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Earth is… weird. And now, there’s evidence to back it up.
All over the world, thousands of people report weird lights in the sky, lost time, strange creatures in the woods, lake demons, and a whole gambit of other hair-prickly strangeness.
However, a recurring problem has been the disparate nature of personal accounts. Until lately, there’s never really been a global repository to catalog all these personal encounters. If only Google Earth just had a haunted dark mode where we could see where all this weirdness is actually happening.
Well, that’s basically what Liminal Earth have created with their global paranormal map at Liminal.earth. Emerging from the fog of the Pacific Northwest, the Liminal Earth database is open for anyone to catalog their personal encounters with the unknown.
Jeremy Puma and Garrett Kelly are former bloggers turned adventurers out of Seattle, Washington, creating a genre of paranormal investigation team called ‘Liminal Earth’. Together they track down some of the strangest stories imaginable, investigate them, and bring them to the public’s light.
Garret Kelly and Jeremy Puma are searching for all things strange in Seattle. Crowd sourcing the cryptic on a just-launched website, Liminal Seattle. It’s a ghost map – with more.
You think you know the Puget Sound… but you have no idea. There are demons, ghosts, and gangs of people pulling wet wipes out of subway sandwiches on the bus. To help you track them, Jeremy Puma and Garrett Kelly are mapping the city’s weird in a project called Liminal Seattle
Seen something strange in Seattle? Felt something you can’t explain, like a mysterious presence on a Georgetown porch, a canoe that seems to be paddling itself, a haunting hum on Vashon Island — or a place where the veil between this world and the next seems thin?
If so, you’re not alone.
According to people who say they are sensitive to these kinds of things, Seattle and its surrounds are magical places of unusual spiritual resonance.
For the last few years, state lawmakers have attempted to pass bills recognizing Bigfoot as the official state cryptid. But Kelly argues that Shrimpy would be a much better representative of the state’s liminal community.
He’s asked state Sen. Emily Randall, who was born in Bremerton and co-sponsored the Bigfoot bill, for her support in elevating Shrimpy’s status.
“You’ve got to represent Shrimpy if you’re going to be doing this,” Kelly laughed.
Randall said she co-sponsored the bill with her brother mind; he happens to be a big Sasquatch fan. Randall didn’t know about the story of Shrimpy until she ran into Kelly at an art gallery recently.
“I told (Kelly) I’m open to being persuaded that Shrimpy deserves more recognition,” Randall said.
Kelly’s dream would be to open a “Liminal Travel Bureau” in Bremerton to help others learn about the weird and unusual phenomena. Until then, Kelly said he wants to search out other unusual Kitsap-centric stories. He encourages others to get out and explore.
“I think it’s OK to kind of engage with the weird mysteries, I think it’s good for you, it’s good to challenge yourself and challenge your assumptions about things,” Kelly said.
Experts from Liminal Seattle, trackers of all things weird, wonderful, and paranormal across Capitol Hill and beyond, tell CHS they have been unable to determine exactly what caused the late June disappearance of the mystery soda machine from E John.
Founded by Seattleites Garrett Kelly (@boontdustie) and Jeremy Puma, the Liminal Seattle map is the region’s new go-to tool for tracking “fairies, ghosts, bigfoot, time travelers, extraterrestrials, ultraterrestrials, crow conferences, sentient lawn computers, lanyard’d ogres, broccoli wizards, etc.” It extends beyond the Seattle city limits a bit — my hometown of Kirkland, WA has a “Strange Animals” pin on it about some recent bear sightings (I don’t remember ever hearing about bears roaming around our town, so I think that counts).
A new map of Seattle has emerged on the internet in the last week. It’s a crowdsourced document where people can list all the unusual, fantastic, and paranormal experiences they’ve had around the area. Liminal Seattle tracks these experiences and puts them on a map for everyone to see.
Calling all Seattle-area Mulders, leave your Scully at the door: Ever feel an unexplained cold spot? Or maybe a mysterious smell of sulfur and a feeling of dread? Maybe you’ve got a plethora of cryptoid run-ins or have a detailed account of a fairy sighting. Whatever it is, Liminal Seattle, the new crowdsourced map of the paranormal, wants to know about it.
“You know how sometimes you lose chunks of your life on the internet in a heartbeat? When I first encountered the website Liminal Seattle, I immediately lost half an hour, just clicking around and reading the crowdsourced stories of weird experiences Seattleites have had in the region. In fact, I defy you to maintain self-control while flicking around Liminal Seattle. The little pinpoints on the map, with their tiny descriptions of bizarre occurrences, are just interesting enough to get you to click through. Consider the ghost canoe in the center of Lake Washington, “apparently with a Lime Bike on deck,” or the sad story of Edward Lighthart, a full-grown man who wandered out of Discovery Park with no recollection of his own personal history. The map also demarcates Seattle’s very own “Hellmouth” — the lines of which seem to hew very closely to the borders of South Lake Union.”
“Seattle is a city haunted, and not just by the people who keep flocking to our fair city. No, there are spookier fish to fry, and a new project hopes to crowdsource those eerie occurrences, with the hopes of bringing us all together.”
Submissions so far range from very specific animal encounters—”I once saw a squirrel sitting on a huge pile of horse chestnuts going to town on a chocolate donut” near Interlaken Park—to the story of a ghost encounter in a Madison Park restaurant. Occasionally, things do veer into “spontaneous mythologizing”: “there’s a water spirit shrine in Cal Anderson park at the weird kiddy pool that’s always dry,” reads one submission. “It’s where the water is supposed to bubble out from.”