I tried talking to McCord: I told him to listen while I projected his voice: I said, “Can you hear me, now?”      “But McCord only heard someone—maybe it was my voice, or a blend, say “I can’t hear you.”  That was not something he projected.  That was something he heard.  Then McCord got […]

       Now, when I shifted into Hitler’s head, I didn’t do it chronologically; that probably had something to do with my state of mind, or whatever served the interest of my futuristic self.  This time around he was thinking about his dog, Blondi, a female German shepherd that was given to him in 1941.      

     When I feel bad, I feel bad because I’m not listening to myself.  I try to pay attention, therefore, to the voices and images I’m hearing and seeing in my head and make some sense out of it.  I made a breakthrough the other day: it occurred to me that you have good artists

monotone: dead to the world—and so the world is dead to me; if  I can’ t be myself, then I’ll be what the German people need—a voice.       I hate this feeling i get after a speech—and before my shot of oxycodone, when the truth, as I see it, is revealed.  People don’t like the

     When you take Pervitin everything goes to your head and you’re on high alert—you do it to eavesdrop on good people talking to each other across time and space, and you convince yourself that those people are talking about you.  You feel, then, that destiny is calling you, and you put your best foot

     “You want me to be like you,” I said, in my voice, to the future me—where me could simply mean the person that I would be if I hadn’t vetoed various parts of myself for any number of reasons.  That me, then, was everything that I could be, but cannot be, and, as such,

     So Regina was inside Hitler’s head—and she could hear her thoughts, strangely enough, in Hitler’s voice, and she heard Hitler’s thoughts through her voice.  Then she would often correct Hitler’s thoughts, and, when she did, she found herself communicating with some wayward chosen one from the future.  But how could you speak with the

          What was Mark McCord going to do?  He thought about it, and, perhaps he was a little jealous, but he wasn’t uptight about anything, so he decided he’d go live in Eva Braun’s body—while his body existed in the shadows of a former ancestor or longtime family friend.  The fascinating thing about Eva Braun

     Mark McCord was worried that the drugs Hitler was putting into his body would be bad for Regina.  Would Hitler’s drug induced mania affect her thoughts, and, if he could affect her thoughts, could he affect her actions, or her health?  Mark was still trying to come to terms with some of the things

     But Regina wasn’t just hopping around in time for kicks.  She knew, or she thought she knew, that you can’t correct the past in order to correct the future; but what if that only applied to big changes?  What if you could make little corrections to the past that would reshape the future—so long