it's okay to record, post and monetizes (as long as you dont put it behind a paywall), just credit me.
feel free to tweak it, change the roles and pronouns, correct my orthography, just don't change it too much.
feedback is appreciated.
Dramatis personae:
The speaker: she is a nerd, she doesn’t take proud to it, but she isn’t ashamed either, she just likes what she likes, and has fun doing what she does, the alternative would be pretending to be something she isn’t and she’ll be damn before doing that, she doesn’t mind what people think she never has, but sometimes it gets to her when people tease her and make fun of her, but even that is fine, because she is the best friend of the coolest guy in school, and she knows he’s got her back, just so it's perfectly clear she has a crush on him, she recently realized.
The listener: he was a nerd from elementary all the way to the end of middle school, then he got a glow up and all of sudden everyone thought he was cool, he had to do nothing but stand there and look pretty for people to like him, they kinda just expected of him only what they could see, that made him a little bit mad, he is best friends with a nerdy girl, they known each other since forever, and that's also exactly how long he is been in love with her.
[SFX: bugs, birds, forest noises]
“let’s see...”
[pause]
“Map? Check"
[pause]
“Water? Check"
[pause]
“Compass? Check"
[pause]
“Camping equipment? Check”
[pause]
“Super expensive top grade photographic equipment that you said was a waste of money? Checkity check”
[pause]
“Come on, we are almost at the campsite.”
[pause]
“Are you serious?”
“Dude, are you seriously out of breath already? how come I got better physical condition then you?”
[pause]
“ohoho, I guess that’s what happens when you put all your EXP on charisma instead of stamina, ohoho”
[pause]
“That statement is inaccurate, many nerds are capable of athletic feats, we can be quite impressive when and if we want”
[pause]
“We just decide not to show it... for... reasons...”
[pause]
“Secret reasons”
[pause]
“What about you? Aren't popular guys supposed to be popular because they are good at sports?”
[pause]
“I know you aren’t in any team, but... I assumed...”
[pause]
“Huh, guess I shouldn’t have assumed, assumption is the enemy of truth”
[pause]
“So... Who or what do you think we are finding tonight?
[pause]
“that’s such a basic ass answer”
[pause]
“It is and you know it, think of something better”
[pause]
“Loch ness monster lives in Scotland”
[pause]
“Well, if we consider the fact that earth is hollow, I guess she could be anywhere, but nope, she likes that water, that’s where she lives”
[pause]
“No, no, no, same problem, the creature from the black lagoon can only survive in the waters of the rivers of south America, more specifically... in the black lagoon...”
[pause]
“The Jersey devil lives only in Jersey”
[pause]
“Come on, even I know the jackalope doesn't exist, be for real”
[pause]
“Yes, bigfoot does exist, according to the book of legendary and undiscovered creatures and entities, he lives farther north from here, but he is still sleeping this time of the year”
[pause]
“The place where I acquire, and the price of my book are irrelevant to our current quest”
[pause]
“So, what if it was in the dollar section on the bookstore?”
[pause]
“This is science!!! these are nothing but facts!!! And we are here to prove it”
[pause]
“This be a noble quest, a quest for truth and discovery”
[pause]
“The creatures and denizens of the forest shall only show themselves to the worthy”
[pause]
“And I have deemed you a true believer and chosen you as my companion, besides I don't have other friends, which is a little sad, but only if I dwell on it for too long”
[pause]
“Anyway, let's get to the campsite before it gets too dark”
[pause]
“Look, it’s just ahead”
[pause]
“Finally here, you need anything? Food? Water? To pee?”
[pause]
“Well, let’s rest before setting camp, we should have the tent up before the nightfall”
[pause]
“Although, I don’t expect us to sleep much tonight, in fact we aren’t getting any sleep, if you know what I mean”
[pause]
“What do I mean?”
[pause]
“I think you know it as well as I... Cryptids come at night, so naturally if we expect to see any, it’s necessary to stay awake until they appear”
[pause]
“Why? What were you thinking? Hooo, what exactly were you thinking? Alone in the woods with such a cute girl like little Ol 'me, hmmm”
[pause]
“Come on Mr. Lewdypants, go gather wood and I'll set the tent”
[pause]
[SFX: walking away]
“byeeee!!! [exhales] what did I say that? I’m such an idiot, what if he realizes I like him?... oh, fuck me, maybe he knows, he doesn’t, does he?”
[few moments later]
“You are back, did you see anything while you were away? Where you able to take a picture?”
[pause]
“While you were gone, I tried to set the tent then I realized that I don't know how so, can you?”
“hehehe, this kinda reminds me of when we were kids and we wanted to see if the easter bunny was real, so we camped on the garden, my mom was furious, oh, maybe we will find the easter bunny tonight”
[pause]
“I don’t appreciate your mocking tone, but maybe you are onto something, the possibility of Bugs Bunny (TM) being based on a real creature both fascinates me and frightens me”
[pause]
“The tent is up already? Well, I guess what’s next is making the fire, I’ll take care of it”
[pause]
“uhu... yes... let's see... oh that’s right I don’t know how”
[pause]
“What do I know how to do? Do I know anything about camping or the outdoors in general?”
[pause]
“of course, I do, I know... uhmm... not to eat the yellow snow? Which would be useful... if it was... snowing...”
[pause]
“Yes, I need help making the fire, please and thank you...”
[pause]
“I can help, I can give you moral support, you will be so morally supported your self-esteem will pour out of your body”
[pause]
“Yeah!!! Go!!! You can do it!!! huh, I kinda feel like one of those cheerleaders you are always flirting with at school”
[pause]
“Yes, you do, I have seen you”
[pause]
“Dude, I literally seen it, they are always crowding you and giggling like idiots, and trying to get all touchy-feely with you”
[pause]
“Like yesterday, when I approached you to invite you to come here, they looked at me with that look, you know the one, half pity, half condescendence, and a bit of hatred, like I'm some sort of strange creature”
[pause]
“And then they would say things like (making a high-pitched voice) ugh why does she think she can just come talk to him? Like who does she think she is? My god she is such a loser. why he wastes his time with her?”
[pause]
“I’ve heard them”
[pause]
“No, it doesn’t affect me, not really, not anymore”
[pause]
“Yeah, I know, I know I shouldn’t care about what they say, and I don’t, but thanks for the reassurance”
[pause]
“You know? That’s why I can walk up to you and invite you to do stupid shit like this in front of everyone, I know you won’t make fun of me, I know you won't think I'm cringe, even if I am, and I know you’ll probably say yes, right in front of everyone like you did”
[pause]
“it’s getting late, let’s just finish setting up camp, no more dilly dally”
[at night] [SFX: fireplace noises]
“Little bit left... that's too left... perfect!!! Actually no, it’s not”
[pause]
“What am I doing? I’m setting my telescope”
[pause]
“it’s too cloudy to see the stars, but I can still catch a UFO”
[pause]
“It doesn’t even have to be an UFO of extraterrestrial nature; it just must be unidentified and flying and preferably an object, a flying creature would be too risky”
[pause]
“Yes, we are here to look for creatures, creatures that live in land or water, not air”
[pause]
“Because I'm afraid of flying”
[pause]
“Yes, I would very much like a marshmallow, thank you”
[pause}
“I can't look away from the telescope I might miss something, just put it on my mouth, the marshmallow I mean”
[pause]
“aaaaaaahhhhhhhh, ow ow ow, hot hot hot, another one please”
[pause]
[SFX: Leafs rustling]
“You heard something?”
[SFX: howling in the distance]
“What was that?”
[pause]
“It wasn’t a werewolf, it’s not a full moon”
[pause]
“don´t say scary things like that, wendigos are bad, especially since I don’t remember any Anasazi symbol”
[pause}
“nooo, Skinwalkers are worse”
[pause]
“don’t talk about them, that’s how you attract them”
[pause]
“Wait a second, how do I know you are not a Skinwalker?”
[pause]
“Quick say something only the real you would know”
[pause]
“a secret only he knows”
[pause]
“wha???”
[pause]
“I can’t believe you are doing this right now... say it again, can you say it one more time?”
[pause]
“Me too, I like you too”
[pause]
“You really aren’t a Skinwalker right?”
[pause]
“Or any other sort of shapeshifter?”
[pause]
“Promise?”
[pause]
“In that case, scooch over, I declare this our first cuddling session, the forest critters can wait till tomorrow”
[end]

it's okay to record, post and monetizes (as long as you dont put it behind a paywall), just credit me.
feel free to tweak it, change the roles and pronouns, correct my orthography, just don't change it too much.
feedback is appreciated.
​
Dramatis personae:
The speaker: she is a nerd, she doesn’t take proud to it, but she isn’t ashamed either, she just likes what she likes, and has fun doing what she does, the alternative would be pretending to be something she isn’t and she’ll be damn before doing that, she doesn’t mind what people think she never has, but sometimes it gets to her when people tease her and make fun of her, but even that is fine, because she is the best friend of the coolest guy in school, and she knows he’s got her back, just so it's perfectly clear she has a crush on him, she recently realized.
The listener: he was a nerd from elementary all the way to the end of middle school, then he got a glow up and all of sudden everyone thought he was cool, he had to do nothing but stand there and look pretty for people to like him, they kinda just expected of him only what they could see, that made him a little bit mad, he is best friends with a nerdy girl, they known each other since forever, and that's also exactly how long he is been in love with her.
[SFX: bugs, birds, forest noises]
“let’s see...”
[pause]
“Map? Check"
[pause]
“Water? Check"
[pause]
“Compass? Check"
[pause]
“Camping equipment? Check”
[pause]
“Super expensive top grade photographic equipment that you said was a waste of money? Checkity check”
[pause]
“Come on, we are almost at the campsite.”
[pause]
“Are you serious?”
“Dude, are you seriously out of breath already? how come I got better physical condition then you?”
[pause]
“ohoho, I guess that’s what happens when you put all your EXP on charisma instead of stamina, ohoho”
[pause]
“That statement is inaccurate, many nerds are capable of athletic feats, we can be quite impressive when and if we want”
[pause]
“We just decide not to show it... for... reasons...”
[pause]
“Secret reasons”
[pause]
“What about you? Aren't popular guys supposed to be popular because they are good at sports?”
[pause]
“I know you aren’t in any team, but... I assumed...”
[pause]
“Huh, guess I shouldn’t have assumed, assumption is the enemy of truth”
[pause]
“So... Who or what do you think we are finding tonight?
[pause]
“that’s such a basic ass answer”
[pause]
“It is and you know it, think of something better”
[pause]
“Loch ness monster lives in Scotland”
[pause]
“Well, if we consider the fact that earth is hollow, I guess she could be anywhere, but nope, she likes that water, that’s where she lives”
[pause]
“No, no, no, same problem, the creature from the black lagoon can only survive in the waters of the rivers of south America, more specifically... in the black lagoon...”
[pause]
“The Jersey devil lives only in Jersey”
[pause]
“Come on, even I know the jackalope doesn't exist, be for real”
[pause]
“Yes, bigfoot does exist, according to the book of legendary and undiscovered creatures and entities, he lives farther north from here, but he is still sleeping this time of the year”
[pause]
“The place where I acquire, and the price of my book are irrelevant to our current quest”
[pause]
“So, what if it was in the dollar section on the bookstore?”
[pause]
“This is science!!! these are nothing but facts!!! And we are here to prove it”
[pause]
“This be a noble quest, a quest for truth and discovery”
[pause]
“The creatures and denizens of the forest shall only show themselves to the worthy”
[pause]
“And I have deemed you a true believer and chosen you as my companion, besides I don't have other friends, which is a little sad, but only if I dwell on it for too long”
[pause]
“Anyway, let's get to the campsite before it gets too dark”
[pause]
“Look, it’s just ahead”
[pause]
“Finally here, you need anything? Food? Water? To pee?”
[pause]
“Well, let’s rest before setting camp, we should have the tent up before the nightfall”
[pause]
“Although, I don’t expect us to sleep much tonight, in fact we aren’t getting any sleep, if you know what I mean”
[pause]
“What do I mean?”
[pause]
“I think you know it as well as I... Cryptids come at night, so naturally if we expect to see any, it’s necessary to stay awake until they appear”
[pause]
“Why? What were you thinking? Hooo, what exactly were you thinking? Alone in the woods with such a cute girl like little Ol 'me, hmmm”
[pause]
“Come on Mr. Lewdypants, go gather wood and I'll set the tent”
[pause]
[SFX: walking away]
“byeeee!!! [exhales] what did I say that? I’m such an idiot, what if he realizes I like him?... oh, fuck me, maybe he knows, he doesn’t, does he?”
[few moments later]
“You are back, did you see anything while you were away? Where you able to take a picture?”
[pause]
“While you were gone, I tried to set the tent then I realized that I don't know how so, can you?”
“hehehe, this kinda reminds me of when we were kids and we wanted to see if the easter bunny was real, so we camped on the garden, my mom was furious, oh, maybe we will find the easter bunny tonight”
[pause]
“I don’t appreciate your mocking tone, but maybe you are onto something, the possibility of Bugs Bunny (TM) being based on a real creature both fascinates me and frightens me”
[pause]
“The tent is up already? Well, I guess what’s next is making the fire, I’ll take care of it”
[pause]
“uhu... yes... let's see... oh that’s right I don’t know how”
[pause]
“What do I know how to do? Do I know anything about camping or the outdoors in general?”
[pause]
“of course, I do, I know... uhmm... not to eat the yellow snow? Which would be useful... if it was... snowing...”
[pause]
“Yes, I need help making the fire, please and thank you...”
[pause]
“I can help, I can give you moral support, you will be so morally supported your self-esteem will pour out of your body”
[pause]
“Yeah!!! Go!!! You can do it!!! huh, I kinda feel like one of those cheerleaders you are always flirting with at school”
[pause]
“Yes, you do, I have seen you”
[pause]
“Dude, I literally seen it, they are always crowding you and giggling like idiots, and trying to get all touchy-feely with you”
[pause]
“Like yesterday, when I approached you to invite you to come here, they looked at me with that look, you know the one, half pity, half condescendence, and a bit of hatred, like I'm some sort of strange creature”
[pause]
“And then they would say things like (making a high-pitched voice) ugh why does she think she can just come talk to him? Like who does she think she is? My god she is such a loser. why he wastes his time with her?”
[pause]
“I’ve heard them”
[pause]
“No, it doesn’t affect me, not really, not anymore”
[pause]
“Yeah, I know, I know I shouldn’t care about what they say, and I don’t, but thanks for the reassurance”
[pause]
“You know? That’s why I can walk up to you and invite you to do stupid shit like this in front of everyone, I know you won’t make fun of me, I know you won't think I'm cringe, even if I am, and I know you’ll probably say yes, right in front of everyone like you did”
[pause]
“it’s getting late, let’s just finish setting up camp, no more dilly dally”
[at night] [SFX: fireplace noises]
“Little bit left... that's too left... perfect!!! Actually no, it’s not”
[pause]
“What am I doing? I’m setting my telescope”
[pause]
“it’s too cloudy to see the stars, but I can still catch a UFO”
[pause]
“It doesn’t even have to be an UFO of extraterrestrial nature; it just must be unidentified and flying and preferably an object, a flying creature would be too risky”
[pause]
“Yes, we are here to look for creatures, creatures that live in land or water, not air”
[pause]
“Because I'm afraid of flying”
[pause]
“Yes, I would very much like a marshmallow, thank you”
[pause}
“I can't look away from the telescope I might miss something, just put it on my mouth, the marshmallow I mean”
[pause]
“aaaaaaahhhhhhhh, ow ow ow, hot hot hot, another one please”
[pause]
[SFX: Leafs rustling]
“You heard something?”
[SFX: howling in the distance]
“What was that?”
[pause]
“It wasn’t a werewolf, it’s not a full moon”
[pause]
“don´t say scary things like that, wendigos are bad, especially since I don’t remember any Anasazi symbol”
[pause}
“nooo, Skinwalkers are worse”
[pause]
“don’t talk about them, that’s how you attract them”
[pause]
“Wait a second, how do I know you are not a Skinwalker?”
[pause]
“Quick say something only the real you would know”
[pause]
“a secret only he knows”
[pause]
“wha???”
[pause]
“I can’t believe you are doing this right now... say it again, can you say it one more time?”
[pause]
“Me too, I like you too”
[pause]
“You really aren’t a Skinwalker right?”
[pause]
“Or any other sort of shapeshifter?”
[pause]
“Promise?”
[pause]
“In that case, scooch over, I declare this our first cuddling session, the forest critters can wait till tomorrow”
[end]

Rendlesham Forest Incident

Jim Penniston, one of two US servicemen at the location inspected a small triangular UFO for about an hour near RAF Bentwaters in 1980. Him and John Burroughs reportedly saw and touched a series of glyphs on the side of the craft. When Penniston touched the glyphs he "saw" thousands of consecutive zeroes and ones in his mind. After returning home, he felt a strong desire to write all of it down on paper, and filled 16 pages in a small notebook.
This notebook was put aside and not paid attention to until 2010 when Penniston realized the numbers could be binary code. After having it translated the notebook provided the following message:

EXPLORATION OF HUMANITY  8100 52 0942532 N 1 3131269 W CONTINUOUS FOR PLANETARY ADVANC(E) FOURTH COO(R)DINATE CONTINUOUS  BEFORE 16 (or 26) 763177 N 89 117768 W 34 800272 N 111843567 W 29 977836 N 31 131649 E 14 701505 S 75 167043 W 36 256845 N 117 100632 E 37 110195 N 25 372281 E EYES OF YOUR EYES ORIGIN 52 0942532 N 1 3131269 W ORIGIN YEAR 8100 

On May 30 2007 in Yatesbury, a crop circle appeared with a similar latitude and longitude message spelling out the coordinates 52 0942532 N 1 3131269 W, which is the exact location for the Rendlesham landing. In 2011 another appeared at Barbury Castle with similar iconography.

Wadley, Georgia 2015

A collection of large UFO's were seen flying over Atlanta and the southeast USA during the early morning of June 29th 2015. One of the UFO's had reportedly descended close to the ground near Wadley which was witnessed by a person in the military who is only known by the name "C.J.", and some other motorists nearby."C.J." said it looked like an "airplane on fire" because of an fire-like electrostatic discharge behind it. The reports say he was a trained military observer on active duty, and managed to see and note down its shape, and some strange symbols on its side.

"My wife and I had a very good look at the object closer than anyone else on that highway considering there was no vehicles in sight. The object had a dim glow of a orange around it, vague but noticeable. The objects exterior was metallic but appeared to look like oil on water effect to it and appeared to be fluid like movement over the metallic body of the object.
We watched in disbelief in what we were witnessing as it moved left to right the object decreased in altitude as it was over the highway then began to increase in altitude after it crossed the highway right overhead of us. We watched as it increased in altitude and penetrated some clouds and accelerated out of sight through the cloud cover quickly. "

John Burroughs immediately noticed this witness drew glyphs very similar to his own moment of contact back in 1980."C.J." goes on to tell that he and his family experienced hours of lost time during the observation.

“When it was directly overhead, and slightly in front of us, the (car head) lights dimmed down to nothing, the dashboard lights dimmed down to nothing, and the radio was nothing but static. The hair on my arms was standing up. We were watching it for no more than five minutes. When it was time for this thing to go, it increased in altitude, angled itself up and to the northeast, then began going up quickly, and went into some clouds. We saw some sparks jet out the back. Then it zipped off into the clouds very quickly.”
“It takes us normally four and one-half hours to get to Atlanta from Richmond Hill, Georgia. However somehow it took us eight hours (this time). Why did our GPS take us off-route to Wadley, Georgia? It dead-ended at a church, right next to a graveyard. Why was that our ‘final destination’?”

"C.J." also reported later seeing a long series of "squares" and "lines" in his mind, which he felt the need to write down, just like Jim Penniston in 1980.

“It is dark all the way around, and (mental symbols as squares or lines) are being scrolled from right to left. The symbols are slightly illuminated, like a light blue colour. "

He sees "open squares", "shaded squares", "thin lines" and "thick lines". Very similar to binary codes except with four symbols instead of two. ( IMAGE1 ) ( IMAGE2 )."C.J." seemed to know nothing about solving binary, or what any of the coded messages meant.
After the binary was solved by someone else, it was discovered the code had several overlapping messages in the same code, which is highly unusual and not really used... anywhere. "C.J." would have required expert help to not only "invent" this, but teach him how to write it all out.Explanation images here: ( IMAGE1 ) ( IMAGE2 ) ( IMAGE3 ) ( IMAGE4 ) ( IMAGE5 )
All the translated code became the following:

Continuous protection of humanity 49.27 n 11.5 e. Expose Hidden Knowledge to ALL `citizens. Advancement Imperative for planetary survival. Beware of Orion 1350.3 and Z Reticuli 39.179. Avoid [signal] messages sent. Imminent thrEat soon upon earths leaders and cIvzationS Expose and disbaNd Hidden knOWlEdge to all citizens eMploy sAfe and conRolled Joint study to all minds progrESsion imperaTIve for Combined survival eMbrace this (space) vessel threAt 000 Journey [12] ly Ikes embedded (ded) Citizens Are ready discLose (space) Evolve 111111 royal EMERTHER warning expose foreign technology to all evolutionary advancement needed to prevent takeover [3 '] 

Now you would notice there are some strange capitalizations and accented letters.If you extract them you get more messages. Some minimal reorganization of the letters is required but they are mostly in correct order.
First block: CHEcK ALL AI, ZORBA` Zorba is a greek word.
Second Block:EISENHOWER, MAJESTICSome letters are missing from the word "civilizations", namely ILI. Turn that into LII and you get the roman numeral for 52, the year Eisenhower reportedly met with Majestic 12.
Third block: MAJ 12, CIA
Fourth block: EMERTHER
In early 2016 during February or March, "C.J." sent out another coded message to his contacts.This time the resulting message was a form of simple phonetic Sumerian:
nabu rakbu 01 laraak sanu ki!
Directly translated to English this means:"prophet messenger 01 seeing the bright glow tell/inform the Earth!"
Seeing how these Emerther's seem to love sending messages through binary, one can wonder what else could be their work.
Sources for this can be found at cropcircleconnector.com and earthfiles.com

Having recently rewatched episode one, Ali and I continued our rewatching of Supernatural at a very logical place: the second episode.
Already, the two stars are building that brotherly chemistry for which they’re known.
Unfortunately, they still have to deal with a bit of clunkiness with the dialogue. For example, Sam describes the monster of the week as being corporeal, and because audiences might not be used to the term, Dean has to make a snide comment about the term.
But, really, there isn’t a better term to use there, and—although the brothers haven’t done much (any) hunting together in the past two years—surely, they would have used the term at some point in the past. No?
Alas, Dean’s unnecessary response embodies the sort of silliness shows have to have when they’re still new. (In that sense, it’s like the credit-card scamming dialogue from the first episode. Of course Sam knows his relations are still committing credit card fraud to fund their activities, but he has to say it out loud so that audiences know.)
What are “black dogs”? And why do Anasazi symbols ward off wendigos? Anywho.
When Sam is about to say “Wendigo” to the group, and Dean pushes him to stop him, and all he gets out is “Wen-,” Ali thought it was very well-timed, and worked in a very natural way. I felt there was something slightly off about it, but not enough to disagree.
It’s kind of weird: yeah, we’ll put Anasazi symbols around our encampment to ward off the wendigo, and tell you not to go beyond the Anasazi symbols, but Heavens forbid we tell you that it’s a wendigo with which we’re dealing. Sure, you won’t believe us even if we do, but, then, what reason have you to trust the Anasazi symbols do anything? Anasazi symbols won’t protect you from bears or other natural creatures, so why not just be up front and name the supernatural creature stalking y’all?
Flair guns—nice touch.

I commented on a post asking about this scene in the book, and I figured it was worth a post of its own.
In this scene there are plenty of possible references to other things in the book-- coins, funeral carriages, race, amorality, etc. I'm not offering any full explanations here, just compiling potential keys to understanding the symbols and themes in BM.
The setup might as important as the parable itself:

• They're sitting around and Marcus Webster of Tennessee criticizes Holden for trying to put all the world in a book. "Don't draw me" he says; he doesn't want to be in the judge's book.
  • The judge explains that it will be "My book, or some other book...", how "existence is tabernacled in others' conception of us in an endless complexity of being and witness". Part of our existence in this world is in others' conception of us in their own minds, and vice versa. Think even of how we view the people and events of the old west, how the stories in movies and books shape our living conception of those people, even when it's grossly misrepresenting how they actually lived.

They ate and moved on, leaving the fire on the ground behind them, and as they rode up into the mountains this fire seemed to become altered of its location, like some ignus fatuus...For this will to deceive that is in things luminous may manifest itself likewise in retrospect and so by sleight of some fixed part of a journey already accomplished may also post men to fraudulent destinies....The past that was differs little from the past that was not.

In each of us is a world.

• Holden then explains how he painted a man who became so obsessed with his likeness that he sought him out again to preserve it forever (a reference to the Nathaniel Hawthorne story The Prophetic Pictures?)
• Websters insists no, he's different, not a heathen savage but he still won't sit for a portrait. Then someone reckons the Indians there were passable masons, acknowledging their pueblo architecture.
  • Bear with me-- in the future I'll do a post here on Freemasonic elements in Blood Meridian (including the title itself!), but for now I'll note that in Freemasonry's 2nd degree the candidate is passed to the degree of the Fellowcraft. Entered Apprentices are initiated, Fellowcraft are passed, and Master Masons are raised to the sublime 3rd degree. I believe the term Fellowcraft actually appears in the fortune-telling scene, and later the pillars on Solomon's Temple, Boaz & Jachin, are mentioned. Freemasonry and fraternalism in general had major roles in the formation of the United States and the settling of the West. I think McCarthy is well aware of this.
  • You might familiarize yourself with the Masonic story of Hiram Abiff, the Widow's Son and chief architect in the building of King Solomon's temple, which is the allegorical basis for Freemasonry. Hiram is murdered by three Fellowcraft workers who try to obtain a secret from him, and then hide him in the wilderness where he is later discovered and given a proper funeral. Then re-read the parable of the harness maker in Blood Meridian.

Immediately after mentioning the Indians' masonry, the judge launches into the parable:

• Takes place in the West Alleghenies on a Federal Road, placing us sometime after the United States' founding in the 50 or so years prior to Blood Meridian. We meet a harness maker.
  • I'd love to hear any interpretations of the significance of that trade here. It evokes the same sense of "taming the beast" that the bear does for me at the end. Men sacrifice aspects of their nature to become like beasts in service of some other master-- to dance like bears and and be ridden like horses.
• The harness maker is pretending to be someone else, begging as a poor Indian on the road-- deceiving the world, hiding behind the likeness of something else. He refuses to live an honest existence.
• When the harness maker keeps pitifully begging to the traveler after he gives him two coins, the traveler tells him he is "lost to God and man alike and would remain so until he took his brother into his heart...and he came upon his own person in want in some desert place somewhere..."
  • Is this evoking the early scene where the Hermit, a former slaver, gives the kid shelter and shows him the blackened heart of the negro? The Hermit says that men should not know their own hearts, that it "...ain't the heart of a creature that is bound in the way God has set for it." Later we're told that the horrible creatures and men of the world are no more alien to it "...than were their own hearts alien in them, whatever wilderness contained there and whatever beasts".
  • We're reminded of the judge's coin trick around the fire, as well as the kid's dream of the cold forger minting counterfeit coins.
  • It might be notable that Masonic initiates are first asked to divest themselves of any coins or other metal objects. This is one of the first things that happens to a candidate and it symbolizes their spiritual destitution, naked and vulnerable to the world like an infant.
• When a "crazy black n*****" comes down the road leading a psychedelic funeral hearse (at which point the story is interrupted to note that the judge paused while reciting this detail to observe his audience), the harness maker's son somewhat randomly proclaims his equality among men. The harness maker's family is apparently eager to escape his insanity haha.
  • Are we getting a reference to the reversed carriage from Glanton's tarot card and from the massacre at the ferry?
• The harness maker finally succeeds in deceiving the traveler, walking out of sight and murdering him. He is free from the traveler's book, who had witnessed his despicable true form. He confesses on his death bed and is forgiven by his son, but his son scatter's the traveler's bones in jealousy and heads west, where "...he himself became a killer of men". In Freemasonry cardinal directions are primary symbols, and Masons frequently refer to themselves as "traveling East", toward the direction of the rising sun and where the Master sits in Lodge.
  • You could get Gnostic here and interpret the harness maker as the demiurge and his son as the judge, an archon. I'm not married to this explanation.
• The harness maker's wife tends the grave for the rest of her life, telling people her son was buried there, "...and perhaps by that time it was so". To me this line confirms this story as a parable, not a historical account.
• Holden adds that the dead traveler had a pregnant wife (a widow) who bore a son who "All his life he carries before him the idol of a perfection to which he can never attain"... His father has euchred him out of patrimony, and he is broken before a frozen god and will never find his way.
• Then judge Holden says "What is true of one man is true of many". Again, listen to the judge; the gang is being told that this story is about them; we are being told that it is about us.
• He then claims (and I'm not sure we should trust him) that the Anasazi are like the dead travelefather to his widow's son, and their spirit is entombed in the stone and the land. He who builds in stone seeks to alter the structure of the universe, and "so it was with these masons".
• In typical fashion he ends the story by sitting half naked and sweating, for all the night was cool.

I'd never claim that Freemasonry is the ultimate key to Blood Meridian or anything, but there is enough here and throughout the story to warrant an analysis. You could say the traveler represents Master Mason Hiram and the harness maker is the corrupt Fellowcraft who kills him.
His son is now a Widow's son, like Hiram himself-- but how could Hiram represent both the traveler and his son? Well, not to force a connection, but in the tradition of Freemasonry the story of Hiram Abiff is an allegory for the initiate himself-- for each of us mortals-- and his journey to become a Master Mason. Humanity is Solomon's Temple, each person a stone to be perfected and joined together with all others. Initiated at birth, in life he is a Fellowcraft. He may only be raised to the sublime 3rd degree if he attains wisdom, traveling East toward Light, using his working tools to perform right and just actions in life. It is our choice. The judge doesn't see things this way at all, and the entire project of hewing and fitting stones together goes against the natural order of the universe.
And the traveler's son does not go East, does he? He goes West and becomes a killer of men. Blood Meridian is a story about traveling West. There is another character in Blood Meridian who was the son of a widow, who is traveling the West, but eventually tries to travel East again...
On page 1 of Blood Meridian: "All history present in that visage, the child the father of the man."

We're living through not a traditionalist collapse, but the second-order simulation of collapse - the collapse of collective meaning. The real one comes later.
I'm not crazy, you're not crazy, but together we’re collectively crazy. Let me explain:
What we are currently rollercoastering along (us in God's own country), is the gradual shattering of the communal meaning of symbols. This is to say nothing of violence, climate change, plague, and social breakdown. The sum-of-all-ideas has decayed. Our collective ability to act upon the world around us has decreased. Predatory ideas - beautiful in their transmissible simplicity - are choking out the house of cards which scientists have built since the dawning of the Enlightenment. Like a grove of Kudzu, predatory falsity creeps over the semiotic landscape. The memeverse replaces discourse, just as TicTok replaces TV. Hypernormalisation, the misuse of words, and single-digit-second-long videos hide the vacuousness of modernity. Human rights have been curtailed. But it is only now that we notice the noose having tightened. The police state was already here. The brothers in the street knew it 40 years ago as their forefathers knew it on the slave ships.
To return to the click bait: we are seeing the rise of a contagious mental disease. A memetic, stochastic, hyper-neuro-techno-epistemological miasma. A disease which sees the complex technological world around us as natural. A mental contagion - one which destroys the Truth. Reality crumbles aided by biotechnological agents which are now evolving to prey on sentient life. Skies without stars, flowers without bees, land separated by asphalt, money without work, health without life. Beauty is simplicity. Ignorance is often said to be bliss, but we now inhabit a representation of the real world, a system of deliberate ignorance. An idiot nirvana, held within the torment nexus.
The vaulted kings of the capitalist order, despite their inherent superiority have failed. The conditions which allowed their rise, will not live longer than their artificially extended mortal coil. Cheap abundant energy, international cooperation, a lack of outright fascist ideology, a stable monetary system, functional ecological services and a general lack of deranged assholes operating in the open… We lack the slightest idea how to behave in all but the most favorable circumstances. Much less when there is a plague happening. Much less during the Greatest Depression 3.0, now with AI_Hitler™ by Metalphabet.
We know the coming recession is one straight out of the Panic of 1895, just as we have known the draft content of the supreme court jester's ruling long before its ghoulish reveal. We have known for years that the catholic majority would likely shake Roe's interpretation. We have known since 2014 that the court would fall to conservatives, although the rate was indeed, 'faster than expected.' The outrage is merely the realization of a white, urban, left-leaning creeping fascism having finally overstepped its sanitized boundaries of the female majority's social-media dominated Overton window. The criminalization of abortion and economic ruination is analogous to the war in Ukraine; a unthinkable but readily existent reality. Ruth Bader Ginsburg, in her wisdom and folly, knew Roe was unsound based upon the unenumerated right to privacy. A more sound ruling would use the Equal Protection Clause, but power is more attractive than good policy. With her death, the post-liberal simulation of governance faltered. Our referents to liberal policy, have been since 9/11 based mostly in fiction, stump speeches, and misplaced ideas of how the legal system works. The world that we have intuited is already dead. Uncle Thomas, Trump, Putin and Murdoch are just its gravediggers.
The death instinct has prevailed. A million people are dead in the US; the specter of war looms over Europe once more; the seas and skies and glaciers themselves buckle under the crushing weight of humanity; healthcare criminalized; rationality has ceased. Step back, see the cloying void but consider how we reached this point.
Our marvelous brains are excellent at watching plants grow from dirt. Our brains specialize in making changes to the environment to increase our own fitness. This meat calculator is for hunting and gathering and fighting and fucking. This blossomed from primitive structures like the firepit, the fish weir, and the metlapil into urban technological society. Yet as the ard destroyed the forests, through slash and burn; the horse collar and moldboard destroyed the grasslands, turning over rich sod of ancient prairies; the bessemer process has turned over whole mountain ranges, wrecking the delicate balancing act of global temperature and climate. In the same way, the transistor of Bell labs has destroyed meaning; digital society in the mold of its forebears has wrecked the very process by which we build shared ideas over the seething leviathan of humanity.
To quote Schopenhauer:

“No difference of rank, position, or birth, is so great as the gulf that separates the countless millions who use their head only in the service of their belly, in other words, look upon it as an instrument of the will, and those very few and rare persons who have the courage to say: No! my head is too good for that; it shall be active only in its own service; it shall try to comprehend the wondrous and varied spectacle of this world and then reproduce it in some form, whether as art or as literature, that may answer to my character as an individual. “

Trump's coup was predictable, Putin's war was predictable, Uncle Clarence's vow to end liberal society was predictable. A strange mood, an effervescent modern immunity, stops professional media personalities from framing the police state as the boot stamping on a human face forever. In the US, you live in a dictatorship without a figurehead. Capital has won, even its keepers have fallen under this spell of a primordial marketer's art-deco dreams. It has come unmoored from the reality which holds our society, and the hyperreality which we’ve built on top. Capital has succeeded beyond the wildest dreams of its keepers, JP Morgan and the Panic of 1907 only endeavored to keep their heads. The guillotines were melted down, and we beat our social contract into battleships, planes, and tanks and then fell asleep to dream of endless bloodshed.
JP Morgan and the bankers saved his rival forging a behemoth of early 20th century corporate history. At its peak in 1943, US Steel employed 340,000 people and produced 35 million tons of steel. Creating the arms, armor, ships, planes and bombs which fought the largest conflicts in human history, so far. However, this great Moloch-furnace to human death could not be sustained, they rusted in the uneasy peace of the late 20th century. Falling off the S&P index in the 2000’s and leaving behind only the failure of managerialism, decaying wages, and the rust belt. Those dreams of blood became dreams of capital, but blood still seeps under the door. Thy orisons forgotten.
The myth of progress continues. Whig historiography, the idea that history moves toward positive progressive outcomes, is like a sheet covering the human remains at a particularly bad motor vehicle collision. We can fret about the traffic and drive by a few tarps, unperturbed only for a roll of the cosmic dice that was not our meat spread thinly across the pavement. We do not consider how a temple of steel, war and death could falter. But falter they do, consider GE, Boeing, IBM, and eventually Tesla.
Joe Biden, for all his faults and sins, is the most conservative president since the first George Bush and in a darker interpretation since Ike. He co-authored the modern police state with notorious racist Strom Thurmond. He's sat on the Senate's ghoulish committee of intelligence bootlickers since before I was born. He is a Catholic, sharing that faith with 5 Justices of the Supreme Court. Biden has made disparaging comments about abortion, socialized medicine... But somehow, nearly half of the voting public believes this milquetoast neoliberal dog-and-pony show to be 'too left wing.' The US GOP has lost their grasp on reality, and to add insult to injury, some tech bro has thrown a rock through their Overton window and stolen their TV.
History has, in the short few years between the collapse of the Soviet Union and species death, inverted the Whig's ideals. Climate change could have been averted by serious lawmakers, embracing bleeding-edge technologies of the 1890's, 1950's and 1970's. Electrified transit, the fission reactor and photovoltaics could have kept the industrialists on top of the pile and the progressive hyperreality functioning. Coal has crept into the soul of industry, soot is the breath. The machine does not just need money, iron, and fire - it also needs blood. Increasing technological progress is driving humanity backward.
The witch-kings of capital have bloody dreams of conquest in their perfect sleep. Human beings must be ground down in the mill as well as steel. Even with the promise of perfection, mechanical workers could not keep the machine from needing blood, even if that blood is now in the form of mental burnout from the unrealistic necessity of a thousand times normal human productivity.
This dilution and dismemberment of meaning is added to by the attacks of SARS-CoV2 on the nervous system. Long 'Rona and the deaths of 3 to 10 million worker's productive lives have allowed Generation Z a brief gasp of fresh capital. Which was cruelly denied to the Millennials. The collapse of the economy, and true monetary ruination forestalled only by the infirmity of the management class. Managers who have retired at rates far beyond those in 'essential' positions.
Contagious mental illness… Not just a philosophical rot, but a disease which weakens its host’s faculties. Those mental abilities are our best defense against the virus. But just like your T-cells, they have been eroded by SARS. We have glimpsed the terror of the randomness, the pattern screamer. The void itself hates life, and random mutations will one day reach a fitness to use industrial societies, as a mold infects an ant hill. Now that virus has become so sharpened in the evolutionary arms race, the miracle cures of the pharmaceutical industry will falter. AIDS did not mutate fast enough to evade the antivirals in the same way. The monoclonal antibodies embraced by the anti-science-save-for-myself crowd, those treatments are now ineffective. Antibody escape is here. With BA.4.6 we are now seeing the end game. How much more transmissible can the virus become, and does it matter if the whole population are infected?
The breakdown, the anger, the burnout, the violence are being driven not only by economic, social and epistemological factors but also epidemiological issues. The water has not started to boil, but the quiet shrieking of superheated water circulating from the heating coil has started. The warning signs are blaring. We can look to China as a perfect control for this grand, unplanned epidemiological study. The draconian measures taken to control the outbreak, could replace the US as a superpower. As the ravages of war spared the US, the virus is taking a special place in God’s own country. A neuro-social-epidemiological study conducted on the whole world population. A disaster which we will grapple with until the end of our days. It is SARS-CoV-2, an actual disease of the mind. We tend to focus on the human costs of the virus, the outright deaths. It is verboten to discuss the lingering effects of an uncontained neurological illness. The virus’ ancestors infected neural tissues, as does SARS-CoV-2. Long-term psychiatric morbidity in SARS survivors is nearly 60%. Three in five people. They knew in 2009:

“The outbreak of SARS can be regarded as a mental health catastrophe. PTSD was the most prevalent long-term psychiatric condition, followed by depressive disorders.”

Everyone was exposed, and even if we take the 93 million total peddled by the CDC the official count represents 30 percent of the population. But if we take the Household Pulse survey data from the much older Census Bureau, about 45% of the population is depressed. Table 2a and 2b from Health subset, suggests that 48% of people have “Frequency of feeling down, depressed, or hopeless” for at least “several days.” These reports are interpolated to the whole population, but the picture is clearly dire. Nothing like only 13% of children not getting enough to eat some days, in the richest country in the world. Half of respondents are depressed. The epidemic of mental illness is just beginning.
The hubris and stupidity of the capitalist order on disease will be an interesting study, if anyone is in any shape to make those analyses in 50 years. It will not be much different than the hubris on the environment, social contract, or the finite nature of the world - but the variety gives it some unique flavor. One that tastes of phlegm, antivirals, and failed public health programs.
This failure can be expanded, this is the failure of sentience. We have reached the point at which, even those specialists with a lifetime of study, cannot make good choices. Each line of code, each law, each executive proclamation, sends unintended ripples across the noosphere. The overlapping complexity of good governance has grown into a burden which cannot be shouldered, even by the Einsteins of our age. There are no renaissance men, no scientist-barons, no alchemist-courtiers left to become the new John Rambo of the mountains of data. The mental work is too great, and our AI progeny has not had time to mature.
The failure of rationality, the failure of the Will has come to us in full force.
We can feel the truth. The rust grows on the soul of humanity. Louts, idiots, and psychos have come to dominate our society. The gnawing death eats outward, first corrupting the simple pleasures, then the higher mental faculties, followed by the nervous system and then finally the lungs. The death drive has won, your health, your mind, have a one third chance at degradation for each wave of plague you endure.
To quote Hume:

“This deficiency in our ideas is not, indeed, perceived in common life, nor are we sensible, that in the most usual conjunctions of cause and effect we are as ignorant of the ultimate principle, which binds them together, as in the most unusual and extraordinary. But this proceeds merely from an illusion of the imagination; and the question is, how far we ought to yield to these illusions. This question is very difficult, and reduces us to a very dangerous dilemma, whichever way we answer it. For if we assent to every trivial suggestion of the fancy; beside that these suggestions are often contrary to each other; they lead us into such errors, absurdities, and obscurities, that we must at last become asham'd of our credulity. Nothing is more dangerous to reason than the flights of the imagination, and nothing has been the occasion of more mistakes among philosophers. Men of bright fancies may in this respect be compar'd to those angels, whom the scripture represents as covering their eyes with their wings.”

You live within the flights of imagination of some 1980's financier coked out of his skull. Decry China's social credit system all you want, the USA built a worse one with credit scores in 1989. For our technological fever dreams of a civilization, we still live in a reality which needs a bed, food and comfort. What beats at the heart of every machine is naught but the distilled essence of ten thousand years of technological development. Each server is a million, million spears thrust through an innocent heart. It starts innocently enough, the discovery of fire, metallurgy, writing but has rapidly devolved into building systems to maximize human suffering for profit.
Behold, Truth. Actual reality stares us in the face everyday, but we hide behind our increasing complexities, compounded ego, antidepressants, and logarithmic growth. The line cannot go up forever. Progress does not come without waste. Science cannot move forward without heaps of dead monkeys, but governance requires mass graves. Any wildlife biologist can tell you what happens when rabbits see rapid population growth. Any climate scientist can show you that the last 500-odd months have been the hottest ever. Any (competent) historian can show you similar up and downward trends in Rome, China, India, and Mesoamerican empires. Any virologist can show you data from the previous plague to make one's blood run cold.
Infinite knowledge, unlimited power. We have become Gods, in ways that even a 19th century philosopher would struggle to comprehend. The Will has become deranged, disorganized. Even our dictators, populists, and modern-day bloodletters of all kinds, have become so weakened. They flail ineffectually at the totality of human condition. We have created a new complexity, far surpassing all attempts of entropy. Static is as incompressible as information packed QR codes or edited six second videos. Our multifarious thoughts -- every sight, sound, feeling -- are now documented in endless electronic storage. But for all the ennui of the human condition which now stands recorded in digital ephemera, we have not advanced our collective soul.
The Will has weakened. Between the wars our great-grandparents dreamed of dams, train tracks, skyscrapers, electricity, gas, and televisions. They built them: only one river flowed to the ocean undammed on the West Coast. We grew wheat on rocky plateaus, tomatoes in deserts, and almonds in salt flats. The US west is a desert civilization, beating the scale of the Indus River Valley Civilization, or Anasazi by ten-thousand fold. But that water is drying up, just as the bustling cliff dwellings, Kivas, adobe fortresses were abandoned, so too will Phoenix be scoured by the desert winds.
Like our rivers, our Will has dried up. The dreams of Buckminster Fuller, Frank Lloyd Wright, and Le Corbusier of a shining city of well-planned dwellings, beautiful ergonomic furniture, open parks, and glittering towers of intellectual activity are dead. Replaced with the moldering ruins of late 1970’s apartment complexes, endless miles of 1980’s strip malls, stroads whose original intent was lost in the 1990’s orgy of greed and duplicity; we sit in an anti-urbanism, a people-last philosophy of maximized shareholder value.
Beauty is simplicity. Truth is beauty and understanding is a hurled knife. Me, a low-brow idiot, trapped by massive forces beyond human reason, possesses functionally infinite knowledge. Every second more videos are uploaded than you can watch in a lifetime, every minute a ceaseless drum of email notifications pound the entire globe, every day priceless scientific knowledge is printed and burned for warmth (and grant funding).
Know this: it all ends.
We have coddled the viper. Beating in the hearts of humanity is our death. The urge to drive over a cliff, the urge to suck on the sweet blued steel, the urge to yell fire, the urge to amass troops, the urge to blanket the earth in nuclear holocaust... How many people have actually died of old age, throughout all of human history? A lucky few.
We stand on that precipice, but our compatriots have already jumped. Venus by Tuesday. Global financial collapse. Ecological failure. Complete nihility for just a few dollars more. Save two pennies for the reaper, so you might pay the final toll across the river Styx. We have breached the third seal, and the fourth is waiting in the wings.
The desert fathers knew human nature as well as we do. John of Patmos knew the debauchery of our billionaires from the lives and vices of the propraetors, the Roman governors and aristocrats. He was boiled in oil for it, and perhaps our fate rhymes.
Know this rot is not just the personal debauchery of the orgy, or the black mass. This is not the Massacre of Innocents, the Feast of Chestnuts, or the Hellfire Club. Those are only abominable to the finely tuned morals of a dead sky-father. WE have much better abominations to practice, the kind which can only be developed through two thousand years of finely tuned perversion. I'm not talking about adrenochrome or some other thrice-damned wacko talk...
Our world has become a cruel inversion of those ancient empires. Where their crimes were those of a lack, ours come from a false and fleeting abundance. Childhood poverty is now in the majority. We (in the US) have the largest prison population, the richest gangs, the lowest tax rates on those most able to pay. Soaring overdose deaths. Massive pollution on a global scale. The complete failure to contain two deadly pathogens. Decayed human rights. Mass shootings. Criminalized women's healthcare. Resurgent fascism, stochastic terror amid the decayed decadence of a burning NeoBabylon. “[God] has condemned the great prostitute who corrupted the earth by her adulteries. He has avenged on her the blood of his servants … Hallelujah! The smoke from her goes up for ever and ever.”
What base cruelty can be so adamant about creating suffering? This is not suffering from the lack, the cruelty of nature, that of famine. Although famine is coming. This is not the natural background of cruelty which has arisen from the process of carbon based life attempting to survive in the face of the inexorable universe and the Second Law of Thermodynamics. This is not the lion eating the gazelle, facing off on their limited energy budgets on a grassy savanna.
Collapse is the shriek of two nitromethane-fueled dragsters, charging headlong into the void. This is the brief, hideous cry of Tory-IIc, a nuclear fire to put all engines of the world to shame. We’re going to burn white hot and consume the entirety of the world’s easily harvested resources. The thin skin of the earth only holds so many riches, oil, timber, tungsten, iridium. They have been piled up toward the sky, in a sacrificial pyre.
The believers, they are called to: 'Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn. Live in harmony with one another. Do not be proud, but be willing to associate with people of low position. Do not be conceited.' Surely, an omnipotent God will welcome these true fiends. These are the Antichrists, true progenitors of apocalypse. As a non-believer, or even a Nihilist, one must put on a certain sardonic smile that the Good Book so aptly knew its adherents.
We are rich, and fat like sacrificial lambs. The dark priesthood of American exceptionalism, or perhaps Chinese nationalism, stands ready with the bloodletting knife. This is an active suffering of systems built to create dysfunction. Complexity has bred pain. Every bill, every ad, every car. Each one is designed to create the most unpleasant experiences. That suffering drives one to purchase, where scarcity has failed, artificial needs have been created. The nursemaid of suffering was the advertiser, and the midwife is consumer culture. Together, they have built such unpleasant experiences that we now cling to sanity. Society possessing many of the qualities of a conquered nation put to pillage by a hungry, unpaid mercenary army. But in a flash of modern brilliance, we are at once the pillager and the pillaged.
The pounding of the bar's sound system, its poor seating, cheap drinks. These conditions form a self reinforcing system of drunkenness and unpleasantness. One cannot communicate because of the ear splitting noise, so one must continue to drink. One cannot sit comfortably, so we crowd the bar to spend money and eviscerate those higher cognitive functions brought out to speak of great ideas. One has become drunk, making the suffering tolerable; the company and comfort forgotten. Spend money to suffer, and in alleviating your suffering achieve that false death of one enraptured in beautiful agony. Perhaps your suffering and rapture will attract some stranger to share your pain and purpose? Likely not… Just as our bar patron, we will be cast out into an empty, darkened world.
This contagious mental illness is the FNORD, invisible to the conscious mind.

"Your heart will remain calm. Your adrenaline gland will remain calm. Calm, all-over calm. You will not panic. You will look at the fnord and see it. You will not evade it or black it out. You will stay calm and face it."

We can feel this fnord, it is the manifestation of the death drive, too long denied by modernity. It is the face peeled off of the industrial society. It is the acceptance of the surreality of our second-order simulation. We no longer merely ape the pleasures of a decayed Victorian sensibility. We have created new meta-pleasures divorced twice to the original social pleasures. Image as representation, as reality. Just as the post-war United States basked in the false glow of an abundance which will likely be forever unequaled. We now bask in the heat lamp of the warmed over dreams of that earlier age. Home ownership, education, health all shared social undertakings which cannot be merely quantified by a single individual. The asbestos shoveler who was resistant to mesothelioma, or the psychopath who runs the company are merely different manifestations of the same failure of social thinking.
This is the paradoxical negative freedom of our late capitalist system. The individual is bound only by the unbreakable bars of physics, the reality of capital, and the bondage of the mind to a normative reality. To paraphrase John Gray’s commentary of Isaiah Berlin: “Negative freedom is the absence of obstruction to pursuing the discordant end of human beings, positive freedom applies to a type of human being that does not exist.” Positive freedom is the prescriptive, essentially religious, ideal life in which all humans would live a single, ideal life by God’s own hand. Negative freedom is that ability to make choices, which may be at odds with the greater number of freedoms. Negative freedom is that which has propelled our society, it is the endless selections of cereal, it is the freedom to publish the Daily Stormer (that neonazi rag), it is the freedom to purchase a Dodge Ram and drive drunk. “The freedom to engage in racist expression cannot be protected in the same context as freedom from racist abuse: the two are logically incompatible.”
Do not mistake my argument, it is not advocating for dictatorship, police, or hierarchy. Despite the best efforts of nation-states, mega-corps, banking clans, landed nobility, consulting firms, maoist revolutionaries, chaebols, think tanks, universities, armies and a thousand, million middle managers the system has failed. Complexity did not make humanity more fit to survive. Fire was a mistake, compounded by a million generations of suffering. Interlocking bureaucracies did nothing to prevent their own destruction, despite warnings dating back nearly 150 years.
Surely, even if global carbon emissions, social dysregulation, or plague could not reasonably be controlled, the great, crushing weight of all of social hierarchies would draw one toward building systems which could survive?
Apparently not… For all the wealth and brains, apparently only the scientific researchers could possibly envision a better world, one which steers the fragile boat of civilization away from the rocky shoals of nihility. All the world’s petty dictators' ill intent are only matched by their impotence. Each tiny dictator, each landlord, each capitalist had the opportunity to make some small change, but is instead still greedily scrabbling for the last scrap of meat off the table. They now fight over the bones of the world. We have not yet seen the Jackals who will crack the marrow from those bones, but a tiny Pol Pot grows in the soul of everyone.
A Napoleon, a Hirohito, a Kim Il Sung, a Leopold the Second, a Nixon - they quietly gestate in the spirits of our unhappy world. One could not say that your boss would not have you put to death for any tiny infraction, only that they do not have the power to do so yet. Our society has become one of fractionalized dictatorship, every tiny interaction wearing on the social contract. Those selfless workers - nurses, teachers, servers - have failed to keep the world working. They lack the Will, the political ability.
The kindness of the individual has been wrung dry, a better world comes not from a strong national leader, but the aggregate actions of those caring for our sick, dumb, hungry masses. They would soothe the infirmities of the individual, and create a better world. But no, any ideas of managerialism, utopianism, utilitarianism are rapidly snatched away by those who have still bought the lie. If they just stamp on a thousand faces, perhaps their jackboots could be revered for a thousand years. “Here are the boots which your great-great grandfather personally kicked 589 people’s dreams to death with, it took him his whole career.” They’ll get a medal, and a letter from the CEO, and a supermodel wife, and a pile of gold… In the next life. Just as their Christian forebears would, after putting a protestant city to the torch.
This modern dictatorship is one which places an undue burden on the social bonds. Bonds which once had clear guardrails, some form of social reciprocity. This reciprocity may not have been particularly pleasant, but it kept the mass of humanity struggling forward. Each landlord, each cop, each loan officer - they are required to create human suffering. It is not of their own volition, but some may grow to enjoy the dark, sadistic pleasures of the ruination of human life. It is likely better that the worst offenses are committed uncaringly and following the letter-of-the-law. A luxury house is much more luxurious when there is a lack of housing. A wagyu steak is much more savory when the world is on the brink of starvation. A college degree is much more valuable when the world’s information has been locked in ancient buildings, overgrown with ivy. The scarcity is artificial, and so is the value.
This suffering is not as apparent in the broader world, in the slums and rural fields. They have not seen the horror of manufacturing consent or the constant, omnipresent propaganda world in which the urban individual is submersed. Truly the Hyperreality is rooted and flowering, it is not only the cloying perfection of Disneyland or the carefully manicured store displays on 5th avenue. Those are the test pads of an earlier age. Hyperreality has subsumed our whole social interactions, we are no longer atomized individuals but actors in a great Twitch stream of consumption and quiet pain.
Which is not to say that the rural individual lives in reality; in their grief, their despair, and their unanswered want have clung to a cheap imitation of the American Dream. To quote a great philosopher: “It's called the American Dream because you’d have to be asleep to believe it.” Central to this vision is a predatory version of Chrisitanity, worse in many ways than those structures of the Church called the Pornocracy or late Byzantine civic religion. It is the bastard child of the 3rd Great Awakening and American Civil Religion. Raised in an abusive post-war home borne of the twin Americanisms of televangelism and consumerism, it is a dark inversion of the city-on-a-hill which underlies the urban hyperreality. A field-in-a-valley, the dream of a dark serfdom ruled by a modern Mad Max dystopia of F150s, flag print clothing, amphetamines, fentanyl, guns, and freedom.
Freedom! Freedom to what? Freedom to die, die as an individual. Ungoverned, ignorant, solitary. They cling to their bibles and guns. As if a hurricane, drought, flood, famine, or heat dome can be shot. As if a bank can be converted to respectable behavior. As if their pitiable existence has meaning, that somehow Sleepy Joe Biden has conspired personally against every one of them. Joe has prevented them from re-roofing the double wide after the winds, Joe has increased the cost of goods and depressed wages. Clearly, the answer is a new Jesus Christ, orange and litigious. An east coast elite; the notorious con-man, who literally owns a golden toilet; an individual raised in the lap of luxury, who fought his own Vietnam against venereal disease and coke.
Clearly a Man made in God’s rotting corpse’s image. ‘Ecce homo,’ they say as the libs rage against his horrific visage. Somehow, his words contain fractal untruths. Each statement, having layers of un-meaning like inverse Shakespeare. Falsity upon fatality. Lies upon untruths upon marketing pitches. Governance through the filter of reality TV production. Some evil brownian motion has sharpened this superior man’s wit to a razor edge, the sudafed, diet cokes, and call girls have created a true monster of base instinct to rival any dozen virtuous thinkers. An idiot Einstein of crawling perversions, bad manners, and 1980s business power plays. He does not do it consciously, indeed one could question the very sentience of this blond beast.
The digital rot has allowed a memetic predator to infest the dopaminergic pathways of our collective frontal lobes. Truth, with a capital T, has been slaughtered, just as an earlier generation killed God. We still hear these gravediggers of God's death, clawing fresh dirt from the holy funeral barrow. But those who have come to bury Truth have a much harder time. For all of the Rät's power, your own skull casing is still impenetrable to even the wealthiest unicorn breeder.
Global temperature cannot be hidden. The birds, flowers and trees know it to be spring however many weeks early. The collapse of abundance, the monetary supply, the rates of inflation, shrinking wages, and complex interrelationships of poorly maintained infrastructure are not something explained by anything short of self-evident work. Elon's dead monkeys were no more plugged into the Metaverse than our elected representatives, bosses, and landlords are plugged into the ground state of reality.
Through technological creation, we have crept over the ledge. The loss of collective meaning is a profound issue - perhaps greater than the shifts we’ve seen from the global wars of the 20th century superpowers, the death of the aristocracy of Europe in the 19th century, the enlightenment of the 18th century and the renaissance of the 16th century. Finally, we have reached the end of our wits. The brain, functioning at its highest reaches, cannot make good choices. Even conceptualizing this shift is difficult; it is not staring into the abyss, or feeling the abyss’s cold gaze returning upon the soul.
The process of producing Truth through falsification has reached its apex. Science has won, but at the cost of life itself. What is our industrial society but an even bigger pile of dead monkeys? For the progress of the last 100 years, from electromechanical computers to global digital networks, we can only prophesy our early deaths - not avert them.
Growth cannot be infinite, the Earth is bounded. Resources, like the universe, are finite. Truth, the real stuff, is not bound by capital. Truth cannot be buried, reasoned with, corrupted by venial pleasures, or blackmailed with moral sins. It cannot be killed by the knife of a thousand, thousand marketers; no matter how hard they attempt to stab at the ocean. The tide comes and goes as it pleases. Those witch-kings of capital can make any prophecy from their desert temples of excess, but they cannot bend Truth the same way a few million quid can bend the built environment.
Truth, the kind with a capital T, is like the dead God of the Christian religion. Omnipresent but absent. To guide the perplexed, Maimonides opined that we could never say that God's hand was present but only that the hand was not present. Negative omnipotence. The Void as monad, the absolute. One should remember not to stare.
Truth has become the void, inhabiting only the edges, the negatives. One can see it in the trash littering a street, the preventable deaths, the choking philosophical atmosphere of modernity, the fact that all information sits only a digital hair's breadth from one's fingers.
Infinite knowledge is not a blessing, but a curse. Even those of an academic persuasion chafe at the omnipresence of knowledge, a correct factoid is only an inconvenience. The totality of our knowledge cannot be distilled, as like Truth, it only inhabits the void. We can only guess at the shape of correctness by where we have pinned down falsity through the reproduction of scientific papers.
This Shape of infinite knowledge is a maddening eleven-dimensional specter. It is a Truth which darkens the eyes, clouds the heart, hides behind the spectacles of modernity, lurks in the white lines on the mirror. Even those uninterested in building a better world can feel it creeping in the quiet moments between work, that new sushi place, the gym, and bed. This societal disquiet is not loud, but it is deafening. Every hipster bar, every inauthentic experience, the instagram story roll, they all bleed a sinister perfection which holds the vast majority in its hyper-real spell.
Scientific truth is a careful measurement of wetbulb temperatures, as compared to homeostatic mechanisms of thermoregulation. Bloody Truth, is the entirely preventable deaths of a thousand-thousand children across the global south this summer. Bloody Truth is the implosion of ten trillion dollars of imagined value. Bloody Truth is the last, terminal gasps of the unvaxxed as the vent tube gets pulled. Truth is the storm surge over-topping the sea walls. Bloody Truth is the coathanger, a woman dying of sepsis in a well-stocked clinic in the richest country in the world. Truth is a knife, a missile, a virus.
Truth is the beauty and simplicity of death. Know Truth: it all ends.
But do not despair, my friends. We are called to love our fate. We are blessed to be the Atlantians, the Progenitors. Our society is that which sinks beneath the waves. Our refugees may build an interstellar empire, or die alone in a cave ten decades from now.

My formula for greatness in a human being is amor fati: that one wants nothing to be different, not forward, not backward, not in all eternity. Not merely bear what is necessary, still less conceal it—all idealism is mendacity in the face of what is necessary—but love it.

Bear this knowledge faithfully, do not revel in the death of our world, but with sadness in your heart bear the heights of human civilization into the gathering dark age. Our impotent angst has meaning in its placement, much worse fates await the timeline. We all have plans on how to avert the collapse, be it the idealism of the protestors in the streets or the cynicism of the banker class’s New Zealand bunkers. Know that it will not ultimately matter, the world has far too much momentum. Know the bloody Truth, our trajectory is set. The ticket is punched. The void has not won, it was always there.
There is hope, remember Neitzsche’s catechism of the lost, the affirmation of life:

If we affirm one single moment, we thus affirm not only ourselves but all existence. For nothing is self-sufficient, neither in us ourselves nor in things; and if our soul has trembled with happiness and sounded like a harp string just once, all eternity was needed to produce this one event—and in this single moment of affirmation all eternity was called good, redeemed, justified, and affirmed.

I always thought food had something to do with Fenn's treasure.
The man talks about it all the time -- from brown gravy to chili cook offs to bacon and eggs, not to mention condiments, the man's got it bad. Now i never did figure how food stuffs could apply to a treasure spot, but then i got to thinking, we all know that the best food is FRIED food -- and, well, fried food is the perfect intersection of ... GOLDEN-BROWN (see Malliard reaction for more on this) --
So then if we wed FRIED with a TITLE to Fenn's Gold, as the man hocked art for a little bit more than just a living, I think we then have to search for that connect. How can a man get RICH off FRIED?
Easy ... FRIED-RICH, no, not Gaspar ... CASPAR (DAVID) --
And as this man's work is highly valued, and also he painted a king's portion of winter landscapes ...
WORTH + THE COLD ... strongly applies.
If you look close at FRIEDRICH's art, a lot of resembles stuff Fenn put out there.
Maybe there's even a HEINRICH/FRIEDRICH play Fenn was tinking with, with Brown being the common link.
Friedrich has a few quotes out there that remind me of a quality Fenn said he liked in Salinger -- Friedrich didn't give much of two shits in what direction public opinion of him leaned. I believe he even mentions butterflies and maggots in relation to such.
Anyway, I still don't know how to align this idea with a spot in Whyoming, but maybe there's some painting that looks a lot like one of his so that when you get there you'll know it immediately, and as many of the guy's paintings feature crosses, my other idea was that in the painting there'll be a cross where, in the natural landscape, the treasured X is ... in spirit.
And just as a cool pin-on, Taschen is releasing a FRIEDRICH art book this month. Looks pretty cool. Love their stuff -- Winter Landscape with Church is one of my favorites ...
https://www.taschen.com/pages/en/catalogue/art/all/49218/facts.friedrich.htm#group-3
​
****** Disclaimer -- Oh, and before you go taking my interpretations too seriously, you should know this isn't the first FOOD solve I've had for Fenn's riddle. I'm a big Kamado cooker guy and for a few years I was sure all the chili crock pots were symbolic of an egg -- just to clarifty ...
YES, I thought Fenn had stached his treasure in a giant egg -- either a big green or a Red Joe, I wasn't sure which, but I skowered the Rockies searching for my vision -- a giant enamel coated egg sitting out in the middle of some pine forest --
My idea was that the whole thing was seen by Fenn as something a kid could solve -- and a kid would know he was on a GIANT EGG HUNT.
I also had the egg thing connected up to the Orphic Egg, which I was pretty sure was going to be sitting (maybe buried) in some crop circle, medicine wheel, or reproduction Fenn had fashioned of the Aztec Sun stone -- I know Aztec is tech Mex and Fenn was more of a professed RedMan when it came to spiritual stuff, but ther's a lot of overlap tween the Toltec Wisdom (4 Agreements) and the wisdom in some of the Anasazi and other native circles --
I had the radial coming off the blaze as one of the Four (lots of fours in the Chase) sacred directions, the one in which man could trace the path of his spirit animal and go on a vision quest / spiritual hunt for his more primative self -- this is a good overview -- https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1426916280/ref=ppx_od_dt_b_asin_title_s00?ie=UTF8&psc=1
If there is a Malliard reaction, this explains why the duck becomes a key. I even considered that there may be a beef brisket frozen in the snow, and in side the smoke ring, (not overcooked) Fenn had made a slit, so that when you got to the treasure spot, you found a giant egg acting as a freezer, inside that porcelain freezer, a beautiful frozen brisket meal cooked by Fenn especially for the finder, and inside that brisket meal, the Treasure Chest -- a real Last Supper of sorts the world would be sure never to forget.
Grace makes some of the best Browning sauce I use on my J-makin' oxtail recipe, but now Grace is about to stop production which is sad because they're my favorite. Oh well, nothing lasts forever I guess.
Yes, I know the vent on a big green egg is cast iron and would rust, but I even thought if buried this rusty top port would be the brown spot in the center of the medicine wheel, a brown rusty hub, and serve as "me in the middle" -- I even thought Fenn's ash would have been snuck in the bottom of the egg, which would be his urn, with the brisket meal just above it -- Eucharist sort of thing. I'm sure if he did something like this he would follow protocol and wrap the brisket in tin foil so as to not mix his tiny bone fragments with the food, as he seems like a thoughtful and sanitary man and plus he did work in a kitchen at Totem for a while, (Frosty hint there too), even if that was eons and eons ago.
​
* oh and also i was thinking if the treasure is "near" the top of a mountain and you have to s-meld the sunshine, then maybe this painting shows the cross which is at the 'top' of the mountain, but then if you s-meld the sunshine, you see that there are three interesting segments of sunshine like the distinct rays of flashlight(s) (which fenn said to bring with you) so that you have to choose the light-path in the middle (another me in the middle) and also the middle path being the path of modertain, non-attachment, enlightenment -- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Caspar_David_Friedrich#/media/File:Caspar_David_Friedrich_-_Das_Kreuz_im_Gebirge.jpg
You can see that there are give nice sized trees in this painting (one of the trees being a giant cross much like the one of jesus) and then the literal searcher digs AT the cross of Jesus and comes up with eggshells, goes away home hungry -- some thirsty soul who doesn't get it -- all the other trees are crosses too -- only Fenn didn't fancy himself Jesus, no, he was no saint, he was one of the happy sinners who hung next to Jesus -- most of what the holy rollers say about the thieves next to Jesus is pure malarkey anway -- so then the middle sunbeam comes down on a big pretty tree, and that tree is Fenn's cross -- the cross of the thief -- who steals his way into heaven, because black and white thinking is for the birds. Condors too. Sort of interesting how the middle sunbeam hits down on the tallest of all the trees (tallest next to the cross, that is) -- that one is reserved for his highest, but in his presence, second place ribbon really ain't so bad at all. There's a giant cross at Las Leches in Saint Augustine which is how come I think Fenn got the idea for a big tall cross from that other hunt he studied up on, only he made his more metaforical in a painting to make it harder which is fair cause the moneys a far better pot.
* I'll add here that if you found yourself thinking after looking at that painting there were just three sunbeams, that's because I told you there were three, and we tend to find what we are told to look for. Look again, this time searching out towards the edges and you will see there are really five. Isn't it odd how we see what we are looking for. I've always thought it was, but maybe that's only because somebody told me that's the way it was long ago and i forgot.

The "X-Files" is typically divided into serialized mythology episodes and stand-alone Monster of the Week (MOTW) episodes. The two groups are believed to be largely disconnected from each other. This post argues that the opposite is true. Chris Carter constructs each season of the show around a set of themes, with that season's MOTW and mythology episodes all intimately thematically linked.
SEASON 2
Consider season two. This season opens with Mulder listening to a surveillance tape. On the tape, two men discuss a woman who dances to the Offspring song “Come out and Play”. The song's opening lines are “you gotta keep 'em separated” and “if their colors don't mix, they're going to bash each other up.”
As we shall see, this alludes to Mulder's separation from Scully (the Syndicate have her assigned elsewhere), the season's preoccupation with Scully's abduction, her belief that “mixing with Mulder” leads to her being “bashed up”, and her desire for “separation” from a job that is endangering her life.
And so four episodes into the season, Scully is abducted. The first MOTW after she returns is “Firewalker”, whose monster functions as a metaphor for Scully's plight throughout the season. What's this episode about? A man goes mad in a cave when obsessively tracking “aliens”, killing his young female sidekick – a protege who follows him blindly wherever he goes – in the process. Will this fate befall Scully as well? Will Mulder's quest similarly endanger her life? No, the episode seems to argue, she's too headstrong and independent; Scully follows her own path, is proven right about the episode's monster, and refuses to blindly follow or be shackled to Mulder, symbolically thwarting a pair of handcuffs.
But the notion that Scully is endangered because she's handcuffed to Mulder – that as a woman she's jeopardized by her partner – begins to weigh heavy on her mind, which subsequent MOTWs begin to reflect. And so in "Humbug" we see a guy whose partner – a twin that is literally grafted onto his stomach – begins to endanger both parties. Same story in "Soft Light", where a guy's shadow, which he of course carries everywhere with him, endangers himself and others. Same story in “Calusari”, where the inability to separate linked twins is shown to lead to death and suffering. How does all this suffering stop? A ritual which SPLITS both partners apart.
The suggestion repeatedly throughout the season is that Scully, after her abduction, is increasingly wrestling with the fact that her relationship with Mulder is endangering her physically and psychologically. Her twin, her partner, her shadow, has become a threat.
No surprise then that "Dod Kalm" sees Mulder and Scully almost dying when they're squeezed together on a ship. Scully theorizes that she's dying because the "ship is being pulled like a magnet to a meteor" and that "the two are acting as positive and negative terminals with the ocean itself being a kind of giant battery which destroys everything in its field". This, of course, echoes Polarity Magnetics in “Soft Light”. In both cases, we see the idea of an inexorable pull toward a destructive partner, and the feeling at the back of Scully's mind, following her abduction, that she should say goodbye to Mulder and the X-files.
The rest of the season is thus preoccupied with extreme violence toward women. "Aubrey", "Excelcis Dei" and "Irresistible" deal with the rape of women (necrophilia couldn't be shown, so "Irresistible" toned things down with a "hair fetish"). “Fearful Symmetry” sees countless female animals raped and impregnated against their will. "Duane Barry", "Ascension" and "One Breath" deal with the literal violation/rape of Scully. And “3”, “Firewalker” and Soft Light” all feature a female character who dies as a result of partnering with a man obsessed with chasing the paranormal. These are not minor details; Scully is likened to "Soft Light's" detective Kelly Ryan, whom Scully trained at the FBI Academy. And Scully is literally handcuffed to the young female sidekick of an obsessive scientist in "Firewalker". Meanwhile, Kristen is abused by True Believers in "3". In each MOTW case, Carter draws allusions between these women and Scully.
This theme is so prevalent, that “Die Hand Die Verletzt” dedicates a long scene to a young woman's recounting of a rape: "They took me!” the victim, whose ordeal echoes Scully's abduction, cries. “They called me a breeder! They got me pregnant! They killed our babies!”
“Die Hand Die Verletzt” then famously ends with a "good bye, it's been nice working with you", as does “Blood”, with its final text message reading “Bye Bye” (an in-joke by the writers; this was to be their final season).
As if punishment for not similarly saying farewell to Mulder and the FBI, Scully almost gets her head chopped off in "Our Town", strangled in "Fresh Bones", and in "F. Emasculata" gets locked in a room with a parasite that attaches itself to your face like a bad partner (the climax involves splitting away from an erupting boil). And when Scully gets pulverized in "End Game", it's significant that it is BY HER OWN PARTNER– a shapeshifter disguised as Mulder beats her to a pulp. Their relationship gets so bad that she will shoot Mulder in the season's final episode, an episode in which she nearly gets assassinated herself, and in which a drugged Mulder spends the whole episode hostile toward her.
Scully's often in danger, of course, but it's really SUSTAINED, DIRECT and PERSONAL in season 2 (she's abducted in "Irresistable", "Duane Barry", "Colony", "End Game" and "Our Town") , and this violence is always symbolically linked to her partnetwin/shadow/soulmate. So while the MOTWs in this season aren't “literally about Scully”, they're all symbolically about how the abduction psychologically affected her, how she's wrestling with the toxic relationship she's found herself in, how she's beginning to question leaving Mulder, and how she struggles to assert some semblance of power and control over a life that is being pulled out of her own hands.
Significantly, season 2 features an episode called “Fearful Symmetry”, a term derived from a William Blake poem, and which refers to something that is both “frightening” and “beautiful”, “friend” and “foe”. The episode's title refers to the duality of its aliens (good ecologists/evil abductors), but it can also be stretched to include Mulder himself. For Scully, her partner is now revealed to be both friend and threat. Epitomizing her plight in this episode is a gorilla called Sophie. “We're looking for a partner for Sophie,” one character in the episode says, but the animal was abducted and raped just like Scully was, and so is now understandably distrustful of all partners. “Man, woman, hurt,” it says, when it encounters Mulder.
And the season itself is filled with “symmetries”. While the MOTWs after Scully's abduction focus on those "recoiling from a partnership”, those before the abduction do the opposite. In “The Host”, the first MOTW of the season, Mulder states that he wishes to quit the FBI because “there's no point working in the FBI without Scully”. Later Scully begs him to reconsider quitting: “I'd consider it more than a professional loss if you were to leave”. The monster of the episode – a parasite in search of a new host – itself not only echoes the monsters Scully encounters upon her return (“It's a parasite. It lives to find a host!”, Trepkos says in “Firewalker”, and “The larvae […] burrow into the new host!” Scully warns in “F. Emasculata”) but Mulder's plight as well. He's forced off the X-files and is struggling to exist without Scully. Like a flukeworm looking for a host, he thus spends the early episodes looking for a new partner, first in “Sleepless”, where he latches onto Krycek, and then in “3”, where he refuses a partner (Detective Gwen) and then eventually partners with a woman who dies because of him.
In other words, the season's opening MOTWs are about Mulder looking for a partner because he can't function without Scully, and the latter MOTWs are about Scully looking to ditch her partner because she's endangered by Mulder. Carter arguably has the season so “symmetrical” he opens the season with “Little Green Men” and ends it with little red men (the “red skinned” Navajo of “Anasazi”), the red desert rocks of New Mexico juxtaposed against the green jungles of Puerto Rico. Carter is so in love with symmetrical patterns – note that almost every season is book-ended by similar scenes – that the first and last episodes of the season end with Mulder in similar, dark, confined, seemingly subterranean spaces.
As we shall see, Carter extends the aforementioned artistic strategies throughout the other seasons of the show, carefully crafting each MOTW to reinforce the overriding themes of that season. In this sense, there are almost no "throwaway" or "standalone" episodes in the show. This series of articles will hopefully examine every season of the show.
(...to be continued)

1. Locations: Blackwater Ridge, Lost Creek, Colorado; Palo Alto, California (for Jess's grave; although the scene we see ends up being a dream, I imagine the start of it is Sam flashing back in his dream)
2. Between this and the Charmed episode, I'm still not 100% sure whether it's supposed to be 'wen-DEE-go' as here, or 'WENN-dig-o' as there. I heard once that Charmed got it right, but still.
3. Dean offers Sam the chance to drive. Wow that comes off as weird.
4. Aliases: Samuel Cole (on Dean's fake park ranger ID, seconds after he's referred to himself as Dean to the woman he's showing it to). I had to pause to make sure it wasn't Samuel Colt.
5. Dean telling Hailey 'I know how you feel' when she's desperate to find her brother. Aww.
6. Telling SAM 'I've been hunting these woods since your mommy was kissing you goodnight'?! Bad form, Roy.
7. Dean's never heard of a wendigo this far west. Maybe he should have checked out San Francisco in 1998
8. Anasazi symbols? Don't remember them recurring much. Were they just a defence against wendigos and not other supernatural beings?
9. 'I think he wants us to pick up where he left off - saving people, hunting things, the family business' - I couldn't stop grinning with nostalgia as soon as Dean started that sentence
10. Dean's speech about being the dutiful son to John - a beautiful capture of such a key part of Dean's character, coming across properly for the first time in the show
11. 'Killing as many evil sons of b*tches as I possibly can'
12. The way Roy's 'Death From Above' was shot was a nicely horrifying touch. Reminded me of what I've seen of Predator
13. Watching this episode after 8x22 'Clip Show' makes me sad. I can only imagine how I'm going to feel when I get, in sequence, to the Sarah Blake episode.

Read online or download for later:
The Four Arms of Destiny: Swastikas in the Hopi World & Beyond - Academia.edu
See also:
The Tetraskelion/Swastika in Iron Age Celtic Culture - Academia.edu
Sumerian Swastika at the Berlin Pergamon Museum
How the world loved the swastika - until Hitler stole it
The Man Who Brought the Swastika to Germany, and How the Nazis Stole It
Buddhist monk raises awareness about the swastika’s original meaning
The Past, Present, and Future of the Swastika in Japan
The Powerful Symbol of the Swastika and its 12,000 Year History
Swastika wiki
Introduction from the first 2/11 pages:
"Most of us shudder when we see photos of swastikas on Nazi flags or on the uniforms of the Third Reich. It reminds us of that terrible historical period in the mid-20th century when hatred threatened to rule the world. Most of us would be surprised to learn, however, that this emblem was once an ancient symbol known the world over to represent just the opposite: peace, prosperity, and fortuity.
A prime example of the positive meaning comes from the Hopi of northern Arizona. When masked kachinas (spirit messengers) dance in the village plaza during annual ceremonies to pray for rainfall and fertility, they carry a flat gourd rattle in their right hand. These rattles frequently bear the image of the swastika.
Far older than Germany’s Nazi regime, this icon of the Anasazi (or ancestral Hopi) had been considered sacred rather than malevolent. Specifically, it represented the center of Hopi land. Frank Waters in his classic Book of the Hopi explains the swastika in terms of the tribe’s prehistoric migrations. “We can now see that the complete pattern formed by the migrations was a great cross whose center, Túwanasavi [Center of the Universe], lay in what is now the Hopi country in the southwestern part of the United States, and whose arms extended to the four directional pásos.
In early times at the start of the Fourth World (the current epoch), one Hopi clan after another began great migrations to the four directions represented by the venerable symbol of the swastika. Waters believes that the Hopi migrated from the Atlantic coast to the Pacific coast and from the Arctic Circle to Tierra del Fuego, though the range may actually be narrower.
Certainly the Anasazi traveled from the Colorado River to the Rio Grande, and from the San Juan River south to the lands of the Toltecs in Mexico and the Maya in Central America. Macaw and parrot feathers or even whole birds have been found in burial sites around the Colorado Plateau. This indicates that the Anasazi had well established trade routes to the south.
Regardless of what the farthest limits of actual migration were, the point where the four arms of the geographical swastika meet is known as the Center of the World, the Tuuwanasavi. This is supposedly a few miles from the Arizona village of Oraibi on the Hopi Third Mesa. Founded about 1120 AD, Oraibi has been continuously inhabited longer than any community on the North American continent. Oraibi literally means “Round Rock,” but the full name of this village is Sip Oraibi, “the place where the earth was made solid” or “the place where the roots solidify.”
The first syllable of the name is similar to the Hopi word for navel: sipna’at. Hence, this tribe considers the spot to be the navel of the world. Waters also suggests that a counterclockwise-turning swastika represents the earth, whereas a clockwise-turning one represents the sun in its movement across the sky.
This indicates the dynamically potent nature of the symbol. In addition to its importance in the beginning times, the swastika also plays a key role in Hopi prophecy of the end times. In a period preordained by the Creator, the enigmatic figure of Pahana will return wearing a red cap or a red cape.
Also known as the Elder Brother, Pahana will verify his authenticity by bearing a stone piece that will match up with the rest of the sacred tablet the Creator had given the Hopi before they began their migrations. Two helpers will accompany Pahana, one of which carries a masculine swastika representing purity and the four directions.
The first helper also brings a Maltese cross with lines between the arms signifying menstrual blood, while the second helper holds merely a sun symbol. The combined forces of these three icons will “shake the world” and bring about global purification."

Read it here - Make sure to look at the incredible photos!
Found this really interesting assessment of the mystery surrounding the crop-circle phenomenon by R.J. Vigoda. It fascinated me how little we actually know about what could be making these incredibly complex symbols.
It's a great read if you have the short time, but the pictures shown are spectacular. If anything, I believe crop circles (these in particular) to be some of the most extraordinary messages we might be recieving from E.Ts. What could be creating them?

Yee Naaldlooshi - Skinwalker
by Gunnar Angel Lawrence
Terry noticed the quick blink of the computer screen when the email arrived. It seemed odd, he thought, but then again it was the end of a long day at work and he made the conscious decision to ignore the email until the next day. He eyed Christina as she got up from her desk and stretched. Her long blond hair cascaded over her shoulders and to her back. She looked at him and smiled broadly, it was time to go home. Terry got lost for a moment in her ice blue eyes and looked downward quickly.
“I know there’s a song called, ‘Its Five O Clock somewhere’ but let me make it official, and it’s time to go home.” Terry said with a smile. Christina lifted both arms into the air and gave a celebratory ‘yay’.
“Christina, call Scott up here, tell him we get paid this week, not a lot, but enough to eat for a few days anyway.” She smiled and pushed the intercom button and relayed the message. Terry opened the drawer picked the two checks out and slammed the drawer shut. The computer screen blinked once and Terry noticed that somehow the email had opened. He looked at the first line and swore.
Christina turned and noticed the expression on Terry’s face.
“No! Terry what is it?”
Scott lumbered into the room and knew that something wasn’t right.
“Wh—What’s wrong, guys?” he asked.
Terry sighed and handed them their checks. Then he summarized the email.
“The package we got from Show Low, Arizona, the one for the new casino? There is an issue. An Indian man is claiming it was stolen from an ancient burial site. He is on his way here now from the airport.”
“That’s bullshit! I know I paid for that piece from Andy, he’s a reputable dealer. I’ve bought from him before.” She said.
“I know that Christina, please do me a favor, find the paperwork on that piece and give the dealer a call for me, he is going to be here in less than an hour. Scott hang around, you’re bigger than I am and I might need someone to take out an elderly Indian for me.” Scott grinned and nodded.
Terry’s company found and acquired rare pieces for private collections, hotels, casinos and the occasional museum. The new casino in Miami had asked for interesting Indian décor. Unfortunately, few genuine Indian artifacts were found anymore in Florida that didn’t already have the name of a casino stamped on them. This piece was found in Navajo territory in a backwater community called Show Low.
Terry watched Christina lean against her desk with a sigh, her paperwork in hand. They were all very aware of the financial difficulties their company had been having since the recession started. And they all knew that a delay with the selling of this piece to the casino would mean a delay in cashing their next checks. He cleared his throat and pretended not to watch her stretch again. He knew that she knew that he liked her; there was just never the right moment. It wasn’t too much longer before a truck pulled up to the office. They heard the squeal of the brakes and all three bolted for the door. The delivery driver heaved his overweight frame out of the truck and shoved the small box and a clipboard into Terry’s hands. Terry took the box and signed the form on the clipboard.
The driver, Lenny, nodded with relief.
“Now you can deal with the Chief here, He’s followed me all day.”
Terry glanced over to where he pointed and saw the long white car pull to a stop behind the truck. The man who stepped out could have been in his seventies, but there was a strength about him that was conveyed with swift, firm movements. His bronzed skin seemed to glisten in the humid Florida afternoon. He strode over and waved good bye to the delivery driver who was moving as quick as his girth would allow.
The old man called after the delivery driver.
“Get out of here now sir, it is very important.” Lenny nodded and climbed into his van from the rear.
Terry watched the old man turned and focused on him.
“My name is Ata Halne. I am begging you not to open that package. We need to get inside, before the sun sets, it is coming.”
Terry smiled, “Mr. Halne…
“No! My name is Ata Halne, I don’t have time for explanations out here, we have maybe ten minutes before the sun sets. Get inside now please.”
Terry stared back at Scott and Christina and they appeared to be as confused as he was. All three of them backed into the building and shut the door. Ata Halne reached over, bolted the door and slid the bar lock in place. He turned toward them and breathed a sigh of relief.
“Now, are there any open windows, barred or not, and are there any other entrances to this building?” He moved closer and they backed up. Christina, normally not one to take attitude, especially when she was ready to leave, was not speaking. She was gripping Scott’s hand with enough intensity to cause him to wince.
“Mr. Halne…” Terry started.
“I said my name was Ata Halne, now answer the question.”
“Okay fine. No there are no other doors, no windows on this floor….”
The old man pointed at Scott, “You, go shut the windows on the other floor now.” Scott hesitated, and looked at Terry, who nodded.
“Hey, we paid for that package and we got it from someone who has always been honest with us. What is your beef with this package?” Terry demanded.
The old man lifted his calloused finger and pointed it straight at Terry’s face. Unwavering, he held the finger there and spoke.
“Anasazi.”
II
The word rolled off the man’s tongue with a cold trill. Terry felt a chill shoot through him when he heard it, though he had no idea what the word meant. The old man repeated himself.
“Anasazi. What you have in that package is Anasazi.”
Christina cleared her throat, still hesitant to approach the old man and spoke, “Anasazi, that’s Navajo legend right?”
The old man stared at her, “Funny thing about legends, a lot of them tend to have some element of truth to them. For the Anasazi, even the legend doesn’t cover how evil and how real they are.”
Terry looked at Christina, who had become something of an expert in Indian artifacts in a short time.
“Chris, I’m at a loss here, what is Anasazi?”
She grinned cautiously. “They’re spooks, ghosts, witches; he’s keeping us here for a damn ghost story.”
Ata Halne raised his finger to her and the cautious grin retreated from her face. “You are about to find out how much of a ghost story the Anasazi are.” He turned to Scott who had just returned from upstairs. “Are those windows shut and locked?” Scott nodded.
The old man turned to the door and reached into a small leather pouch hanging from his belt and pulled a white powder from the bag. He tossed the powder against the door with some low chanting.
Terry had finally had enough. “All right, Mr. Halne, whoever you are, we’ve had enough. It’s time you get going.” He walked over to the door and began to pull on the bar lock. And that’s when he noticed the door knob slowly turning.
“It’s here.” Ata Halne muttered.
Maybe it was the cold way in which he spoke; maybe it was just the sight of the door knob turning as he reached to open it. Whatever it was, Terry stopped and backed away from the door. Christina and Scott were behind him and shuffled over to the door. The knock came loudly and insistently, echoing inside the room making it seem as if it had come from seven different directions.
The three of them stood behind Ata Halne, their eyes focused on that twisting, turning knob. A muffled cry came from the other side of the door.
“Terry! Can you come out here please?” they recognized the voice of the delivery driver and Terry laughed slightly.
“Oh shit, Ata, you really had us going there. But seriously it’s time for you to leave. I need to see what he wants.”
Ata Halne lifted his hand and placed it on his shoulder. “If you open that door, he will kill you, your friends and me.”
“It’s just Lenny, he’s an asshole but he isn’t going to kill anyone.” Terry moved toward the door and was stopped again by the Old Man who shook his head.
“Lenny is dead, because he didn’t listen to me. What stands out there now is the Yee Naaldlooshii, a Skinwalker.”
Christina giggled. “So what old man, you’re saying Lenny is a werewolf? Terry, let’s go home.” She gave the old man a look of disbelief and walked over to Terry.
Terry looked at her puzzled.
“The Yee Naaldlooshii, skinwalkers, they are suppose to use Anasazi magic to wear animal skins and become whatever animal they want to. They are early werewolf legends, but they turn into more than just wolves. It’s magic bullshit.”
The old man walked past Christina to the window and pointed outside. “Can you see him, out there, in the shadows, are you sure it is Lenny?”
She moved to the window and nodded, “Yes, Lenny is right there, plain as day. He’s standing next to his truck.”
“And how far is that from the door here?” the old man asked.
Christina shrugged, “About fifteen to twenty feet.”
The old man nodded, “I see, so how is it exactly, that Lenny is turning the door knob on your door from twenty feet away?”
Christina then turned to look at the knob, and back to the figure in the dark. The Indian was right, the knob was still moving. Her face grew pale as she backed away from the window. Terry made his way over to the window and peered outside. The overweight shadowy figure rocked back and forth on his heels in the shadows, and he was indeed too far away to be turning the knob. Terry tried to speak but felt a lump form in his throat.
Seeing he had their attention, the old man said, “Call him closer, but don’t touch the door.”
Christina called out, “Hey Lenny, come on over here.”
‘Lenny’ moved deftly for a fat man and walked briefly into the light that shown from the roof of the building. When ‘Lenny’ looked up, the old man touched Christina’s shoulder. “Look at his eyes.”
She saw “Lenny’s” eyes glow a fierce yellow and gasped. “Lenny” seemed to hear her and stepped back into the shadows swiftly.
Her eyes widened, she looked to the old man.
“When the Yee Naaldlooshii are in human form, their eyes glow at night, like an animals. When they are in animal form, their eyes do not glow like an animals’ should. Like I said, your friend Lenny is dead.”
The tears formed in her eyes quickly as she realized that the old man was telling the truth. Scott was yelling.
“Bullshit, no this is bullshit!” he tore his cap from his head and tossed it to the ground. Terry looked out the window, then back at the old man.
Ata Halne spoke, “If you had told me when I was your age, that I could sit at a desk here in Florida and type something that would be seen in Arizona, or any other part of the world instantly, I would have said it was bullshit. Today, you call it email.”
Terry glanced out the window and addressed Ata Halne. “What the fuck is in that box, old man?”
He opened his mouth to speak and that is when the pounding began. It was as if two massive invisible fists beat the metallic walls. The walls shook with each hit. Christina screamed and ran to Terry. Scott looked up as the pounding escalated, now the roof was being pummeled. The pounding continued as Ata Halne began sprinkling the white powder toward the window.
He turned toward the three and began to speak, hesitated, and started again.
“Short version. The Anasazi control very dark magic, there are very few of them left. The amulet inside that box belonged to a chief among the Anasazi, he was said to have consorted with demons. When he died, his house was burned and his charms were buried on sacred ground. It was buried in a tomb on sacred burial grounds where Anasazi cannot go. When the honest person you bought it from found it, he had no idea what it was. The Skinwalker wants this amulet, to help him consort with demons and gain the power that comes with it.”
Terry shook his head. The pounding suddenly ceased. They stared up briefly and Terry spoke.
“So why didn’t he get it in Arizona? Why wait until it got here?”
“The Skinwalker has no power when the sun is in the sky. The amulet was removed from the protection of the sacred grounds and was on a plane bound for here before the sun fell. A Skinwalker is fast, but cannot keep up with a plane.”
Scott, recovered from his earlier fit, now asked, “So what do we do now?”
The old man leaned in, “Are you sure those windows are shut tight?”
“Shit!” Scott yelled and rushed upstairs.
Terry watched Scott go and faced Ata Halne, “So about his question, what do we do now?”
The old man sighed, “The amulet needs to be returned to sacred ground. It needs to be buried and this,” he reached down into his leather pouch to pull out some white powder, “this needs to be sprinkled on top of the burial place. Preferably, it should be sprinkled in the form of a circle. The Yee Naaldlooshii will not be able to enter sacred ground in Skinwalker form, and will not be able to reach the amulet shielded by the white ash in human form. One more thing, their power they get from fear, the fear you feel now, fuels the Skinwalker outside. Pretty soon, he will be strong enough to get in.”
Scott shook his head. “No, no damn it, we paid for that thing. No shit-face Indian monster is gonna take it. I’m getting the Judge.”
Terry agreed. Scott disappeared into his office and returned a moment later, the massive three inch barrel weapon at his side.
It was Ata Halne’s turn to be confused. “Judge?” he asked.
Terry pointed and explained, “Scott’s judge is a 45 long colt. He’s gonna blast the shit out of your Skinwalker.”
“No weapon will have an effect on the Skinwalker. All he’s going to do is make a hole big enough for it to get in the building. Unless…” he approached Scott who held the Judge in his hand.
“Scott, are those hollow points?” Ata Halne asked. Scott nodded. “Please, let me see them.” Ata Halne asked. Scott looked at Terry and Christina, removed the bullets and handed them to the old man.
The old man packed his white powder into the hollow points and stood them up on the desk next to him. He pulled out a flask and wet the powder in each bullet with the liquid inside.
When he saw the three looking at him, he shrugged, “Whiskey, it will keep the ash from flying out while the bullet travels.”
Terry pointed at the Indian’s pouch, “Ash? What does that do?”
The Indian patted the pouch and handed the bullets back to Scott.
“This ash is the white ash of a sacred tree. The branches of the tree are capable of killing the Yee Naaldlooshi, but only in his human form. Sharpen a branch, pierce the skin. When the Yee Naaldlooshi is strongest in animal form, not even sacred tree can kill him, but the ashes of part of the sacred tree branches can cause it great pain.”
“So, this ash can kill it then?”
The Indian shrugged, “It is possible. I’ve have only heard of one Skinwalker that was successfully hit with a bullet. He was three feet away when the bullet struck him. It didn’t affect him and he killed the man that shot him.”
Scott heard the last part and hesitated, staring down at the Judge. He looked at Terry, then at Christina and approached the window. He glanced briefly and turned inside.
“Guys, he’s gone.”
All of them gathered around Scott, and looked out the window. The delivery truck was still where Lenny had parked it. But “Lenny” was no longer in sight. The absence of the pounding from the outside now screamed at them in silence.
Ata Halne pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Terry. He placed his hand on Terry’s shoulder and spoke.
“We do not have much time; this is the location of the closest true sacred ground to us. It is behind a house several miles from here. If your gun does not work, and it won’t, you must bury this in the center of the enclosed area behind the house. This house was built on the site of a great chief’s dwelling.”
Terry stopped him, “Whoa wait. What about you?”
The old man reached into his pocket and pulled out another leather pouch handing it to Terry. “We don’t have much time, left. Take the amulet and when I say go, you go.”
“What about that thing out there?” Terry asked.
Ata Halne gave Terry a grim look, “It’s not out there anymore, it is in here with us.”
Christina screamed and pulled close to Scott. They pulled together in the center of the room, their eyes darting to and fro in the room.
Ata Halne began speaking.
“Remember, the Skinwalker can appear to be anyone or anything or any size. Do not let each other out of your sight. It can take your appearance, and your voice, but it won’t have your memories. It will try to stop you from completing the burial, in human form; the Skinwalker has all the strength of any human, but is cunning. You have the map; you must go and do this.”
A high pitched wail rose from the corners of the room and the lights snapped off. Scott yelled, “Shit!” Terry’s hands grasped around in the darkness and pulled at the arms closest to him. He felt Christina trembling and Scott, arms extended waving the Judge around in the darkness. From the darkness came Ata Halne’s cry, “Go, all of you. Go now!”
He cried out in pain and screamed in Navajo. The three bolted in the general direction of the front door and stumbled over the unseen desks and chairs in their path. Terry still clung to the box and fumbled in his pocket for the car keys. They heard Ata Halne grunt and an unearthly screech pierce the night.
They made it to Terry’s car, scrambled in and locked the doors. While Terry fumbled with quaking hands to get the key in to the ignition, Christina looked back at the doorway and shrieked, pointing. Ata Halne stumbled out of the office and raised his hands. She grabbed Terry’s arm and squeezed. He watched the old man approach the vehicle. An odd grin was on his face and he began to beckon to them. Terry stuck the key in and turned, nothing happened.
“Oh shit!” He turned the key again, the engine clicked.
Ata Halne came closer and smiled. He reached his hands around the back of his neck and pulled. His face collapsed inward, blood poured from his eyes, mouth and nose as the flesh mask fell forward.
Click click
Scott pointed the Judge at the gruesome sight aimed, and pulled the trigger. The explosion roared in their ears as they saw the creature reel back from the impact. The remains of Ata Halne’s flesh fell from around the creature. It was more shadow than substance, and turned its glowing yellow eyes toward the car as it fell to the ground.
Click, click, the car engine roared to life as the creature stretched out its hand. Scott raised the Judge and fired four more times. The creature cried out as each round struck home. Terry slammed the car into ‘Drive’ and punched the accelerator. With a swift turn of the wheel he drove over the creature writhing on the ground.
There was a slight shudder as the rear wheel spun off the slick bloody mass that was once Ata Halne. It was only now that Terry noticed that Christina had been screaming, he spun the car around and they sat and watched the quivering mass on the ground. With their ears still ringing from the gunshots, and from the screaming, they didn’t hear Scott speak the first time. Terry turned when he saw Scott’s mouth moving and asked, “What?”
“Is it dead?” he yelled back.
Terry shook his head, “I don’t know.” Tears ran down Christina’s face as she reached up and removed hair from her eyes with quaking fingers. The creature shuddered. With eyes locked onto ‘it’, the trio waited. They barely breathed as they watched it raise a misshapen arm from the pile of flesh and begin to push itself upwards.
“Damn it! I’m out of bullets. Hit it again, Terry.”
“No, we’re getting out of here.”
Terry yanked the wheel to the right and headed toward the highway at full speed. They stared back at the creature that was now stumbling to its feet, standing over Scott's corpse. They were doing eighty when the creature finally disappeared from view.
Each of them were panting heavily and remained silent for several minutes. Terry wiped the sweat from his brow and pressed harder on the accelerator. Neither of them realized how many hours they were driving before they finally came to the turn off the old man had indicated. They pulled in, exhausted. And Terry got out of the car.
III
Terry watched Scott get out of the car. He could tell that Scott was nervous, more because of the expression on his face as he stared straight ahead at the house in the distance than because of any words he used. Scott gave him a familiar nod of the head in the direction of the odd house and stepped away from the car. Terry turned to walk toward Christina when it hit. The blur leapt over the rear of the car with a deafening wail and landed on Scott’s back. Terry heard the strained gurgle as Scott fell to the ground with a thud. His neck had been torn open in one swift move, the blood exploding outward hitting Terry and Christina. She screamed as Scott hit the ground and began pulling and clawing at Terry to run. They stumbled away from their friend and headed toward the only cover available. The house.
Christine reached the door first, slamming her body against it with full force; the door gave as they burst into the room. Terry was a half second behind but still managed to get in her way when she tried to slam the door shut. With trembling fingers, she bolted the door and fastened the chain. Then she noticed the blood on her hand, her clothes and face. She began shaking. They had heard it coming; the warm moist breath it expelled with each step seemed to reach the backs of their necks even at a hundred yards. That panting might as well have been the creature laughing at them, for all the effort it expended in killing their friend and chasing them down. As Terry looked at Christina, they both realized that the only reason they made it to the house, was because Scott didn’t.
‘The old Indian had been right.’ Terry thought to himself. ‘Here we were, the young smart professionals with no time for ancient magic bullshit being chased by a homicidal magic creature.’ He winced at the irony and cursed the damned email that started it all, just a few short hours ago.
Christina shivered as she wrapped her arms around Terry’s neck and wept. The house was deserted and there were several more hours before sun rise. She buried her face in his chest and he embraced her. He kissed the top of her head, and said, “I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” She nodded silently. Terry kissed her again and guided her away from the front door. After a few moments, Terry took the amulet from his pocket where he had stashed it just in case, and examined it. It wasn’t anything spectacular; it appeared to be made of wood and turquoise with some gold pieces dangling from the center.
The wind whipped up outside the door, but there was no banging. There were no scratches at the window and no pounding on the roof. Terry pocketed the amulet and peeked out the window. On this moonless, starless night little was visible save the glow of the nearby city that lit up the hills and horizon around it.
A rap on the back wall caused him to jump. He looked over at Christina; her head buried in her hands and decided to check out the noise. The room appeared to be the den of a hunter or outdoors enthusiast. Mounting boards lined the wall with distorted heads of long departed animals. Terry approached what appeared to be a fire place and wondered if anything could get in.
He heard a rustle behind him and turned. Christina stood in the shadows, and he could see her shaking.
“I’m scared, Terry.”
He nodded and came to her side.
“I know. Me too.”
“Hold me, Terry.” She brushed her chest against his sending his heart rate skyrocketing. He placed his hand at the small of her back and squeezed.
“Always, Christina, always.”
Her hands fell to his waist and pulled him in tighter.
“Why couldn’t we just toss the damned thing out there and let it go away. Doesn’t that make sense? Then we could stay here. Please, please, just throw it outside.”
Terry shook his head. “That thing killed my best friend. I’m not giving it shit.”
Christina pulled back, “I know that, he was my friend too, but I don’t want to die. Where is it Terry? It wasn’t in the box.”
A chill went up Terry’s spine. “How did you know it wasn’t in the box, Christina?”
She shrugged and raised her eyes to meet his. Terry saw the yellow glow emanating from her once beautiful ice blue eyes. He stumbled backward.
“Oh God, no, not Christina!”
‘She’ smiled. “Is this what you want, this body? I know it is.”
Terry stared into the face of the woman he loved, but never told. He reached for the leather pouch as ‘she’ continued speaking.
“Where is the amulet, Terry? Tell me now and I’ll make sure that you die as quickly as she did.”
“Go to Hell.”
‘She’ laughed. “Kiss me Terry.” ‘She’ leaned down and climbed on top of him. He could still smell the perfume in her hair. Her cold lips locked on to his and pulled. Terry struggled to retreat, to get that hand full of ash from the pouch, but he shook as ‘she’ leaned in again. She placed a hand on his thigh and slid it upward.
Terry yanked his hand from the leather pouch and shoved the white ash into ‘her’ opening mouth. ‘She’ screeched and tore Christina’s flesh off where it collapsed into a crimson mess.
It rolled on the floor with a horrible wail as it clawed at what could only be its ‘mouth’. Terry leapt to his feet and ran for the back door. He passed Christina’s body lying in a bloody mound and cried out in anger and pain. He tore open the back door and ran into the back yard. One section of the yard was fenced off, and he saw the Indian symbols on the grave. Terry kneeled and overturned a stone in that section of the yard.
He tore at the ground with his hands trying to get a hole dug in the tough soil. He reached into his pocket, removed the amulet and dropped it into the shallow hole. He covered it over, replaced the rock and sprinkled white ash in a circle over the stone. Then with two handfuls of the remaining ash, he waited. The creature burst from the house and raced toward Terry. Its form glistened and sparkled, looking more like a shadow than a solid creature. Its forward progress stopped suddenly at the fence, as if it had hit an invisible wall.
“Skinwalker, meet sacred ground.” Terry said.
“NO!” it shouted. “It’s not possible. We are too far from Navajo land.”
“So was the Navajo chief they buried here.”
The creature shrieked and clawed at the air trying to pass through the invisible impenetrable shield. After several minutes of fruitless attempts, the creature began walking the border around the sacred ground. Terry turned as the creature did, never taking his eyes off of it.
“In a couple of hours, the sun will be up Skinwalker. I can wait, can you?”
The creature looked to the east and knew Terry was right. It spoke.
“The woman, you loved her?”
“Yes, I loved her and you killed her.”
The creature’s expression, if you could call it that, turned up into a smile. It pointed a finger at Terry.
“With the power of the amulet, I can give you your woman back alive.”
Terry stopped.
‘No, Ata Halne said that the creature would be cunning.’ Terry thought.
The creature spoke again, “We sit here at an impasse, and I have told you what I can do for you. You know what you can do for me. And yet neither moves.”
“You can make Christina alive again?”
The creature nodded. “With the help of the amulet, I can do anything.”
“How do I know you won’t kill me when I give it to you?”
“Obviously, you don’t. But you can sit and wait for her body to decay, or I can give her back to you now.”
Terry held out his left hand, as if to drop the amulet he didn't have any longer into the creatures' grasp and extended it over the border of the fence. When the creature opened its hand, Terry grasped it and pulled. White ash flew into the creature, searing it. With a hard yank, Terry pulled the creature through the fence. It writhed in agony, thrashing on the ground.
“I kind of figured that if touching sacred ground was too painful for you, that having the shit kicked out of you with sacred ground might do the trick.” Terry turned and picked up the stone. He brought the stone down on the creature’s head and heard a sick crack. He lifted the stone again and brought it down through the torso of the Skinwalker. Green smoke bellowed from the cracks in the creatures form.
Slowly, the creature began to lose his form and the twitching ceased. Terry looked down and watched as the form melted into the sacred ground and sizzled. He dropped the stone back into its place and stood over the liquefied remains of the Skinwalker. He picked up more stones from the sacred ground and placed them on the bubbling black liquid. He stayed for the sunrise; just to make sure the creature was as dead as it now smelled. When the sunlight hit the black ooze, it disintegrated into dust. There would be no human form for this Skinwalker not any more. Only when there was enough light in the sky did he leave the sacred ground and head for his car.

Once when I was alone in the forest I saw a large figure coming towards me quickly when I shot at it, nothing happened until I drew a special symbol on the ground around me. The creature started to shrink slowly until it was finally on the ground, then I shot at it again and it started to burn in a strange way. Suddenly something reddish that looked like an elongated spirit came out of the being. I looked at the spirit being and sealed it in a bottle with an Anasazi symbol. When several milky eyes looked at me from the darkness I drew another symbol around me. I waited until dawn, which felt incredibly soothing as the first rays of sunlight struck my face. As I left the forest I saw a house burning nearby and never returned to the mountain. No one believed me when I told the story and the spirit being turned grey the next day and all that was left was ashes.

This will be long. Skip to the bottom and if you resonate read the entirety, please reply or PM me. I've had so few authentic validations for what I've experienced and little to none direct guidance in my spiritual journey.
BACKGROUND:
I was raised in Utah in the LDS religion (Culty off branch of Christianity). 6 older siblings and divorced parents from the age of 1. When I was very young I had an inquisitive mind and could think very abstractly at a young age. My mother consulted with a child psychologist on how she should approach my questions about reality because they were.. complex. Too simple of an answer and It wouldnt answer the question and cause me to become frustrated. Too complex of an answer and I would simply lack sufficient life experience to comprehend it.
The psychologist accused my mother of lying about my behavior and seeking personal validation. saying for how young I was "it was not possible to be thinking that way"
My mother was ecstatic to finally have a child who was sincerely interested in the more mystical and spiritual aspects of life. Although.. I hated going to church. I'm sure it was an intuitive knowing. (Not neccesarily referencing ALL religions. But if you know about the LDS church then well.. you just know)
When I was 13 (lucky number! Truly is a magical symbol) I began researching chakra's, meditation, making "chi balls" and using breathwork to move prana. Dial up internet was all there was and I remember just sitting there on google with a strong desire to find an answer to a question I didn't know how to ask. It would be a long while before I learned the word kundalini or discovered the Tao among many other sources of wisdom.
then of course began the juvenile initiation of challenging the status qoe. Became very rebellious and expiremented with drugs.
During Christmas break of my junior year of highschool we visited my sisters house for Christmas in Colorado. Because of my teenage rebeliousness, Instead of going directly home, we took a detour. I didn't know what was happening until I was already in the custody of a youth wilderness rehabilitation program.
I spent 7 weeks without technology (no flashlights, matches, plumbing, or even toilet paper!) We were on a vegetarian diet and mostly just hiked around. The culture there was phenomenal. Anasazi, was the name. And it was one of the best experiences of my life.
4 weeks in, I faced my shadow. Then I began focusing intensly on my heart Chakra everyday. 5th week in, I was a completely different person. (This occurred towards the end of January 2011) my heart Chakra was bursting! I experienced several powerful omens there. The most profound was hiking with a white butterfly on my left ring finger for several hours. (Symbols of transformation, and ring finger association with the nerve going directly to the heart)
For this awakening, I was gifted an honor name. "Amber-Heart of scarlet" by a very wise man whose trail name was (we all had one) "walks with the wind". A very intuitive soul.
A very intense form of happiness, peace, and fulfillment was found in the wilderness of Northern Arizona.
When I came home in February (missing my highschool sweethearts birthday, and valentines day) I felt like everything would be okay. I was wrong.
She thought I had abandoned her because she didn't get any of my letters. She made poor decisions and it caused us to be separated with no contact. Her family moved across the state pretty quickly and I was left with a void.
My opened heart, felt like it had been physically torn out of my chest.
Life... is probably just how we choose to respond to suffering. For we all will suffer. But suffering can make you bitter, can fuel your darkness or.. we can take it upon ourselves to learn how to heal. And to feel our pain reverently.
That summer was "one for the boys". Me dealing with heartbreak and other rites of passage. It was a good summer all things considering. Although in the background there was a foreboding sense of hopelessness. That is until..
THE EVENT: The last day of summer before my senior year of high school me and my close friend knew we had to go out with a bang. This would be the last day of a school summer we'd ever have. So we took a some mushrooms.
I wanted to explore the realm of consciousness while utilizing the tools I had been developing for the last 4 years. Through focusing intensley on my on my 6th chakra. Trying to open it the same way I opened my heart. I meditated on it for 20-40min. Gathering prana there. I felt a very gentle pop. Like smoke coming out of a bubble in the middle of my brain outwards. A cool little sensation but I was excited for an epiphany or a grand insight.
I was not prepared for what I recieved.
5 hours later. Me and 2 friends were in a garage relaxing, smoking and Conversing. I must of felt tired, or I'm not sure. But for some reason I found myself with my eyes closed sitting on the chair.
When suddenly, almost out of nowhere. I saw an incredibly bright flash of light, like.. literally saw a bright flash (my eyes were closed). But the "light" was filled with information. It was like.. a picture, of a thousand pictures. Concepts unfolding like Russian dolls all happening instantaneously.
I saw duality. I saw yin-yang. I honestly barely remember because I was so caught up in trying to capture the experience into words, for a fear that I would forget it. Yet, the more I tried to cram it into language the more incomprehensible it became.
So I calmed down and tried to just let my mind ponder upon it.
This time I VISUALIZED. Myself as a ball of light. A consciousness, moving through space-time. With the unique ability to choose what experiences I wanted. BAM instant cure for depression. Life suddenly became incredibly simple and profound. I would visualize what I wanted. And then I would follow the "path" through spacetime to experience that desire. Whether it be longboarding 10 miles away to see some friends, or spending 2 hours working with leather to weave a bracelet. There were no limitations. There weren't even obstacles. There was just a mathematic equation of how badly you want something vs how hard it is to get it. And for some reason, my desires became incredibly pure.
I remember longboarding home for 2 hours and using my hands instead of feet because I was so tired. But I was HAPPY. I was always moving towards a space-time I desired. Which is much more harmonious than fearing the reality that you don't want.
Suddenly I was happy ALL the time. It was pure nirvana. Pure bliss. I didn't care about drugs, I didn't care about sex. I was just.. overjoyed. I was in this afterglow state for about a week. For the first time I was ecstatic to wake up early and go to school. To do all tasks to the best of my ability. Ideas, thoughts, concepts, philosophies poured into my consciousness on the constant. I learned how to be fully present, and ENJOY the presence. I was suddenly uninhibited, outgoing and confident. It was like Anasazi, but a higher mountain peak all together.
I influenced the emotions of others around me to the extent that I was magnetic. People wanted to be around me! And that was new cause I've always been a loner, never having a constant friend group. Synchronicities occurred extremely frequently I was amazed at the miracle of life.
We played volleyball in P.E and I was VERY competitive. I dove for the ball. I scraped my knees and made them a bit bloody, but I was having FUN. Fully immersed in the moment. But the other kids. They wanted to act "cool" like they didn't really care. I just didn't care about what they thought or not.
Except.. i was acting unusual. I was breaking away from the herd, i was standing out. And NOBODY had ever tried that hard in that teachers P.E class. And that teacher never saw the happy version of me. Only the shy depressed version.
They were suspicious I was abusing drugs. The cops were called. I got called up to the front desk of school. And detained by 4 police officers.
I felt I had just reached Mount Olympus, and finally could walk forward and have success in life. And now, it was topling over. I was falling back into subjugation. Fear washed over me and through me. I knew that I needed to feel it, let it pass through. Not to resist it. Or repress it. I knew that I had this power of reflection within me. That, this negative dark pit, would serve as a vector point for me to experience an equal version of positive light skys.
And then reality cracked. I think it was the fear response that was the catalyst for a psychosis, perhaps fight or flight? Adrenaline. Maybe I opened my 3rd eye, and fear caused my awareness to travel to the reptilian brain. Either way. Reality started to warp and bend and this was entirely a new experience for me.
I felt like I was sending out SOS signals energetically when suddenly a man in plain clothes opened the police car door and said "Would you rather ride with me?"
Uhh.. duh! Most definitely. His energy was much more harmonious than the police officers. I got in his plain white sedan (pretty sure I was still cuffed. I'm not sure..) and he drove me to AT. A juvenile holding facility, DT is where you go when you get sentenced. I was just staying there until I was released to my mother.
He was the facility director. Which is why he had authority to transport me. Still.. a bit unusual no?
His name sounded eerily similar to WEST. and I began to think of him as the personification of the direction and symbol. The GOD OF WEST. he definitely wasn't a wicked witch lol. He knew about chakra's and we talked about the heart Chakra and how he believes his in his "life of the heart". I no longer felt fear. I was happy, yet again.
He could tell I was acting a little strange and asked if I had done LSD. (my mind registered that question as "have you EVER done lsd"
So I replied "yes"
So the rest of the day he thought I was just tripping on LSD. and I was "tripping" just not off any drugs. Which made it more confusing to me. If I didn't take any mind altering substances then how could I be experiencing altered states of mind..
I did have full blown hallucinations though. Vivid ones. One of the AT rooms was a bright pink carpeted girls room. With a double bunkbed and the girl inside was being punished, so she was made to clean this room. She didn't want to, and I found it odd that she was being punished in a way that actually benefitted her and she was upset! Its like gettijg punished for rolling in the mud by getting a nice hot soapy shower. I thought it was odd.
However
I KNEW that what I was seeing wasn't real. But then.. how was I seeing it? And why? That I didn't understand. She was really in there cleaning, but the room was not pink. And it was not a permanent girls room.
I thought that the flies we had to kill were "manifestations of negative energy" and we had to constantly clean our environment, energetically. Or that West had 7 wives, one from each continent, and I needed 7 wives as well.
All these delusional thoughts had very strong symbolic and metaphorical meanings that I later integrated. 7 wives I assume was related to the chakras. Kundalini must marry each chakra to reunite with Shakti in the celestial marriage in the crown chakra. Each chakra is a gatekeeper. And when kundalini reaches them. POWERFUL life lessons and tests are doled out.
I felt i could do anything with an open mind, i just needed to let myself be teachablel. I would let not only my elders teach me, but also the tree's and the wind. I realized so much of our reality is an illusion. Most fences do not keep anyone out. Anyone can hop over. But the fence is a psychological barrier. The physical form is a symbol of that. And many people without thinking recognize that symbols. "Oh i need to stay out of there"
Except the FENCE is an illusion because it alone can't keep anyone out. our beliefs in limitation is what limits us. So what are the illusions we have about ourselves? I started to see these things increasingly as metaphor and symbol, And their direct connection to the esoteric symbols I've been studying.
At one point I was walking by a farm. And the big sprinklers were going. I would catch a glimmer of a rainbow and thought. "Follow the rainbow to the end" so I followed it. The mist soon surrounded me and the most curious thing happened.
The rainbow became a circle, there was no end to the rainbow, but the pot of gold? Why what was that in the center? It was a reflection of the sun itself! A mirage of the sun with a rainbow around it. What metaphor did this teach me in that moment?
I was the gold. My soul was the treasure at the "end" of a rainbow. Now walking out of the field soaking wet.. i didn't like walking in worn out. Nasty, smelly, and now wet shoes. So.. i kicked them off and walked barefoot. I didnt even bring them back. I just threw them away right there. And it felt so liberating! (Although I did where black socks as a makeshift shoe just to keep my feet clean.
Another really strange thing happened. At one point was wondering around trying to get to school but the bus schedule didn't make any sense because I just couldn't comprehend time anymore. So, I kept missing it. So finally I got frustrated and stuck my thumb out (this was a small suburban town) And a few moments later im picked up by this old beat up car thats missing a radio. Some college kid who I qoute "likes to drive around at lunch time and offer rides to those who need them" he had a very feminine aura which I associated with the color blue. Was he the divine feminine manifested out of thin air to aid me? Fuck if i know, but I know exactly how crazy that sounds.
Its like he spawned out of thin air. My logical brain just says, well, law of attraction and there's such diversity in human beings that maybe he does just enjoy helping people out when he can. But there's another side, that speculates.. its all just too perfect of a coincidence. Especially when I was in such a high vibrational state.
I noticed if I was too hot outside, in that moment I would plead/desire/ almost ask internally but not quite, and suddenly a very cooling breeze would manifest right when I was focused on the heat the most. Idk I experiened ALOT of little things like that.
Anyway, I show up to school late so I had to be signed in with a slip. But the lady at the desk had hundreds of thousands of dollars on her desk and she was rolling them up. I felt "tempted" to grab the money and run. But.. I had a very strong suspicion that it was a test. Yet here's the thing. I KNEW the money wasn't real. And honestly didn't really care about materialism that much anymore. I really didn't care for much else than the joy of being alive and watching life unfold.
I also remember starting to get the "i am christ" thought pattern. Didn't know about christ consciousness yet, but started to wonder if people saw me as christ. I however rejected the ego trip and knew I wasn't here to be "the christ to die for all mankind"
Also, I would step on very thorny weeds barefoot, confident they wouldn't harm me. And they didn't. And a few people who saw it were astonished that I wasn't getting "pricked".
Maybe a smaller version of firewalking? Idk It wasn't about how great am I that "I" cannot be hurt. It was more. "Awe your such a cute lil plant and you know I don't judge you as being a mean weed. I TRUST that you won't hurt me.
The phenomenon of mother nature not harming me where sometimes she harms others. Popped up alot.
Respecting the mother was also a HUGE download. Your real mother, the divine mother. Its like the Tibetans believe. All mothers, are your mother in one of your reincarnations.
Anyway, I existed in this altered state for roughly 30 days. Which led to multiple hospitalizations, a whole shitload of pharmaceuticals and a near death experience from dehydration in the mountains of park city Utah.
During this experience I remeber comprehending very clearly that the human body is a blueprint, a map, built into its structure. How this map, points from the base of the spine upwards. How each organ is placed in a certain order and fashion to promote this blueprint. This pathway. This guide. A living scripture. A breathing testament. And it was just so... obvious. (Probably a 3rd eye thing)
Reality kept cracking around me though. I was supposed to go camping with my family. Instead of packing actual useful items I packed DVD's and crystals/stones. I thought I was going to be joining my soul tribe. And they exist. In the past. And I was bringing them the gifts from my journey.
So.. yeah, i end up at my dad's house, acting a bit strangely. We're gonna leave in the morning. We'll we put on a movie. "A river runs through it" and i noticed something.. the interplay of two aspects. The dance of yin and yang. The two brothers are each an aspect of yin and yang (Brad pitt was yang) and its a constant interplay of push and pull.
I saw this pattern EVERYWHERE. Playing out in different ways yet... in the exact same way..
I stayed up all night and then left the house at 5am.
I had gone about 30-40hrs without sleep and 27 hrs without food or water , the last 14 were spent heavily hiking (sometimes running) in the heat of the sun. From 5am to 7pm. In the mountains of park city. I went into a bit of a deluirem from dehydration. So I was pretty far gone. I was initially trying to walk through the portal of the sun.. yeah..
However I did see myself returning to "my people" my brothers, my family, my tribe. And there was a length of time as well. A 10,000 year journey.. and i still don't know what that means. Maybe nothing.
I also could visualize myself, and feel myself as imbued with the essence of a wolf. Like.. i was a human. But very strongly felt the wolf totem within my being. Like I was wolf who had evolved to a human, and now possess all the intelligence, language, emotion etc of a human. (Had zero desire to eat people lol so don't worry)
I was so exhausted I laid down in a pile of leaves. If I would of fallen asleep there. I would of died no doubt. But I heard two men walking nearby.
"What's he doing?" "He's pretending to be a tree again" "Well throw a rock at him"
I wasnt afraid, I wasn't startled. But suddenly and without thinking I jumped up and started full sprinting! (I believe the "rock" is what Robert Monroe defines as a ROTE. A ball of energetically charged information. And the rock said "run!")
Lol it probably saved my life. Cause I wondered on a bit and then gave up, sat down and started counting down from 100. I was visible from a road from that exact spot.(Somehow I heard the police talking about me even tho they were incredibly far away. All my senses were incredibly heightened. (Probably from the dehydration)
After getting an IV and a quart of water put in my blood im taken on the ambulance to the emergency room. I remember hearing an odd phrase, "you don't want to supernova like last time do you" Like last time?.. am I a star? Is there a quantum connection with my body on earth and a star in the universe? Hmm.. all I know is they were stabilizing my physical vessel and it felt good.
I heard a girl screaming in the curtain over. They were going to take her to salt lake city behavioral mental health. I wasn't sure if "she" was really there. But the pain in her voice was wrenching. I wanted to save her. It sounded like to her it was the worst place on earth. And she had been there before..
That's where I stayed for the next week.
A 40 min drive strapped to a gurney with a police officer. The same police officer that had assaulted me. Slamming my neck down on a gurney when I started asking questions about what was going on. When we got to the hospital, they told him to leave, and he become irate and cussed at them. Like... super weird Why was he even there? I didn't get a criminal charge.
That hospital was more like requiem of a dream. It was hell. I was an unconcious zombie the first two days because I was brought in with an iv already attached and they drugged me as we got on the elevator.
I literally started "coming too" and realizing I was walking around and being told to sit and watch TV, or shower, or walk to the mess hall for food. Very low, dark energy was here. I felt that the divine feminine was being.. extracted here. Was being raped. Maybe not literally.. but then again.. weird things were happening.
I was given several expired sleeping pills at night, but then was too paranoid to sleep, so I started going further into deliriums. Psychoactive compounds are the LAST thing you want to be taking when you're going through a spiritual awakening or transformation.
Two things led to my release. My dad was on the phone with the head doctor who did my intake. The call "ended" but my dad could still hear the dr. And he preceeded to talk down about my father to the other people in the room. Namely that he was an idiot. My father is a civil engineer and can talk circles around anyone. This enraged him.
Plus my mom is a nurse and asked for paperwork that layman's usually don't know about. And they crossed several ethical boundaries, especially since I had showed up after being in a deliurem from dehydration.
when she found out what they had done. She freaked out so hard on them that they finally released me. My parents had tried multiple times to release me or transfer me, but somehow, there was a bureaucratic process involved that thwarted their attempts. Which was weird because i was a minor and hadnt commited any crimes, was never charged with a crime. And my parents just wanted me at a closer facility. Not a state hospital that felt like a prison. My father said the insurance company NEVER got a bill for my week stay there. So.. definitely something sketchy going on. My mom thinks that for a day or two while I was there. There license had expired, and if they would of been hit with ANY type of lawsuit it would of ended really badly for them.
There's WAY too much to add to this post about everything I experienced. So feel free to ask more questions if you want more info.
After that hospital, I spent time with my father and outwardly acted Normal while inwardly I was still in wonderland. At one point I believed me and my father were in the spirit world and as we stopped to eat food, Our bodies on earth were still traveling in the car. I thought my father was God omnipotent, and he accidentaly made a copy of himself and i was disrupting his creation with my own power of creation. And I don't think him misprounouncing the medication I was given post hospital release, as "ability" instead of "abilify" helped with my delusions of granduer.
I also believed I was merging with the power and essence of God. And the Supreme God head. But i resisted. That weight was HEAVY. To be the source of all things, constantly? For everything? I didnt want it. But it felt like.. a mission was being thrust upon my shoulders.
Maybe you need to not want the power of kundalini to be worthy of it? (Like a king who doesn't want to be king usually makes the best kings!)
I saw a lot of weird multiverse stuff, (like parallel versions of myself) and things that I was pretty sure weren't real. Like a man wearing gloves, a hoody and a mask stand right next to me at the store and put a gallon of milk under his sweater.. like... that couldn't of been real. That's literal insane human behavior.
Now, concept of time didn't make any sense at all during this whole experience. I was living in the 4th or 5th dimension. I spent an eternity in an evening and another eternity in the morning.
I was functioning tho. I was working out so I would be tired, I was doing schoolwork packets. Helping my dad with his work. Its just.. sometimes i thought I needed to "pay" the old man sitting in the waiting lobby with prana energy in order to get the oil changed on my dads truck.
People that looked low on energy would "tap" their foot, really slowly. Like once every 2 seconds. Psychologically to me. It felt like a energetic tugging. And it was irritating. The moment I breathed energy through my being and projected it towards these people. They would just leave! Like.. they wouldn't interact with the cashier, or take a phone call. It was creepy. I don't think they were aware that they were in such desperate need for energy that they couldn't produce their own anymore.
Maybe I was delusion.. thats up to you dear reader. But this experience has been a one time occurrence. I've never had a repeat of these types of experiences. Yet... hopefully... but just maybe with more balance and control.
My parents got increasingly worried from me just acting strangely and decided I needed another hospital. This time a good one. There they took me off all medication and gave me melatonin for sleep.
I started to realize that I had a bunch of energy oscillating in my upper chakras. And needed to "ground it down". So I started doing breathwork and gounding yoga and meditation visualization.
And then boom
I was back. Full awareness of what had happened. What was erratic behavior and what was sane. Could differentiate between my own imagination/thoughts and objective reality. Had total logical functioning back. But had learned ALOT. About myself, being a human, the nature of well.. natural reality. That moment and for the next few weeks I have never ever felt so elated. I felt empowered, I was calm, yet very confident, clear headed, sharp witted, competent. I felt strong. I felt like a man. Well, I felt like a warrior of energy. A shaman king.
AFTERWARDS:
Since I would turn 18 in 3 months. About 10 "professionals" advised my parents that once I'm 18 they can no longer have me committed against my will. So they better do something with the time they have left..
luckily, my father asked me if i wanted to go to this residential facility. which I didn't. And he felt like it wouldn't be too helpful anyway. He was always a smart guy. But I relented because I felt.. it would make everyone feel better if I did. It could calm their FEAR. Anyway, I described the emotion as "leaving a beautiful cabin in the woods, to go on long perilous journey across a vast valley while the sky darkens overhead."
I spent 3 months in a residential facility (polar opposite of the wilderness camp) they sucked the very soul out of me. I regressed emotionally back to age 13, came out of there suicidal af, bottled with hurt and anger. Extremely depressed, numb. Low self esteem. Low self worth. Zero will power, little motivation. Life was grey again. Life was.... a drag barely worth living.
All the beautiful things I had learned. I could no longer comprehend. I could understand them as intellectual concepts (like be here now, love vs fear etc etc). But I no longer embodied them. Things got so bad, even my hand eye coordination was lost while I was in that facility. I have a natural talent for sports and healthy competition. But there i would stumble over my own feet during "excersise" time.
I was attacked emotionally for being inauthentic because I told the truth from day one and let myself be vulnerable. But all the kids that go there literally are forced against their will. They wake up in their bed with 2 macho men ready to escort them to the facility. So when I show up and bare my soul raw to them faults and all. Attempting to use this 3 months to actually further my growth They accuse me of lying and manipulating them. Which just caused me to shut down more and more.
That place taught me a great deal about how to not give up your power, but also, what the true cost is if you do.
EPILOGUE?
So anyway, my life has been rocky since then.. Almost every year since then. With highs and lows. Happiness and depression. Its almost been like I had intense bi polar but each episode would last several months at a time.
I never hurt anyone, never became violent or threatening, but through all this I learned one thing. My happiness is like fire, and it scares people. Mostly to those who don't want to look at their own illusions, and so desperately try to control me so I don't shatter my own.
I've gone through ALOT of healing. Delved Deep into the pain in my heart and just held that space.
This August/September will be my 9th year anniversary of this experience. I've been waiting for another spontaneous like thrusting of kundalini power, and I've been doubtful. Is it really worth the practice? I had friend claim to go into a psychosis purely from sexual transmutation. It's been over a year and he still feels like he hasn't recovered.
But I didn't need to recover from the psychosis. I only needed to recover from the mental abuse I suffered while in the residential facility. Took about 4 months until I was sort of close to where I was at anasazi. But I've NEVER felt as amazing as I did those few weeks after the 2nd hospital. It felt like a victory.
I don't believe I was just "crazy" because its not a chronic issue I deal with. I've never full blown hallucinated like that, no auditory ones either. Plus I've taken WAY more psychadelics. And a bunch of different kinds too. So its not that my mind is unstable.
I either opened ajna, or stirred kundalini or both.
Either way, I travelled the Astral realm while embodied and found my way back.
Sometimes I get super interested in trying to raise kundalini because whatever this process is, it doesn't feel complete. It feels.. like the process got halted. Got sidetracked, was sabatoged. Or thwarted by bad energy or environments
But I'm not obsessive about it. I just want change. I want my life to change. But I also want myself to change. It seems.. i change constantly, but yet, I'm always stuck in the same nature. I keep trying to overide my nature, be the captain of my vessel but then I get stuck in the same ruts. Idk if kundalini will help with that. But its a struggle dealing with myself because well.. I'm stubborn hahaha.
I've tried sleep hypnosis, NLP, affirmations, breathwork, juice feasts, mantra's, etc and I'm just not having then "thing" occur. Its frustrating.
I don't really have a question. Just looking for an answer idk how to ask. This event is on my mind quite a bit. Its just.. so odd. So unusual. Especially to western ideaology.
My experience greatly resembles kundalini psychosis. Definitely what can happen when a novice plays with advanced esoterics. But what's next? Is my damaged kundalini experience just that? Damaged? Could it possibly been a vision of when I will have a complete kundalini rising in the future?
TL;DR I delved into esoteric and spirituality at a very young age. And later used tried to use shortcuts to act as a catalyst for my spiritual growth, went into a clinical psychosis for 30 days which I believe was more so a spirit voyage. Yet resulted in several hospitalizations and a near death experience from exposure/dehydration. Came back to reality, never had another similar episode, and this fall will be the 9 year anniversary.

PART 1
Hello. I am happy to say that my previous post already started to help. In my inebriated state, I forgot to mention a very important detail that could save lives. The organization does not kill everything that is supernatural. We only kill those that want to harm humans. We have centers of operation all around the world, in which we train the ones that seek refuge to lead a life as close as possible to normal. I will not say what happened in respect to that person, but a lot of lives were saved.
Today I want to tell the story of my first hunt in which I returned with fewer men than we first went. I was 20 and due to the nature of my line of work I taught, I was invincible. Being a hunter for 5 years already I taught that I’ve seen it all, bud god, how wrong I was.
Me and two guys from the organization were to go hunt what was reported to be a lonely Wendigo that set its hunting ground in the north of Minnesota in Pine Island State Forest. We got equipped accordingly with silver and bronze bullets filled with holy water, ash wood ash and ricin, silver knives and around 20 silver boxes, just to be prepared in case there is more than one. At that time I wasn’t a part of the organization yet, I was just a helper so I didn’t have aces to the information these guys had.
We arrived at the place and set up camp, which consisted of our tents put in a circle, inside being a fire so big that it could be seen from the moon. That camp was impossible to enter for a Wendigo and we were relaxed, as it was fairly easy to hunt. Besides the strength of the beast and its shrieks for help it didn’t have a tactic, it was pure instinct and that is why we would first let it know about our presence, so it gets driven by hunger and is at its weakest point.
The night was nice, a bit cold but nice. We had a bottle of good ol Jack that we were passing around and we were smoking like chimneys. We shot a few normal rounds in the trees so that we seemed to be just stupid and drunk hunters who were there for a moose. What we didn’t realize was that even though we did make enough noise to be heard by fucking aliens we didn’t see green eyes in the forest and we didn’t hear any cries for help, which was very worrying, as we could hear movement in the brush.
In the morning we were to scout the terrain around us and draw the Anasazi symbols around our camp, and so we did, but we saw something strange: the hunting grounds of an apex predator such as a Wendigo are littered with the corpses of animals and are very quiet, but the forest around us was brimming with life, I mean all the Cinderella bullshit with birds singing and squirrels running around the trees. The scouting is done by the protocol in pairs, but since we were three the senior hunter in our group, Mike was alone. We were on radio comms all the time, so we never lost contact with him, but we heard something odd about halfway in, Mike screamed in pain for about a second then he went silent. That was the moment we realized that we were not after a Wendigo. They never hunt during daytime and never kill so quickly, a Wendigo eats its prey alive, and the torture lasts for about half an hour before you die.
We ran to the location the GPS was showing us and found Mike. He looked normal, but at a closer look, he was the opposite of a human being. The once energetic, humorous and happy man was now like a blank sheet of paper. He had no personality and walked like he just ran a marathon, his limbs moving in directions that couldn’t be achieved by a contortionist. When I asked that thing what it was doing it said that it was mapping the ground, but the body was moving back the way Mike already scanned. I would have shot it right then and there, but I realized something, it didn’t know that we knew, so I said that we finished the scout and that we should walk back to camp.
The walk was tense, I always watched the thing, and with every step, it got better at walking. When we were at the camp the thing was walking better than Mike, who had a slight limp. I told the thing that me and Alex had to go to the car to take some more gear and that we will be back in an hour. It protested, but I convinced it that it needed to stay there. The whole hike to the car we felt watched, but nothing happened.
When we got to the car we realized that the gas tank was broken and we didn’t have any fuel, so I entered the car with Alex and put the music to the highest volume. Before I managed to say anything Alex said: “You know too, don’t you” I nodded and said “How do we kill it, it’s not a Wendigo”; “I don’t know, but we aren’t getting out of here.” I again nodded.
After the conversation, I looked at the GPS to see how far we are from the closest town, but when I looked my blood froze. When you work with the organization they implant a small capsule containing a GPS in your skin, and the GPS was showing Mike moving from the camp towards us with inhuman speed I showed it to Alex and he looked petrified as well. The marker stopped 50 meters from us.
We pretended not to notice and took some items from the car then headed to the camp while glancing at the GPS every so often. Mike was following us back, and when we were 200 meters away from camp I saw him on the GPS practically teleporting in his tent. That night was awfull, every time I was about to fall asleep a shriek would rip trough the air jolting me fully awake. That was when I knew it was playing a long game of exhaustion. It was waiting until I was too weak to defend myself, and only then it would feast.
I planned to wait until morning to go and fill it with bullets but all our guns were missing, except for the tranc guns. I went to Alex’s tent to let him know what was happening, but his tent was empty. Then I heard from behind Mike’s voice: “He went for some wood”. I decided to wait for him to return, in case I could save him but deep down I knew I was the only one alive. When Alex came he was just like Mike: no personality, no energy and walking in a very jerky manner.
I prepared myself mentally and shot them both with the tranc gun. They went down seizing instantly, after that I ran, I ran as fast as I could to the town that was 6 miles away. After 4 miles I consulted the GPS and saw both Mike and Alex run at inhuman speeds towards me. I ditched everything that was not vital, keeping only my water bottle and the tranc gun. I ran as fast as I could, hearing the ‘woooosh’ sound the trees made as I ran past them. I was half a mile away from the town when I heard it, high pitch shrieks coming from behind me, about a quarter-mile away. I wasn’t going to make it. I did one desperate move, turning to face the things. I shot the last dart and put the knife in front of my chest. The thing that took Alex collapsed to the ground from the dart and Mike’s face was half an inch away from mine, grinning with a sea of needle-like rotting teeth.
When I got in town I immediately called the organization and told them the story all this while watching the GPS. I had the impression that Alex and Mike moved slightly, but I chalked it up to exhaustion. When the guys showed up to the place I last saw the creatures they only found Alex’s and Mike’s skin, and nothing else.
Now I know that the creatures were Fleshgaits. If you run into one while hiking or camping the best thing you can do us kill yourself in a swift way. It is better than the alternative.
See you next time.
PART 3

Artifact Creation Idea: The Hallows (Like the Grail)
Some artifacts are so powerful they have their own destiny and mission, often using the player characters more than they use it.
The Hallows are one such example, powerful artifacts representing such archtypes as the elements, the directions, immortalized in our Tarot decks and even a common set of cards.
The Heart represents the Grail, the Club represents the Spear or Wand, the Spade represents the Sword, and the Diamond represents the Stone or Coin.
The Grail was immortalized in modern culture by The Raiders series with Indiana Jones (Harrison Ford) but such artifacts are archtypes, representatives of all things of that sort, so the Grail represents all cups and might manifest at any time in any cup or object of cup-like nature, or wider, perhaps, on plates, bowls, containers like the Cornucopia, the horn of Amalthia, the Earth Mother incarnation that fed both Pan (her child by Kronos, yes, he was a horny goat) and Gaia (Earth Mother) and Kronos, the horn once taken from Amalthia could produce endless food, much like the Grail was said to do. A similar thing is done with the Cat Lord, who represents all cats and other beings like him.
However, this article isn’t about the actual Hallow (one of four). It’s about the tools you need to create such an artifact and we have that already in the never ending correspondence speculation in the New Age Community.
Shown here are some ideas for each of the Hallows, some rituals, chants, connected things, and using these you should be able to create your own version of these powerful archtypes to fit your campaign story arcs and themes.
No one player can control such an artifact/being. It at best allies itself with the use of a certain person of appropriate nature and might very well kill those unworthy of it who attempt to control or use it. Destroying it is a fool’s errand as they simply exist on an entirely different plane of existence, a plane alien to the PC’s understanding or control or even visiting.
The Elements
All hail the Guardians of the Watchtower of the East, thou gentle sprites and airy sylphs, soaring eagle and sweet butterfly, Morning Star, Master of the Eastern Dawn, be with us in laugher and in thought, bring us the bracing dawn wind and memories of fragrant spring. I do summon. stir, and call thee up. Come, be welcome in this our rite. Blessed Be!
All hail the Guardians of the Watchtower of the South, thou leaping salamaders and fiery ones, lion in passion and dragon in power, phoenix arising pure and whole from the flames. Isis, Queen of the Southern noontime, be with us in passion and in truth, bring us the warmth of the hearthfire, and the summer sun, and the clear sight of noonday. I do summon, stir and call you up. Come, be welcome in this our rite. Blessed Be!
All hail the Guardians of the Watchtoer of the West, thou deep dwelling undines and swift flowing naiads, loving dolphin and hidden eel, Evening Star, Western Mother of the twilight, be with us in feeling and in vision, in the evening tide's mystery and the updwelling autumn dreams. I do summon, stir and call you up. Come, be welcome in this our rite. Blessed Be!
All hail the Guardians of the Watchtower of the North, thou gnomes and dwarves of deep within the earth, and oreads of the mountain forest, bear slow and sure and bull of great strength, tunneling worms whose work insures life, Osiris, King of the Northern Nights and ruler of the Earth, here at the dwelling place of the gods, be with us in solid strength and permanence. I do summon, stir, and call you up. Come, be welcome in this our rite. Blessed Be!
The four elements of magic are Earth, Air, Fire and Water.
Something to represent each of them is present in the Circle when a spell is cast.
This is usually:
salt - Earth
incense - Air
candles or lit incense - Fire
water - Water
These are represented in the Tarot in several of the cards and by the suits.
THE ELEMENTS
Sacred to Shakti
There is more in this world than meets the eye, and Elementals fall into that category. Have you ever been transfixed with fascination as you watched fire burning a building or a forest? Have you ever stood on a high balcony or at the edge of a precipice and felt the sudden, unaccountable urge to throw yourself from it? If so, you have experienced something of the power of Elementals.
SPIRIT/ETHER
Some traditions count Spirit, or Ether, as a fifth element
COLOR: clear
INVOCATIONS:
Goddesses: Isis - Shekinah - the Great Goddess
Gods: Akasha - Shiva, Lord of Yoga - Siva
PLANT: almond tree in bloom - mastic incense - mistletoe
ANIMAL: Sphinx
THE STONE OR COIN OR DIAMOND:
EARTH
PLANET: Earth
DIRECTION: North
SEASON: Winter
TIME: Midnight
QUALITY: feminine
TOOL: pentacle
SYMBOL: globe - orb - rocks - cornucopia - soil
JEWEL: salt - rock crystal - agate - bloodstone - smoky quartz - tiger's eye
ZODIAC: Taurus (Fixed Earth) - Virgo (Mutable Earth) - Capricorn (Cardinal Earth)
COLOR: black - brown - green
RULES: life - birth - growth - nature - money - food - prosperity - silence - wisdom - agriculture - creativity - canyons - caverns - chasms - rocks - earthquakes - mountains - caves - metals - crystals - matter - stability - strength - trees - bones - mountains - the body - physical reality - standing stones - the sense of touch - the ability of life to sustain itself
FOR: money spells - rock magic - fertility
PLANT: barley - comfrey - grain - hops - ivy - maize (corn) - licorice - millet - oak - oats - rice - rye - wheat
ANIMAL: bull - cow - bison - stag - earth-dwelling snakes
Anyone who doubts the power of Earth has never been in an earthquake or experienced aftershocks.
INVOCATIONS: dryads - gnomes - hamadryads - the sidhe - sylvan spirits - tree spirits
Goddesses:
agriculture goddesses - Anat - Anu - Artemis - Ceres - Coatlicue, the Serpent Lady - Cybele - Mater - Dana - Danaan - Danu - Delphine - Demeter, Queen of the Fruitful Earth - Durga - Erana - Estsanatlehi, Changing Woman - Eve, Mother of All Living, She Who Makes Live - Fatua - Fauna - Flora - Gaea - Gaia, Mother of Life - grain goddesses - the Great Goddess - the Great Mother - Hecate - Earth Mother - Inanna - Isis - Ki, the Great One - Kore - Kundalini - Kybele - Maat Maia - Mala - Mama Pacha - Medea - Mother Nature - Mud-Earth Lady - Nana - Nephthys - the Oreads - Pandora - Parvati - Persephone - Pomona - Prthivi, Earth Mother - Prosperine - Rhea - Rhiannon - Sati - Semele - the Seven Mothers - Sheela Na Gig - Sif - Sita - Sphinx -Tailtiu - Terra - Terra Mater - Tiamat -Tlazolteotl -
Gods:
Achilles - Adonis - Arawn - Ariel - Armaiti - Athos - Athtar, King of Earth - Atlas - Attis - Atune - Baal, Lord of Earth - Bacchus - Cernunnos - Dagan - the Dagda - Dhara - Dionysus Gabriel - Geb - the Green Man - Green Zeus - Hades - Hercules - Himalaya - Indra - Keb - Marduk - Meilichios - Osiris, the Lord of Everlastingness - Pan Robin Hood - Seb - Silenus - Tlaltecuhtli, the Lord of Earth - Tork - Uriel - Yahweh - Zeus
THE SPEAR OR WAND OR STAFF OR CLUB:
AIR
TIME: Dawn
SEASON: Spring
QUALITY: sanguine - masculine
DIRECTION: East
JEWEL: topaz
TOOL: athame - sword - censer
ZODIAC: Gemini (Mutable Air) - Libra (Cardinal Air) - Aquarius (Fixed Air)
COLOR: pastels - white - clear - pale blue - bright yellow
SYMBOL: incense - feathers - balloons - bubbles - kites - windmills
PLANT: anemone (windflower) - aspen - frankincense 0incense plants - myrrh - pansy - poplar - primrose - vervain - violet - wall fern (polypody) - yarrow
ANIMAL: birds - insects - eagle - hawk
RULES: thoughts - ideas - flight - knowledge - wisdom - time - wind - breath - learning - intuition - towers - aeries - incense - high and windy places - the mind - the abstract - the mental plane - psychic work - the sense of smell
INVOCATIONS: djinn - fairies - wind spirits - sylphs - sprites -The Keeper of Time
Goddesses:
Aeropë - Aphrodite - Aradia - Arianrhod, the Silver Wheel - Cybele - Delphine - Dia - Hathor - Hera - Holy Spirit - Ilmatar - Iris - Lilith Maiden - Mist - Morgen - Mut - Nuit - Nut, the Lady of Heaven, the Mighty One of Valor - Oya - the Star Goddess - Sphinx - Urania, the Heavenly One
Gods:
Amun, the Invisible One - Anu - Ariel - Boreas - Gabriel - Horus - Indra - Jupiter - Mercury - Michael - Notus - Orion - Pavana - Peron - Quetzalcoatl - Raka - Shu, the Dry - White Texcatlipoca - Thoth - Uranus - Zephyr - Zephyrus - Zeus
For wind spells:
Boreas, for wind from the north - Eurus, for wind from the east - Notus, for wind from the south - Zephyr, for wind from the west
To raise a wind, whistle three times in honor of the White Goddess.
"blow blow little breeze,
and cool my face
till my work is finished
and I rest in my place"
White clay whistles were used to summon winds in Majorca, Spain.
THE SWORD OR SPADE
FIRE
"O! For a muse of fire that would ascend the brightest heaven of invention." -Shakespeare
PLANET: Sun
SYMBOL: solar wheel (fire wheel, swastika) - candle
SEASON: Summer
TIME: Noon
DIRECTION: South
QUALITY: masculine
TOOL: censer - wand
JEWEL: fire opal - pyrite (firestone) - fire garnet
COLOR: red - gold - crimson - orange - white
ZODIAC: Aries (Cardinal Fire) - Leo (Fixed Fire) - Sagittarius (Mutable Fire)
RULES: energy - activity - motivation - sight - love - quickening - blood - sap - spirit - purification - heat - flames - lust - life - the power of will - enthusiasm - passion - inspiration - transformation - vitality - sexuality - leadership - combustion - healing - volcanos - destruction - brush fires - authority - metalwork - incandescence - deserts - eruptions - explosions - anger - the masculine
FOR: purification - fire spells - sex magic - healing, to destroy disease - candle magic
PLANTS: alder - almond tree in bloom - fire thorn - flame tree - frankincense - garlic - hibiscus - mustard - nettles - onion - hot peppers - red poppy - rose
ANIMALS: phoenix - salamander - lion - snake - fire-breathing dragons - horses, when their hooves strike sparks
INVOCATIONS: djinn - the Manes - Salamander
Goddesses:
Anasazi - Astarte - Bast - Bastet - Bride - Brighid, Lady of the Hearth - Brigid - Brigit, the High One - Coyolxauhqui, Golden Bells - Fuji - Hestia - Ishtar - Kali - Minerva Belisima - Pele - Pyrrha, the Red One - Sekhmet - St. Brigit - Ubastet - Vesta, the Shining One
Invoke fire goddesses by throwing salt into flames
Gods:
Ariel - Baal - Bel - Hephaestus - Horus, the Mighty One of Transformations - Michael - Prometheus, who stole fire - Raphael - Salamander - Seraph - Shiva, the Great Lord Siva - Surya - Uriel, Flame of God - Vishnu, the All-Pervading - Vulcan - Will-o' the Wisp - Xango
Fire of Azrael, used to see into the past or into past lives, is kindled of cedar, juniper and sandalwood.
The ancient fire festivals were sun charms. A burning fire wheel represents the course of the sun through the sky. Midsummer fire was considered the fire of heaven.
In Ireland, coals from the bonfires of the fire festivals were carried into the grain fields as a charm against blight.
THE GRAIL OR HEART:
WATER
PLANET: Moon - Neptune
DIRECTION: West
COLOR: blue - black - green
QUALITY: feminine
TIME: twilight
TOOL: chalice
ZODIAC: Cancer (Cardinal Water) - Scorpio (Fixed Water) - Pisces (Mutable Water)
JEWEL: coral - mother-of-pearl - pearl
SYMBOL: goblet - dowsing rod - wave
RULES: emotions - fertility - sensuality - intuition - sorrow - compassion - receptivity - feelings - tides - love - ecstasy - courage - mystery - daring - oceans, rivers, streams, springs, wells, lakes, waterfalls, ponds and pools - marine life - psychic ability - the feminine - the sense of taste - the unconscious - the subconscious - the womb - blood
Pooled water represents the occult realm
It is said that magick, magicians and witches cannot cross running water. I haven't found this to be true.
PLANTS: aquatic plants - ferns - fungi - lotus - moss - myrrh incense - reeds - rushes - seaweed - watercress - water lily - willow
ANIMAL: amphibians - fish - marine life - marine mammals - water-dwelling snakes - whales
FOR: healing - purification - psychic work - fertility - rain
INVOCATIONS: mermaids/mermen - Kelpie - undines
Goddesses:
Amathaon - Amphitrite, Goddess of Salt Waters - Andromeda - Artemis - Astarte - Brahmi - Brigantia - Cerridwen - Ceto - Chalchihuitlcue, Precious Green Lady - Deva - Hydra - Ishtar - Isis - Lady of the Lake - Leucothea, who saves sailors from shipwreck - Leviathan - Mari - Maria - Marica - Mariamne, the Sea Lamb - Marian - Marina - Minerva, for navigation - Miria, the Wonderful - Miriam, Sea Brine - Myrrha - the Naiads - the Nereids - the Oceanids - Prithivi - Sabrina - Sarasvati, Flowing Water - Sati - Sedna - the sirens - Stella Maris, Star of the Sea - Sul - Tefnut, Dew of Dawn, Goddess of Moisture - Thetis - Ti'amat - Yemaja - Yemaya, Mother of the Fishes - Yemonja - Zeuxippe
Gods:
Aegir - Akelos - Amaunet - Amun - Ariel - Azariel - Ba'al - Gabriel - Ganymede - Great Rainbow Snake - Kelpie - Lear - Leir - Lir - Llyr - Llud - Ludd - Manannán Mac Lir - Manawyddan ap Llyr - Mannan mac Lir - Mbongo - Michael - Neptune - Nereus, the Old Man of the Sea - Njord - Ocean - Oceanus - Ogir - Osiris of the Mysteries, who springs from the returning waters - Poseidon - Proteus - Ptah - Raphael - Thoth, Cleaner of Earth - Tiberinus - Triton - Typhon
For: rain:
Invoke:
the Hyades, Rain Makers - Inanna - Iuturna, to end drought - Libya, Dripping Rain - Tefnut - Yemana, Holy Queen - Frey, God of Rain - Indra - Lung-Wang, the Dragon Kings - Tlaloc
Plant: cotton - ferns - rice - toadstools
Sympathetic magic (imitation) is used to make rain. This can take many forms, such as beating two things together to mimic thunder. Hercules rattled his club in a hollow tree, or stirred a pool with an oak branch to make rain.
The Danaids, priestesses of Demeter at Argos, made rain by pouring water through a vessel with holes in it.
sea rituals:
Invoke: ocean deities
Plant: ash - frankincense - sea kelp
This is the basis for an epic quest with a goal that reflects a piece of reality and should be reflected on before adding it except as an esoteric idea for the players to ponder.
Unless handled delicately, such an item can make the players feel used.
Think if it like the very worst villain and greatest hero, and something alien and hard to even begin to comprehend influencing and changing the story.
Have fun.

I am having a bear of a time trying to install Trilinos and its dependencies on Ubuntu to run in parallel, not sure why.   Here is my configure file:  

! /bin/bash

sudo rm -r -f CMakeCache.txt CMakeFiles/

-D MPI_BASE_DIR:PATH="/uslocal/openmpi/" \

-D HDF5_INCLUDE_DIRS:PATH="/uslocal/hdf5/include" \

-D HDF5_LIBRARY_DIRS:PATH="/uslocal/hdf5/lib" \

-D Netcdf_INCLUDE_DIRS:PATH=/uslocal/netcdf/include \

-D Netcdf_LIBRARY_DIRS:PATH=/uslocal/netcdf/lib \

-D Boost_INCLUDE_DIRS:PATH=/uslocal/boost/include \

-D Boost_LIBRARY_DIRS:PATH=/uslocal/boost/lib \

cmake \ -D CMAKE_BUILD_TYPE:STRING=RELEASE \ -DCMAKE_C_COMPILER=/usbin/mpicc \ -DCMAKE_CXX_COMPILER=/usbin/mpicxx \ -DCMAKE_Fortran_COMPILER=/usbin/mpif90 \ -D Trilinos_WARNINGS_AS_ERRORS_FLAGS:STRING="" \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_ALL_PACKAGES:BOOL=OFF \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Teuchos:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Shards:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Sacado:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Epetra:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_EpetraExt:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Ifpack:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_AztecOO:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Amesos:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Anasazi:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Belos:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_ML:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Phalanx:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Intrepid:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_NOX:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Stratimikos:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Thyra:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Rythmos:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_MOOCHO:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_TriKota:BOOL=OFF \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Stokhos:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Zoltan:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Piro:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Teko:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_SEACASIoss:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_SEACAS:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_SEACASBlot:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_Pamgen:BOOL=ON \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_EXAMPLES:BOOL=OFF \ -D Trilinos_ENABLE_TESTS:BOOL=ON \ -D TPL_ENABLE_HDF5:BOOL=ON \ -D HDF5_INCLUDE_DIRS=/usinclude/hdf5 \ -D HDF5_INCLUDE_LIB=/uslib/x86_64-linux-gnu/hdf5/mpich \ -D Matio_LIBRARY_DIRS=/uslib/x86_64-linux-gnu \ -D Matio_LIBRARIES=/uslib/x86_64-linux-gnu/libmatio.a \ -D TPL_ENABLE_Netcdf:BOOL=ON \ -D TPL_Netcdf_Enables_Netcdf4:BOOL=ON \ -D TPL_ENABLE_MPI:BOOL=ON \ -D TPL_ENABLE_BLAS:BOOL=ON \ -D TPL_ENABLE_LAPACK:BOOL=ON \ -D TPL_ENABLE_Boost:BOOL=ON \ -D CMAKE_VERBOSE_MAKEFILE:BOOL=OFF \ -D Trilinos_VERBOSE_CONFIGURE:BOOL=OFF \ -D X11_LIBRARY_DIRS=/uslib/X11 \ -D TPL_X11_INCLUDE_DIRS=/usinclude/X11 \ -D TPL_Netcdf_PARALLEL:BOOL=ON \ -D SEACAS_ENABLE_TESTS=ON \ ..

   
Here is the tail end of the output, seems it can't find X11, even though I specified where its libraries and include was...    
Processing enabled TPL: X11 (enabled by SEACASSVDI, disable with -DTPL_ENABLE_X11=OFF) -- X11_LIBRARY_NAMES='X11' -- Searching for libs in X11_LIBRARY_DIRS='/uslib/X11' -- Searching for a lib in the set "X11": -- Searching for lib 'X11' ... -- NOTE: Did not find a lib in the lib set "X11" for the TPL 'X11'! -- ERROR: Could not find the libraries for the TPL 'X11'! -- TIP: If the TPL 'X11' is on your system then you can set: -DX11_LIBRARY_DIRS=';;...' to point to the directories where these libraries may be found. Or, just set: -DTPL_X11_LIBRARIES=';;...' to point to the full paths for the libraries which will bypass any search for libraries and these libraries will be used without question in the build. (But this will result in a build-time error if not all of the necessary symbols are found.) -- ERROR: Failed finding all of the parts of TPL 'X11' (see above), Aborting!
-- NOTE: The find module file for this failed TPL 'X11' is: /home/charles/Documents/code/Trilinos/cmake/TPLs/FindTPLX11.cmake which is pointed to in the file: /home/charles/Documents/code/Trilinos/TPLsList.cmake
TIP: One way to get past the configure failure for the TPL 'X11' is to simply disable it with: -DTPL_ENABLE_X11=OFF which will disable it and will recursively disable all of the downstream packages that have required dependencies on it, including the package 'SEACASSVDI' which triggered its enable. When you reconfigure, just grep the cmake stdout for 'X11' and then follow the disables that occur as a result to see what impact this TPL disable has on the configuration of Trilinos.
CMake Error at cmake/tribits/core/package_arch/TribitsProcessEnabledTpl.cmake:127 (MESSAGE): ERROR: TPL_X11_NOT_FOUND=TRUE, aborting! Call Stack (most recent call first): cmake/tribits/core/package_arch/TribitsGlobalMacros.cmake:1659 (TRIBITS_PROCESS_ENABLED_TPL) cmake/tribits/core/package_arch/TribitsProjectImpl.cmake:202 (TRIBITS_PROCESS_ENABLED_TPLS) cmake/tribits/core/package_arch/TribitsProject.cmake:93 (TRIBITS_PROJECT_IMPL) CMakeLists.txt:93 (TRIBITS_PROJECT)
-- Configuring incomplete, errors occurred!
 
Thanks for reading!

Like a lot of people, I’ve been skeptical about the inclusion of Native American civilizations in the game, but I’ve been trying to remain consistent with my reasoning. That and conversations with other fans have helped me to be more open to the idea of their inclusion.
These are some of the common objections that I’ve had and that I have heard from others – I figured since most of us here are fans of history, it would be interesting to look at it for that reason if nothing else:
“They would be too weak to be realistic”
This was kind of noticeable in aoe3, with the warchiefs expansion, because the civs in that game are very distinct from one another in design – so within the balance that existed, you needed to have ‘war canoes’ that were so strong that a few volleys of arrows would sink a frigate… which is kind of silly.
This isn’t as much of a problem in aoe2 because all the civs are more or less designed on the same template, with some changes in tech tree, unique techs and unique units. We know more than enough about native american tribes and cultures to design a civ in that way – to come up with a unique unit and unique techs and so on.
“It would be anachronistic to add Native American tribes”
The 3 groups that people tend to bring up as viable for the game are the Iroquois, the Mississippi, and the Anasazi. Assuming the timespan is ~500ad to ~1500ad, all three would fit – all three controlled large swathes of territory, built cities, and engaged in trade and warfare, within that timeframe.
The Iroquois would be the biggest stretch of the three, but even they had been a unified league since the 1300s, with fortified towns and longhouses – and there is evidence of their buildings and settlements dating back to the 1100s.
The Mississippi have been around for much longer than that – their main city Cahokia dates to the 700s, and the city lasted until the 1400s. The broader civilization lasted until the 1500s when diseases from the Spanish devastated them :(
The Anasazi have been around even longer, and have buildings and settlements going all the way back to 550ad. They were also around for centuries, before encountering the Spanish in the 1500s and alternately cooperating with them and fighting them.
“They didn’t have any buildings, how would you design architecture for them?”
This one is funny because

1. The Huns and Mongols are in the game, and neither of them had monumental architecture either: the Mongols’ wonder is a giant fictional tent and the Huns’ wonder is ‘symbolic’ of their victory over Rome, rather than any architectural achievement of theirs (cause there isn’t any). Not having architecture hasn’t been a reason to not include a civ.
   
2. Those big three that were mentioned (Mississippi, Anasazi, and Iroquois) certainly had famous examples of architecture. The Iroquois architecture has already been featured in aoe3. The Mississippi were famous builders, with large fortified cities and earthen mound temples. There’s an old pic from the concept artist for Forgotten Empires, showing what a Mississippian architecture set might look like. The Anasazi architecture is quite different from the other two, since it’s more desert based – mud and clay bricks, like the African and Mideastern architecture. There’s hundreds of examples of their ability to construct houses and palace complexes, but the most interesting are Mesa Verde and Pueblo Bonito – especially the latter, in how it’s designed. Pueblo Bonito seems like the perfect structure for a Wonder.
   

“They didn’t interact with any of the other civs in the game, which all the other civs up till now have; that makes it harder to justify their inclusion or to design campaigns for them.”
I think that is the most reasonable argument, since the basis of the game is in the civs interacting with each other. Of course no one seems to mind that the medieval Celts never interacted with the Japanese – as long as a civ interacted with other civs that somewhere along the chain interacted with the other civ, we don’t seem to mind. Similarly es justified their inclusion of Aztecs and Mayans with their inclusion of the Spanish – that sort of connected the old world civs with the new world civs.
In that regard, I’ve already mentioned that the Mississippi and Anasazi interacted with the Spanish. It isn’t much of a stretch to say that the “Skraelings” that the Vikings fought were the Iroquois. The Anasazi traded and interacted with Central American civilizations like the Maya. Finally, if we interpret those three North American cultures broadly, they of course interacted with each other – there’s centuries of oral tradition about the wars and battles between different people in North America.
Making campaigns with these civs is an even easier question since, again, there are so many legends and stories that these cultures have that are shared and documented today. For eg one campaign could be about the Peacemaker, uniting the five nations to become the Iroquois League.
If theres any objections or arguments I’ve overlooked let me know. In general, I'm curious if y'all will agree or disagree.
Cool links:
http://www.newworldencyclopedia.org/entry/Iroquois
http://www.tolatsga.org/iro.html
http://www.crystalinks.com/iroquois.html
http://www.ancient.eu/cahokia/
https://www.nps.gov/meve/learn/education/upload/ancestral_puebloans.pdf
(Edit: formatting)

Overview

Name and Origin: "New Mexico"; from the Spanish name for lands north of the Rio Grande, "Nuevo México". "México" comes from the Nahuatl (Aztec) word "Mēxihca", for the people who founded the city of Tenochtitlan.
Flag: Flag of the State of New Mexico
Map: New Mexico County Map
Nickname(s): The Land of Enchantment
Demonym(s): New Mexican
Abbreviation: NM
Motto: "Crescit eundo"; Latin for "It grows as it goes".
Prior to Statehood: New Mexico Territory
Admission to the Union: January 6, 1912 (47th)
Population: 2,085,109 (36th)
Population Density: 17.2/sq mi (45th)
Electoral College Votes: 5
Area: 121,589 sq mi (5th)
Sovereign States Similar in Size: Oman (119,500 sq mi), Poland (120,726 sq mi), Ivory Coast (124,504 sq mi)
State Capital: Santa Fe
Largest Cities (by population in latest census)

Rank	City	County/Counties	Population
1	Albuquerque	Bernalillo County	545,852
2	Las Cruces	Doña Ana County	97,618
3	Rio Rancho	Bernalillo County, Sandoval County	87,521
4	Santa Fe	Santa Fe County	67,947
5	Roswell	Chaves County	48,366

Borders: Colorado [N], Oklahoma [NE], Texas [E], Chihuahua (Mexico) [S], Sonora (Mexico) [SW], Arizona [W]
Subreddit: /NewMexico

Government

Governor: Susana Martinez (R)
Lieutenant Governor: John Sanchez (R)
U.S. Senators: Tom Udall (D), Martin Heinrich (D)
U.S. House Delegation: 3 Representatives 2 Democrat, 1 Republican
New Mexico Legislature
Senators: 42 26 Democrat, 16 Republican
President Pro Tempore of the Senate: Mary Kay Papen (D)
Representatives: 70 38 Democrat, 32 Republican
Speaker of the House: Brian Egolf (D)

Presidential Election Results (since 1980, most recent first)

Year	Democratic Nominee	Republican Nominee	State Winner (%)	Election Winner	Notes
2016	Hillary Clinton	Donald Trump	Hillary Clinton (48.2%)	Donald Trump	Libertarian Party Candidate Gary Johnson won 9.3% of the New Mexico vote. Home state of Gary Johnson.
2012	Barack Obama	Mitt Romney	Barack Obama (52.99%)	Barack Obama	Libertarian Party Candidate Gary Johnson won 3.55% of the New Mexico vote. Home state of Gary Johnson.
2008	Barack Obama	John McCain	Barack Obama (56.91%)	Barack Obama
2004	John Kerry	George W. Bush	George W. Bush (49.84%)	George W. Bush	Bush wins by a 0.79% margin. Last time New Mexico votes Republican.
2000	Al Gore	George W. Bush	Al Gore (47.91%)	George W. Bush	Green Party Candidate Ralph Nader won 3.6% of the New Mexico vote. Gore wins by a margin less than 0.1% at 366 votes.
1996	Bill Clinton	Bob Dole	Bill Clinton (49.2%)	Bill Clinton	Reform Party Candidate Ross Perot won 5.8% of the New Mexico vote. Green Party Candidate Ralph Nader won 2.38% of the New Mexico vote.
1992	Bill Clinton	George H.W. Bush	Bill Clinton (45.9%)	Bill Clinton	Independent Candidate Ross Perot won 16.1% of the New Mexico vote. First time (since 1964) New Mexico votes Democrat.
1988	Michael Dukakis	George H.W. Bush	George H.W. Bush (51.86%)	George H.W. Bush
1984	Walter Mondale	Ronald Reagan	Ronald Reagan (59.7%)	Ronald Reagan
1980	Jimmy Carter	Ronald Reagan	Ronald Reagan (54.9%)	Ronald Reagan	Independent Candidate John B. Anderson won 6.5% of the New Mexico vote.

Demographics

Racial Composition:

• 44.7% non-Hispanic White
• 42.1% Hispanic/Latino (of any race)
• 9.6% Native American, Native Alaskan, Native Hawaiian and Other Pacific Islander
• 3.6% Mixed race, multicultural or biracial
• 1.9% Black
• 1.1% Asian

Ancestry Groups

• Mexican (16.3%)
• Native American (10.3%)
• German (9.8%)
• Hispanic (9.4%)
• Spanish (9.3%)

Second Languages – Most Non-English Languages Spoken at Home

• Spanish or Spanish Creole (28.7%)
• Navajo (4.1%)
• Various Native American Languages (1.6%)
• German (0.5%)
• French or French Creole (0.3%)

Religion

• Christian (75%) Including:
  • Catholic (34%)
  • Evangelical Protestant (23%)
  • Mainline Protestant (14%)
  • Mormon (2%)
  • Jehovah's Witness (1%)
  • Historically Black Protestant (1%)
• Unaffiliated, Refused to Answer, Etc (21%) Including:
  • Nothing in Particular (13%)
  • Agnostic (5%)
  • Atheist (3%)
• Non-Christian Faiths (4%) Including:
  • Other (2%)
  • Buddhist (1%)

Education

Colleges and Universities in New Mexico include these five largest four-year schools:

School	City	Enrollment	NCAA or Other (Nickname)
University of New Mexico	Albuquerque	~33,079	Division I (Lobos)
New Mexico State University	Las Cruces	~19,028	Division I (Aggies)
Eastern New Mexico University	Portales	~7,750	Division II (Greyhounds)
New Mexico Highlands University	Las Vegas	~4,795	Division II (Cowboys)
Western New Mexico University	Silver City	~4,794	Division II (Mustangs)

Economy

State Minimum Wage: $7.50/hr State Tipped Minimum Wage: $2.13/hr Unemployment Rate: 6.2% Largest Employers

Employer	Industry	Location	Employees in State
University of New Mexico	Education	Albuquerque	12,000+
Los Alamos National Laboratory	Scientific research	Los Alamos	11,000+
Sandia Corporation	Research/Weapons Development	Albuquerque	8,700+
University of New Mexico Hospitals	Healthcare	Albuquerque	5,500+
ABQ Health Partners	Healthcare	Albuquerque	5,000+

Sports

There are no major league teams in any of the Big Five sports in New Mexico. The state is home to the Albuquerque Isotopes, a Triple-A baseball team named after the Springfield Isotopes from The Simpsons.

Fun Facts

1. Santa Fe is the highest capital city in the United States at 7,000 feet above sea level.
2. More than 25,000 Anasazi sites have been identified in New Mexico by archeologists. The Anasazi, the ancestors of the Pueblo, were around for 1300 years. Their great classical period lasted from 1100-1300 AD.
3. In 1950 the little cub that was to become the National Fire Safety symbol Smokey the Bear was found trapped in a tree when his home in Lincoln National Forest was destroyed by fire. In 1963, in Smokey's honor, the New Mexican legislature chose the black bear to be the official state animal.
4. 1 out of 4 workers in New Mexico work directly for the Federal Government. State and local governments are also major employers.
5. The City of Truth or Consequences was once called Hot Springs. In 1950 the town changed its name to the title of a popular radio quiz program.

List of Famous People
Previous States of the Week

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38. Colorado
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40. South Dakota
41. Montana
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43. Idaho
44. Wyoming
45. Utah
46. Oklahoma

As always, thanks to deadpoetic31 for compiling the majority of the information here, and any suggestions are greatly appreciated!)