Blind Belief Can Be Comforting,

I Want To Be Cremated, And I Want My Ashes Blown In Uri Geller's Eyes.

There Was A Small Boy On Crutches. I Do Not Know His Name, And I Suspect I Never Will. But I Will Never Forget His Face, His Smile, His Sorrow. He Is One Of The Millions Robbed Of Hope And Dignity By Charlatans Discussed In This Book. Wherever And Whoever He Is, I Apologize To Him For Not Having Been Able To Protect Him From Such An Experience. I Humbly Dedicate This Book To Him And To The Many Others Who Have Suffered Because The Rest Of Us Began Caring Too Late.

There Exists In Society A Very Special Class Of Persons That I Have Always Referred To As The Believers. These Are Folks Who Have Chosen To Accept A Certain Religion, Philosophy, Theory, Idea Or Notion And Cling To That Belief Regardless Of Any Evidence That Might, For Anyone Else, Bring It Into Doubt. They Are The Ones Who Encourage And Support The Fanatics And The Frauds Of Any Given Age. No Amount Of Evidence, No Matter How Strong, Will Bring Them Any Enlightenment. They Are The Sheep Who Beg To Be Fleeced And Butchered, And Who Will Battle Fiercely To Preserve Their Right To Be Victimized.

However, I Believe That It Would Be Difficult To Have Legitimate Scientists Agree To Participate.

They Would Have Been Very Let Down If They Had To Leave The Theater And He Had Missed. He Would Feel Badly. Everyone Would Feel Badly. But He Never Let Them Down.