I was rather interested in the following exchange about the Cosmic Mind sending clues to future events ahead of time.
Q: (Niall) They've said in the past that a Batman movie that was released in 2012-ish, which had references to the Sandy Hook shooting in the movie, even though it came out beforehand, was an instance of the Cosmic Mind sending many clues ahead of time. With the Charlie Kirk shooting, there's a 1998 Hollywood movie called Snake Eyes that has loads of similarities with the Kirk assassination. Was this another instance of that?
A: Yes there are many such instances.
Although the examples mentioned above relate to movies, I wonder if it is also true about books. I say this because I came across an example of predictive writing only recently in an article published in the UK's Daily Mail newspaper. Because the writer was French and released his book in France, I had not encountered it before, as I don't think his work of fiction gained any traction in English speaking countries. The author was Jean Raspall, a French writer and explorer, and the book concerned was 'The Camp of the Saints', a title drawn from a verse in the Book of Revelations or the Apocalypse of Saint John, which speaks of a prophecy that when the world is about to end, Satan would gather armies from the four quarters of the Earth and send out invaders "the number of whom is as the sand of the sea". These armies will surround "the camp of the saints", the last bastions of civilisation.
The book has recently been published for the first time in Britain, more than half a century after its original publication in 1973 in France where it caused quite a stir when it first appeared. Le Figaro, the French right-wing newspaper for whom Raspall wrote, panned the novel. Left-wing newspapers refused to review it. The first print run of the book failed to sell.
So, how did this controversial novel come about? Apparently, in 1971 Jean Raspall had an apocalyptic vision whilst staying at his villa located on the coast half way between Cannes and Saint-Tropez. Staring out across the sparkling blue waters of the French Riviera he imagined an invasion involving an armada of small boats crammed with immigrants packed so tightly that many were already dead, a million hungry, desperate people swarming on to the shore. Over the next few weeks Raspall would write frantically as if inspired. Quoting him:
"I had no plan and not the least idea of how things would go, nor of the characters who would populate my story. To my great surprise, my pencil raced unhindered across the paper. If ever I was inspired while writing a book, it was this one."
As the Daily Mail writer, Christopher Stevens, states:
"The Camp of the Saints is an extraordinary novel. Not all of it has come true of course - far from it. Its wilder excesses, plotline and ending stretch the limits of credulity. It reads instead like a war reporter's despatch from the mouth of Hell. Its plot is a meaningless cascade of murders, breakdowns and atrocities. Its characters are like stickmen [MJF: perhaps a reference here to the famous paintings of English artist L.S. Lowry whose works were often filled with "matchstick men" figures.] But Raspall writes with such energy, like a man possessed, that the book's 300 pages rush by.
It's a brutal, frequently sickening read. French literature often prides itself on how shocking it can be, but even by these standards Raspall is exceptional. His descriptions of the filth, degradation, sexual degeneracy and violence among the refugees is stomach-churning and at times shockingly racist.
But the novel is prescient in two remarkable ways. Firstly, there's the image of that tragic flotilla running aground on an idyllic coastline. Every day for the past ten years or more, this terrible picture has been a sad reality on the news. His nightmare vision also accurately predicted how the West would react: tormented by liberal guilt and fashionable self-loathing, the Europeans turn on each other.
The migrants inspire pity Raspall writes. "They are weak. They are unarmed. They have the power of numbers. They are the object of our remorse and of the wet-blanket humanitarianism of our consciences. And now that they are here, are we going to receive them in our home, at the risk of encouraging other flotillas or unfortunates."
An indecisive French government has no idea how to respond. It doesn't know how to round them up and send them back. It dare not intern them in refugee camps. And the idea of sending the navy to sink their boats is barbaric. Instead it blames the ordinary French people for failing to welcome the immigrants.
As demonstrations and violence break out between the locals and the new arrivals, the authorities issue an edict: Anyone found to have incited discrimination, hatred or violence against an individual or group of individuals on account of their origin or membership of a given ethnic group, nation, race or religion shall be punished with one month to one year's imprisonment and a fine ranging from 2,000 to 300, 000 Francs.
For Raspall to have thoughts of that, decades before the dawn of social media is uncanny. No wonder in later life the novelist wondered whether some unseen power had dictated the story to him as he wrote.
At this point, and as someone who lives in England, I can say that his novel eerily describes what is happening in England at the present time. For several years now, we have had tens of thousands of illegal migrants arriving on our southern shores in rubber dinghies supplied by criminal people traffickers. We presently have a government in power that wrings its hands about what to do over this crisis. It currently welcomes these illegal, so-called refugees by placing them in four star hotels and giving them benefits and free healthcare. Most of them happen to be single men of military age of whom we know nothing since they often throw away their identity papers before landing. Some of these refugees have gone on the commit serious crimes including murder and rape. Wherever the government establishes migrant hotels and centres, fear grips the local community as numerous young men who know little to nothing of our culture mill around the streets with little to do and plenty of time on their hands as their applications for asylum are slowly processed by the authorities. Many abscond and join the black economy, as they have no legal right to work here, whilst some join existing criminal gangs and networks. Even when convicted of crimes and imprisoned, they often avoid deportation due to tax funded legal assistance from a legion of human rights lawyers and the judgments of liberal minded judges who very liberally apply the protective provisions of the European Convention on Human Rights that Prime Minister Tony Blair incorporated into English law. Meanwhile the British people look on incredulously at this state of affairs wondering who will defend their rights to a quiet and safe life.
Many of those who have spoken out on social media with sometimes ill judged and inflammatory remarks, have found themselves visited by our thought police and in some cases prosecuted and put in jail for over the top, knee jerk reactions, mirroring what Raspall said in his novel about the French authorities' treatment towards those who showed hostility to the migrants. The current Labour government's measures to combat the issue falls far short of what the people expect and has seen their poll ratings nose dive even though they won an overwhelming Parliamentary majority in the national election only last year. Current polls are predicting that the Labour Party would be almost wiped out if an election were held tomorrow. There is no doubt that this is becoming an existential crisis made worse by the fact that the Labour Party relies very heavily on the migrant vote in most of England's cities, which are becoming increasingly sectarian in their politics. Meanwhile, in much of the country, the indigenous population are asking "can we have our country back".
Raspall predicted in his book that France would eventually descend into civil war with many Frenchman fighting on the side of the migrants. Could this be England's fate? I hope not. However, President Trump gave a stern warning to European governments at the United Nations during his address that illegal migration is undermining the very fabric of western Europe's civilisation. One can only hope this warning is heeded before it is too late.
Raspall's book has become something of an underground success in recent years. Although Raspall died in 2020 at the age of 94, he lived long enough to see his prophecy come true literally. In February 2001, a cargo ship with no name and no flag ran aground on the French coast. On board were 1,000 Kurdish refugees. Just as the book described, the boat beached half way between Cannes and Saint-Tropez, only 60 yards from Raspall's villa where he had first looked out to sea and imagined the immigrant invasion.
I wonder if any French Forum members have read Raspall's book. If so, I would appreciate their feedback and comments as to whether or not they think it may have been inspired by the Cosmic Mind.