Anthony Peake, Author of the Month for April 2009
The Case For The Daemon
By Anthony Peake
Can there ever be a rationally satisfying and scientifically based explanation as to what happens to consciousness at the point of death? Anthony Peake believes that there can be and that the explanation in no way invalidates long held religious beliefs about life after death. The way in which to "Cheat The Ferryman" to term his theory, lies deep within the structures of the brain itself - an area where thought itself touches upon the very building blocks of reality. We welcome Anthony Peake as April 2009 Author of the Month. His article offers an introduction to the central elements of his theory and an opportunity for those interested to discuss the idea and offer their own opinions and experiences.
Anthony Peake lives near Liverpool in England. As well as writing two books he has also written many articles for magazines and journals in the USA, Canada, Australia, South Africa and the UK. He is also regularly in demand as a lecturer and public speaker.
On July 25th 2009 he will be involved in a Platform event at The National Theatre in London. He will be discussing the time theories of J W Dunne.
For details on Anthony's work please check out his website at:
"Each human being is the dwelling place of an infinite power - the root of the universe" -
The woman had settled down to a quiet evening in, curled up with a book. She was engrossed in the story and at first was not sure what she had heard. It then repeated itself. It was a voice that was somehow inside her head and yet not part of her thought processes.
The voice was absolutely insistent. It had arrived from nowhere and was quite clear about its purpose. It told her that she had a medical problem but that she was not to worry because it was there "to help her".
After a few weeks of these strange communications, some of which where precognitive, the woman, known as AB, decided that her only course of action was to go and see her doctor. The local doctor simply could not understand what was happening but assuming that the problem was psychological referred her to Dr Ikechukwu Azuonye of the Mental Health Unit at London's Royal Free Hospital. In the winter of 1984 Dr Azuonye diagnosed a straight-forward case of hallucinatory psychosis. He prescribed a course of the anti-psychotic drug thioridazine and expected that would be the end of it. How wrong he was.
Initially the thioridazine seemed to work. Thinking the voice was simply a peculiar psychological interlude AB and her husband went off on holiday. However whilst out of the country, the voice had found its way through the drug barrier and was more insistent than before. It pleaded with her to return to England as soon as possible saying that she needed urgent medical treatment. Indeed it even told her an address that she should go to for help.
The voice was now becoming quite precise as regards AB's medical problem. It told her that it had two reasons for wanting her to have a scan - firstly that she had a tumour in her brain and, secondly, that her brain stem was badly inflamed. She convinced her husband that they had to go and find the address the voice had told her. Much to her surprise, and concern, the address turned out to be the computerised tomography unit of a large London hospital.
This scared her so much that she went back to see Dr Azuonye. The psychiatrist was, not surprisingly, reluctant at first to do as the voice requested. He knew that the woman had none of the symptoms associated with a brain tumour and for him to force the issue would reflect badly on his professional reputation - particularly if he divulged the source of the diagnosis. Against his better judgement he agreed that he would write to the clinic and see what they said. AB agreed and Dr Azuonye took her home.
A few months later, and after many letters, the clinic agreed to do the scan. Much to the surprise of all concerned, with the clear exception of 'the voice', the scan clearly showed an unusual mass in the brain.
AB was called in to meet with a neurological consultant. The consultant explained that the mass was probably a "meningioma tumour". As he said this, AB heard the voice agree with this diagnosis. However the voice was concerned that there had already been too much delay. It demanded that she be operated on straight away. Not only this but the voice wanted the operation done at Queen's Square Hospital. This was because it knew that that particular hospital specialised in neurological diseases.
This time the hospital authorities agreed, but the operation was to take place at the Royal Free. The voice considered this and decided that it was acceptable. A few days later AB, and, presumably, the voice itself, were under full anaesthetic and being wheeled into an operating theatre.
As AB came too after the operation the first thing she was aware of was the voice. All the insistence had gone. It said "I am pleased to have helped you. Goodbye".
When the surgeon came round to see her she already knew that her life had been saved. He explained to her that he had removed a 6.4cm (2.5 inch) tumour from her brain. He added that he was sure that had it not been removed she would have most certainly died.
Over the years this case continued to fascinate Dr Anzuonye. By 1997 he had moved to Lambeth NHS Trust and had mentioned the AB case many times to his associates. He found that the response was always either extremely positive or extremely negative and with this in mind he decided to submit an article describing the event to the British Medical Journal. He was pleased when he received a positive response and the article appeared the December edition.
Many hypothetical suggestions were made as to what had taken place in 1984 but none have been considered satisfactory. However there is now a possible answer to the question of what was happening to AB and what was the source of 'the voice'.
Who or what was this 'voice' and how did it know what was about to take place? How did it know that AB was dangerously ill? How did it know exactly what the cure could be? And how did it know who would be of the greatest help Could it be that we all have a secret lodger in our brain - a being that has knowledge far greater than that of our own?
The central concept of my recent book The Daemon, a Guide to Your Extraordinary Secret Self is exactly this; that all conscious beings consist of not one but two semi-independent entities - one of which knows what will happen in the future. In this article I wish to present the evidence for such an idea. I will firstly review the philosophical, historical and theological background to such a belief and then I will apply some astonishing evidence from modern neurology and consciousness studies that may show that such a belief may, in fact, be true.