposition for anyone who has spent time in Los Angeles.

“Predict earthquakes?” I ask.

He tells of secret technology that I can “only dream of”. So naturally I ask him if he is employed by a governmental agency. “well…no, not really” he exclaimed. “Are you privately funded?”. “uh….yes.  yes.”

At this point the train pulls up to a stop near the city of South Pasadena. Our conversation is broken up by the sitting of another passenger in between us. I turn around and start thinking of who this guy could be. What branch of the government might he be involved with? Is he a scientist?

The train arrives at the major hub, Union Station. Most passengers exit the train. Moving through the dense crowds like ambulance drivers, trying to catch their connecting train. I have one more stop. Little Tokyo.

“Is this Union Station?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Oh..OH! this is my stop then”

DING DING. Doors close

“Don’t worry” I said. “Next stop is Little Tokyo. Where you headed?”

“5th and Main. I’m going to the Library.”

“Well, I’m headed to 5th and Los Angeles St. I have to pick up some dog food. I can take you there.”

We start walking from the station at Little Tokyo and continue our conversation. I wanted to know who he was working for, and what technology he was working with. “Well, I don’t really work for any agency. I work for myself. I have a purpose here”. I asked him, “Here? here in L.A.?  oh, the earthquake research, right?”.  “Well yes the research, but I meant here, on earth”.  I stopped. He stopped. I looked at him and ask: “What do you mean, here on earth?”

“I’m not from earth. You see me as a physical entity, but I’m really not from here. I’m from a 5th dimension.”

I took a step back. Now that I think about it, I don’t know why I did. Maybe it was my instincts telling me to be careful. That this elderly man, who looks so harmless with his slender frame and soft voice was in turn a gun-wielding wacko.

“What the fuck do you mean you are not from earth?”.

His eyebrows arched up. “Ha ha. Well…have you ever heard of the theory of high and low vibrations?” “I figured out a way to vibrate at a higher frequency therefore allowing me to space trave-“.

“I know what the vibration theory is. That doesn’t mean that anyone can travel through time or space! C’mon man, get the fuck outta here”. I interrupted him.

“Well no, not anyone can. Only me. I’m not from this dimension. I’m what I call a Breatharian.”

“Are you seriously expecting me to believe that you are an alien?” I start walking.

“Well…I took me years to master this, but vibrating at a higher frequency or energy is how I do it. I can tell you this. Do you know about 2012?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Do you believe it?” he asked.

“No!”

“Well you should. We are all going to die in 2 years”.

“That’s pretty gloom of you to say. So how does an alien like yourself handle the end of days?”

“I don’t worry about it. I’m going to be in the 5th dimension”.

So we approach our destination. We are standing on the corner of 5th and Main in downtown Los Angeles. This guy is talking about energy fields, inter-dimension travel and the 2012 apocalypse. As I stare up at him, I’m wondering why I’m even listening to this. Why should I even entertain the idea of this man being from a different dimension? I think: If the people passing us hear our conversation they would think we are both nuts. Here comes a hot looking girl…shut up sir! shut up! She walks by, not even a glance.

“What’s your name by the way?” he asks.

“Javier.”

“ah, a strong name. You know, latin POP music is the only thing I listen to?”

“what? no. why?”

“It’s the only music I find that has heart. It is what speaks to us in the 5th dimension.”

“Haha…really? Ricky Martin does that for ya?” “Listen uhm…”

“Wiley..Wiley Brooks. Just like the coyote.”

“Ah OK. Wiley. Let me buy you a cup of coffee. What do you say?”

At that point I thought that Mr. Brooks had a bit more to offer. I wanted to see how far deep into his mind I could get. After all, he did talk physics and astral travel like nobody’s business. If anything, I would have a story to tell.

“Sure…I’ll have a Diet Coke.”

We walk half a block to my favorite hangout. Syrup Desserts. I start to order my usual. Small green tea. I ask the barista if they have any Diet Coke. He gives me a strange look and a head shake. “Sorry Wiley, no Diet Coke. Want a coffee?”

“uhm no…I don’t drink anything besides that, it’s my diet.” I get him a donut and grab my tea and walked over to the only available table.

“OK Wiley…what is up with this diet deal? You don’t drink anything else?”

“No. Nothing. No juice, no water, no other soda. Just Diet Coke.” He proudly exclaimed.

“What do you eat then?”

“Nothing. I don’t need food. I don’t use food for fuel like you do.”

“OK. I’m not an idiot. I know you eat something” I say as I stare at his gut. For a skinny man, he sure does have a protruding gut.

“Well when I must, I only eat one thing. Mcdonald’s Double Quarter-Pounder with Cheese and nothing else .”

“So you are telling me that you only eat burgers and Diet Coke? Nothing else?  why?”

“This is power food for us Bretharians. We do not eat your food. The ingredients in both of these have the necessary chemical compositions to allow me to do inter-dimensional travel. You should try it”

“Well no. I’m a runner. So I follow a strict diet. I don’t eat fast food. I eat a lot of vegetables and turkey. Very little red meat. Plus Mcdonald’s is trash”

“No, vegetables and fruits are useless. You don’t need that. All you have to do is this..try it for a week. Eat only Mcdonald’s Double Quarter-Pounder with Cheese, Nothing else. Drink only Diet Coke. Not Diet Pepsi or regular Coke. Then meditate and say these key words in this particular order: Jot Niranjan, Omkar, Rarankar, Sohang, San nam. They have to be in that order. It is very important.”

“Wait…no veggies? no water? Wiley, what do you say to those who hear all this and say to you that you must be crazy?”

“We’ll see come 2012. You know why we bumped into each other? it’s all part of the plan. Why you turned out to be Mexican? all part of the plan. The reason why I listen to Latin POP is because that music moves me. Your people have gold in their hearts. Real, actual gold. You get that from eating cocoa. It is in your blood. Gold is what makes us closer to the 5th dimension. Let me show you…”

Wiley then takes out a gold pendulum from his pocket. Holding it above the donut; it starts to swing in a circular motion. I look around to see if anyone is looking at us. Embarrassing.

“look here. It is swinging. Why? not because of the donut, but I am using my powers as a Breatharian to move it.”

Readers, I’m fully aware of ideomotor effect. I’m looking at his hands. He is holding the gold chain like he would a pencil. His arm stiff. I see movement. As if he was drawing, really slowly, miniscule circles in the air. I catch that.

“See..my hands and arms aren’t moving. This is the power of a Breatharian.”

There’s that word again. Breatharian. What does that even mean? “Wiley, what’s a Breatharian?”

“That is who I call the people of the 5th dimension.”

“How many of Breatharians exist? “

“Well..for now, it is just me. I’m training others.”

“Really? do they pay?”

“Yes. I used to charge $2 million for Breatharian training. Then dropped it to $1 million. Now I’m at $10,000. I have a few customers. Most are CEOs with alcohol related problems.”

“$10,000?  really? wow….”

“Yes, it really does work. The advice I gave you…that would have cost you thousands…”

“yea well…I’m not gonna stop drinking water and go on a cheeseburger diet.”

“Well…” Wiley sadly sighs.

“Listen Wiley…It was nice meeting you and I hope you do well in life. It’s a tough world out there!”

“Thank you Javier. It was nice meeting you. Maybe I will see you on 5th dimension one day…”

“Yea maybe…”

I shook his hand and stood up and grabbed my messenger bag. I see Wiley wrap the donut with a napkin…He looks at me. I look at him. Silence.

“…for later…” He says.

“Ah yes…”

As I walk away,  I can’t help but think how charming this old man was. How he was able to get my attention and pull me into a conversation about different dimensions, on being an alien and cheeseburger diets. How did a person with those ideals and philosophy hold an hour long conversation with a rational, skeptical and intelligent person like myself? Was I just curious to hear how a person, who I think the world sees as a lunatic, thinks of life? He was really sure about what he was talking about. I saw it in his eyes. Can it be that maybe, just maybe I should incorporate cheeseburgers into my diet? Should I even repeat those five words like some sort of mantra that will enable me to leave planet earth? Some form of repetitious prayer for a swift exodus…. Can’t think about all that. My dog is hungry, I need to buy her some food.

Wiley Brooks’ Website: Breatharian.com

Wiki on living without food: Inedia

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