Paris Jackson, spoonbender app

This article draws from various interviews & correspondence with myself, Dr. J. Sarfatti, Dr Hal Puthoff, Dr. S. Blackmore, astronaut Edgar Mitchell, Russell Targ & Eldon Byrd.


Hanna and I are very blessed with our wonderful son and daughter, and I’ve always been quietly proud of how much both of them look like both of us. But if we had chosen to adopt a family, of course, I know we would have loved our children just as much.

Celebrity adoptions have been splashed all over the front pages, with Angelina Jolie’s rainbow family and Madonna’s battle with authorities in Africa.

Many of my friends have adopted children, and several have IVF babies. The science that makes this possible is marvellous, but the biology isn’t important. The only element that really matters is the love.

Michael Jackson told me frankly that he was thinking of asking his close friend Mark Lester, the star of Oliver!, to help him father a child. Knowing Michael, this would not have been the only idea in his head — he always had a collection of competing notions, buzzing around his brain. That was a key to his creativity.

Whether Mark’s sperm, or Michael’s, or somebody else’s, supplied the scrap of DNA that became Paris Jackson, Michael’s beautiful daughter, is irrelevant to me. My friend was incredibly lucky to have such a talented, loving and spiritual little girl, and he was grateful for her and his two sons every day of his life.

It’s heartbreakingly sad to me that, just weeks after losing their father — and making the shattering discovery that he was world-famous and surrounded by virulent controversies — Michael’s children should have to face such searching questions about their own identity.

One bookmaker is offering odds that DNA tests will eventually prove that I am the natural father of Paris. I hope that none of my readers would be silly enough to waste their money on such a bad joke.

And while I’m mopping up controversies — regular readers will know that one of my favourite possessions is a small, pale, egg-shaped object, given to me by my friend John Lennon in New York. John insisted he had been given the object by visitors who seemed extraterrestrial, who appeared in his room at night in a halo of night and who communicated with him via telepathy.

John always vowed he had not been under the influence of any stimulants, and I know he was certain in his heart that he had been contacted by beings from another dimension or planet.

Sceptics have accused me of inventing this story, but every word of it is true — and I was delighted to find a short clip of video which proves beyond doubt that the egg really did belong to John.

In fact, he had two of them, and my intuitive feeling is that either Yoko was also approached with a gift by these beings, or that John was given two eggs, one for him and one for his wife. Only Yoko can answer that.

If you want to see the clip, it’s on my website — the shortcut is here

It’s a great source of joy that John entrusted such a mysterious artefact to me. I’ve sometimes wished I could have owned his psychedelic Rolls Royce too, but the last time that went up at auction it fetched more than a million dollars.

My own Jaguar, which has been sold via eBay, went for an astonishing $6,000 — far more than I could have expected to get for it from a dealer.

It was bought by a West Country property developer and his wife, who modestly asked me not to reveal their names. They made a present of their car to their accountant, Wing Nin Chan, who is a Jaguar enthusiast.

The best part is that all the money goes to my friend Kenneth Kaunda’s charity for children with AIDS. The former Zambian president is in his eighties and making tireless efforts to wipe away prejudice around the disease. I’m thrilled to help.




My BlackBerry is as much a part of my family as my dog, Barney, but I confess I was intrigued when I discovered an application called GellerSpoon, which is available only on the BlackBerry’s deadliest rival, the iPhone.

For 59p, users can download a program which projects a spoon onto their phone screen. Touch it and repeat the words One-Two-Three-Bend, and the spoon bends.

It’s not as satisfying as the real thing, but it’s easier and it does less damage. I’m talking to the developer, Sebastian Schmid in Switzerland, about my concept for another Geller app… a watch which the user starts and stops with the power of the mind.


I’m always delighted to see contestants from my shows again, especially when they’re as brilliant as Lior Suchard, the winner of my spectacular TV series in Israel. Lior, a mentalist of genius, was in London for a show, and he joined me for dinner in one of my favourite Turkish restaurants on the Edgware Road.



At the end of the meal, he had the chutzpah to pick up a coin and before my eyes make it bend, apparently by staring at it.

Lior makes no claims to parascientific powers. His metal-bending and mine are planets apart, the effects of utterly different techniques. But I have to say I’ve got no idea at all how he does it!

To be fair… I don’t really understand how I do it either!





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