Do you find it tremendously “strange” out there?
Does everything seem to have shifted–and continue to shift?
Do you ever feel like reality has slipped from your grasp?
Some call it “high strangeness.”
There are many examples.
I believe it’s all in the “prophetic pulse.”
And as I’ll discuss in the “Special Report,” it’s about to get stranger.
Just look around you.
Did you ever think there’d be the “right” for a girl to declare herself a boy and vice versa, or that someone could even declare herself a “mermaid” (this actually happened at a school in Western New York)?
That recent shooting at a Catholic school in Minneapolis?
That, as we all now know, was a transgender boy-girl. His “girlfriend?
She identifies as a “furry.”
Most remarkably, these cases exist in every city and in fact every school. It’s so frequent perhaps I can’t even call it strange.
But strange—weird—it is.
Demonic?
Of course.
But it’s not just the now-omnipresent oddities.
I’m speaking more of the feeling. Things just seem to have shifted in an invisible way. There’s a new, unfamiliar, and uncomfortable sense about everything. It’s hard to grasp. It;s hard to put a label on. It’s even difficult to explain.
The world just seems suddenly different, and it’s not just a hangover from COVID-19 (which many blame for everything).
The speed of life has shifted.
We always expected things to move faster and faster—but this fast? This warp speed?
Reality is being transformed all around us, as if we’re mere bystanders.
I’m sorry, but I look at those who now rule the world—especially the techies—and it creeps me out a bit.
I wrote a “Report” years back (as many of you may recall) about a woman from Montreal who claimed to be an alien hybrid, and sometimes I wonder.
I have a YouTube about it at the bottom, if you want to weigh this bizarre assertion.
I’m not saying I buy this stuff. I am saying that it’s hard to keep up with.
These days, everyone seems to have a microphone. You know: this explosion on YouTube. There are now more than five million registered podcasters.
Andy Warhol was prescient when he predicted sometime around 1968 that in the future “everyone will be world-famous for fifteen minutes.”
Suddenly, everyone is a “celebrity.”
Welcome to the Age of Strangeness
There are moments in history when the fabric of the ordinary seems to tear. The past two decades—especially the post-pandemic world—may be remembered as one such time: a period in which reality itself seemed to mutate, stretch, and shimmer like heat waves rising from asphalt.
Ours is an era soaked in paradox. A time of dazzling technology and spiritual confusion, soaring information and collapsing trust, miracles and misinformation, science and sorcery, clarity and illusion. It is, in almost every way, strange.
At the highest levels of government, officials now speak without irony about UFOs, or as they prefer, UAPs—Unidentified Aerial Phenomena. Former intelligence officers claim the U.S. is in possession of non-human biologics. Pilots describe objects defying the laws of physics. What would have been dismissed as “tinfoil-hat” talk a decade ago now garners sober Senate hearings. Even the Vatican, for its part, has mused publicly on the compatibility of alien life with Christian theology.
Meanwhile, back on Earth, strangeness leaks from every screen. Artificial intelligence has given rise to simulated personalities so eerily lifelike that millions now follow AI-generated influencers on social media. Neural implants are being tested in human skulls. Chatbots can imitate a deceased loved one—or compose poetry indistinguishable from the real thing. In Japan, men raise virtual girlfriends; in the West, apps offer “AI children” as companions. The uncanny has gone mainstream.
Reality itself has grown harder to pin down. YouTube is flooded with so-called “miracle” videos—angels in clouds, statues weeping blood, orbs floating through graveyards. Some are hoaxes. Some defy easy explanation. Conspiracies once confined to fringe forums are now dinner-table topics: the Mandela Effect, simulated universes, predictive programming. People no longer just question authority—they question the timeline.
And how do we explain the surge in spiritual warfare? Catholic exorcists report being overwhelmed with cases. Books on demonic possession land on bestseller lists. At the same time, witchcraft and occultism have boomed among Gen Z, especially on TikTok, where “manifestation,” tarot, and spellcraft are ubiquitous. Ritual has returned, but not always the kind that elevates the soul.
Perhaps stranger still is the reshaping of the human body and identity. We are no longer just asked to accept fluidity in gender; we are invited to affirm those who identify as animals, inanimate objects, even mermaids. Some schools now allow students to act as “furries,” purring and hissing in classrooms. Others debate whether a six-year-old can determine their biological sex. What was once a psychological case study now reads like official policy.
The environment, too, seems to be whispering warnings. Fires rage through once-temperate forests. Once-dormant volcanoes bubble ominously. Fish beach themselves by the hundreds. Rivers run red—sometimes metaphorically, sometimes not. Satellites detect anomalies in Earth’s magnetic field; scientists quietly note an acceleration in pole drift. Sunspot activity peaks. Even seasoned geologists admit that “something’s off.”
And all of this unfolds against a backdrop of cultural disorientation. Billionaires build rockets while the poor line up at food banks. Cities crumble while fortunes are made on imaginary real estate in the metaverse. High-tech corporations proclaim environmental justice while churning out devices destined for landfill in 18 months. Drag queens read to toddlers. Nudity parades through downtowns. Schools ban Shakespeare but not smut.
Everywhere, the ordinary seems infused with the surreal.
But it’s not just the oddities themselves—it’s the accumulation, the layering, the sheer density of the bizarre that lends our time its peculiar hue. If past eras were defined by wars or revolutions, ours is defined by confusion. The uncanny has ceased to be exceptional. It is now ambient.
We no longer ask, “Is this normal?” because there is no consensus on what normal even means.
And perhaps that’s the strangest part of all.