He told me that the basic problem was that, as Voltaire tells us, "A witty saying proves nothing." The idea, he explained, applied just as well to extended good points and convincing arguments. He'd learned to present any argument as convincingly as possible, and that frustrated him. First, he was frustrated because sometimes, people believed what they wanted to believe, no matter how convincing the arguments. Sometimes, a convincing argument was just an annoying burden. Worse, though, he began to lose any sense of what was true, and what he believed, because the strength of the arguments outweighed any compelling human belief. In 1977, he stopped on the shoulder of the road, and saw that a blown-out tire was in the shape of a Möbius strip, and understood.
Understood what, I asked? He said that he'd been working with people exploring two things. The first was the blood of the Nephilim.
"You know how there's people who just seem to get it?" says Uncle George, "They're exceptionally bright, but it's more than that. They seem to have the ability to do whatever needs to be done, and they're creative and admirable. The only thing that blocks them is their own fears. You know them? They can spot each other, if not by sight, at least with a few minutes of conversation. Well, it looks like they are literally the descendents of the Grigori, the 'Watcher' angels who fell in love and thereby fell from Heaven. Giants who walk the Earth."
Naturally, anyone who espouses such a theory puts themselves in the category of the giants.
The other thing he's working on, he says, is abstract metallurgy.
"I've sort of lost interest in the traditional metals, but there's a few rare ores that I'm really curious about," says Uncle George, "Like qualite. It provides excellence and consistency to other metals, in an allow. Or gravite, which seems to be in high concentrations at the center of the earth. Or equite, which may actually be found in traces in the frame structures of Wall Street. And then there's clarite, levite, brevite (which I'm thinking should be suspended in tiny shavings in the lecture halls and conference rooms of the world), and amite."
"So," I asked him, "Is there an appropriate ore for every word derived from a 3rd-declension Latin adjective?"
He looked like he was about to come forward with a rational and insightful response which would lead me to his way of thinking, but then he thought better of it.