by Prof. R. P. Oliver

June 1987

You surely remember Uri Geller, the marvelous Jew-boy with an Einsteinian brain, which cerebrated so dynamically that he could bend spoons by just thinking about them. His phenomenal powers, scientifically called "psychokinesis" and scientifically tested and certified by the great scientists of the Stanford Research Institute, were exhibited to many suckers, for their spiritual edification and financial depletion, until the trick was exposed by James Randi, a professional magician, whose powers were far greater than Uri's.

Since the exposure of their gullibility, nothing has been heard of the experts in electronics and bioengineering at Stanford. It is likely they escaped embarrassment by going on a polar expedition and using their scientific gear to locate the factory in which Santa Claus makes toys for good boys and girls.

After Mr. Randi's devastating visit to Palo Alto, psychokinetic Uri faded, like Alice's Cheshire cat, from view in the United States, and you may sometimes have wondered, as I did, what became of him.

The Sunday edition of the (London) "Mail," 19 October 1986, informs us that Geller has decided to adorn England with his presence, supercharged brain and all, and has just purchased a home overlooking the Thames, a mansion for which he paid #1,000,000.

Uri says he has netted #25,000,000 out of bending spoons and using his big mind's transcendental powers as a "psychic." He also says that he is kept on retainer by "multi-national oil companies," who thus reserve the right to consult him at need. His minimum fee for a consultation, it would appear, is #18,000. The corporations managed by morons were not named.

The "Mail on Sunday," by the way, has openly called Geller a fraud and offered to pay #20,000 for just one demonstration of a psychic power in conditions that preclude the usual cheating. The newspaper, needless to say, does not run the slightest risk of adding its mite to Uri's Solomonic income.

The next time anyone quotes the old chestnut about honesty being the best policy, even in a "democracy," you may point to the great spoon-bender in his million-pound mansion, where he is doubtless now sitting happily, looking out over the Thames, chortling over his twenty-five million pounds in the bank, and rejoicing over the infantile credulity of "goyim."