Funny Stories - Psychology 101

I learned to hypnotize myself when I was at Northern State College. My goal was to develop better study habits. I was impressed with myself, and soon started practicing on my friends. I developed a reputation, and people began expecting me to entertain them at parties.

One time I hypnotized a young newlywed and told her that she would not be able to remember her husband's name. She never said a word when she woke up, but you could see the desperation in her face. She rubbed her wedding ring furiously as if doing so would produce his name. We asked her questions designed to elicit his name. She reddened, and then she turned purple. I had to tell her what it was all about.

My favorite technique was to use a hypnotic wheel with swirling colors that would literally draw you into a light trance. Aboard ship, I found that if I mounted it on the film supply wheel of our movie-printing machine, it would turn at just the right speed.

"Hey Russell! Can you hypnotize me so that I can get up in the morning? I sleep right through reveille every morning. One of these days I'm going to get into real trouble."

"I can try, Charlie. Step into my office and have a seat. Take a deep breath, relax, and just watch the wheel go around. You will begin to feel like you are moving into the wheel. Just relax and let it happen. Breathe deeply. Feel the relaxation flowing through your body."

Charlie's eyes closed. I had him tense and relax all the muscles in his body.

When he was ready, I said, "You will hear reveille in the morning, and you will sit right up. While the bugle plays the notes you will say the following words to yourself in synch with the music: I can do get up. I can do get up. I can do get up in the morning."

The next morning, I couldn't wait for quarters, so I could ask Charlie what happened, but he didn't show. When he came in two hours later, he had a large bandage on his forehead.

"I guess I should have told you; I sleep on the top bunk and there's this pipe just over my head."

One day John Wayne came to me for help. No, not THE John Wayne, Petty Officer Third Class John Wayne. John had a serious problem. The problem was made worse by his new girlfriend, Emily Hutchinson. He was real fond of Emily, but Emily was going to dump him if he couldn't solve his problem.

You see, Petty Officer John Wayne couldn't finish a sentence without the "f" word or some variation of it. It was f-ing this and f-ing that, f-you and even f-me. It was a word we heard often at sea, but never in such quantity from one man. We had all gotten used to it, but Emily refused to, and she really liked John. And, John was a good man, except for his addiction to the "f-word."

Well, you know me; I thought I could do anything, so I said, "Sure, John, I can fix it." We planned to meet late at night. John didn't want an audience, but he brought two of his friends, and he said it was okay if my friend Bill watched.

It went well. John was an excellent subject; he quickly went into a deep trance.

"John, you won't use the "f-words" anymore. You won't even think of them. Emily will be proud of you. On the count of five, you will wake up feeling fine. How do you feel, John?"

"I fe fe fa fu fu fe fu eeee eeee eeeg eeeg oh ah ah I fe fe fu fu fu EEEE EEEE EEEG EEEG. EEEEG. EEEG. EEEG. OOH. EEE EEE OH OH AG. AG. AG. AG. EIEIEIG."

John could not talk, and he was becoming extremely agitated. He stood up, arms flaying. "AAAHG! AAAHG! EEEEEG! AAAAHG!" He did manage to point at me even while his arms were flaying around. "AAAHG! AAAHG! AAAHG!"

I put my arms around him and captured his arms. He was struggling to get free, but I held him as still as I could, and started talking softly into his ear.

"Relax John. Don't try to talk. We'll fix it, John. Take a deep breath, John. We'll put it back the way it was."

"NG NNNG NNG NNG."

"We don't have any choice, John. It isn't working. We have to put it back the way it was."

John started crying, "ANGANGANGANGANG."

He stopped struggling, and I put my left hand over his eyes and massaged the back of his neck with my right hand. "Relax John. It's going to be okay. You'll be alright." I put my foul weather jacket on the floor for a pillow and got John to lie down. I kept my hand over his eyes.

"Relax, John. Don't try to talk. Take a deep breath. Remember how you felt when you were under? You feel that same way now, John. You feel very, very relaxed."

It took an hour to get John under again. I told him he could say the "f-word" and "f-ing" as often as he wanted to, and that he could talk clearly and fluently. I asked him how he felt when I woke him up.

"What the f*#@ did you do to me? I don't feel so f*#@-ing good. That's the last f*#@-ing time I'll ever ask you for help."

I grinned from ear to ear. That was my old friend John. The "f-word" never sounded so good.

I hadn't done John any good, but I was still impressed with my success at getting John in and out of a trance and myself in and out of trouble. Everyone went to bed except my friend Bill and me.

"Bill," I said, still full of myself, "You know who would make a good subject? Joe, Joe Foss. He talks in his sleep all the time. Have you ever heard him talk in his sleep? People who talk in their sleep are supposed to be very good subjects for hypnosis."

"How can you hypnotize them if they are asleep?"

"Supposedly, you just talk to them as if they were already in a trance."

"This I've got to see."

I slept in a middle bunk. Joe Foss had a top bunk across from me. That's how come I knew he talked in his sleep. I heard him jabbering all the time. Joe Foss was sound asleep when we arrived.

"Joe," I said, "give me your billfold."

Joe reached up, turned on his bunk light, rolled over, dialed in his combination, opened his locker, handed me his billfold, closed his locker, turned out his light, and lay back down.

I was flabbergasted. I had read about it, but I didn't expect it to work that well. I was a bit embarrassed, standing there in the middle of the night holding Joe's billfold.

"Joe, put your billfold away."

Joe went through the motions again, tucking his billfold safely away in the process. Bill was duly impressed, and said so as he said good night.

The stories were already zooming around the lab when I arrived in the morning.

"Did you hear what Russell Quigley did to John Wayne? He hypnotized him and screwed him up so bad he couldn't talk."

"And I heard he goes around the compartment at night getting people's billfolds. How does he do that?"

About an hour after quarters, Commander Bunch came back to the movie room. "Hey, Russell, I hear you've got quite a setup back here. He stepped around the movie printer to where he could see my hypnotic wheel. He pulled it off the film supply wheel.

"Those your psychology books?"

"I, um, yes, sir."

"Pick them up. Come with me."

The photo lab was one deck below the hangar bay on the starboard side. It was a long walk back to the fantail. When we got there, Commander Bunch threw the hypnotic wheel over the railing and into the sea, and then he just looked at me in silence. I hesitated, but then I threw my books over the railing and into the sea.

You can't fight people like Commander Bunch. He was big like the real John Wayne, but he was nothing like him. I mean the real John Wayne played a hero; in my book, Commander Bunch was one.

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