Archive for May, 2010

Full Recap on Laughing One

Monday, May 31st, 2010

Totally out of the blue, the mysterious person we’ve nicknamed “Laughing One” got in contact with us. Kate has already highlighted a few posts that illustrate his sense of humor. This is a full recap of our history with him.

I apologize in advance for the length of this post, but the story is a bit complicated. I have to begin by backing up a ways. In late 2009, I had discovered a message hidden in the bitmap of a publicly available archival photo of Abraham Lincoln, stating: “3rd of the blue&black, meet at 0303etc. Antipollus.” This message was the beginning of our entire process of discovery, leading the discovery of what now appears to be a group of Immortals and their servants who call themselves “the blue&blacks.” This is a formidable secret society that takes itself very seriously, has considerable forces at its disposal, and may have historically played some of the roles incorrectly attributed by conspiracy theorists to the Illuminati.

Therefore, when we later found another message in a photo that parodies that one, we were astounded. It seemed impossible that someone could know of these hidden immortals, and yet mock them. Here is the text: “Firth of the Fist: meet at Froth of the Foot. Ox Adrenals.” Having considerable experience with anagrams, I immediately recognized “Ox Adrenals” as an anagram of the actual name we have been deliberately miswriting as “Antipollus,” and the remainder is clearly a joke. At first, we thought perhaps it was a joke one of us was playing on the the other, as we could not imagine anyone taking such an attitude toward this subject.  But the message turned out to be real.

Based on what she saw as a remarkable sense of humor, Kate nicknamed the author of this message, “Laughing One.”


Also, sounds just a wee bit like him!

Monday, May 31st, 2010

Besides the secret handshake, he sounds just a wee bit like Laughing One, wouldn’t you say, with the wordplay, irony and ridiculous jests. Remember these?

Parody in Message

Half of what You Read Here is True

More Anagrams

Navajo Transliterated into Sanscrit

Ipod Helicopters

Welcome, “Oxadrenals!” — Kate

P.S. Also, not only is “oxadrenals” an anagram of the real name we are miswriting as Antipollus, people take extract of ox adrenal glands as a natural supplement to live longer. This is really very, very clever!

Recap on Laughing One

Monday, May 31st, 2010

Having recently been contacted by Laughing One, I will recap his history. But it’s rather long and complex, and will take some time to assemble. The link in the first sentence of this post, however, will take you to the relevant posts (though in reverse chronological order.) — Glenn

[NOTE: The post initially went up without the link in the first sentence. Sorry!]


Monday, May 31st, 2010

We have now verified it: We have actually been contacted by the person we know as Laughing One. See the comments following the previous post.

More technically, he (or she) is someone with access to all the information Laughing One has sent us. But, since we know him in no other way than via that information, it amounts to the same thing. The implications are far reaching, and include the very real risk that Antipollus (not his real name) and others will also contact us. We have recently increased our security, and are believe that we are not traceable, but if so we wish to reiterate: We have no intention of exposing personally identifiable information about any of you.  – Stephen

[Addendum for our readers: A full recap of what we know about the person we call Laughing One can be found here.]

More on the message, and the symbol, and their connection.

Sunday, May 30th, 2010

Some interesting new ideas both on that message and the blue&black symbol .

As you may recall, there are two theories, one pointing to Santa Clara County in California (as the “province” of the city that is sister city to Izumo) and the other pointing directly at Japan.

During her meeting with Flyss, the Eldest said, “Both friends and not friends live where the trees are cold, and old and soft and high.” That would certainly fit with the Santa Clara theory, as redwood trees are all of these, and they abound in that part of California.

On the other hand, the accumulation of Japanese motifs is considerable. As our reader Merlin pointed out, the symbol bears a clear resemblance to a Japanese hanging gong. More recently, another reader directed out attention to the Japanese religious structure called a Torii. Here is a famous example:

A Torii is placed at the entrance to Shinto shrines, and marks the transition from secular to sacred space. The similarity between a Torii and the blue&black symbol is clearer when one looks at a simple version, such as this one:

If you simply move down the second bar, or “tiepiece,” and put a gong in the middle of it, you have the shape of the symbol almost exactly:

Secret Society of Immortals

I find this all quite suggestive. Perhaps we can combine these two linkages into one: that an order or secret society of True Immortals called the “blue&blacks” migrated from Izumo, Japan to the vicinity of Santa Clara, California, bringing with them a symbol that combines the sacred Torii with a Japanese hanging gong.

Furthermore, it is perhaps not unrelated that Izumo has one of Japan’s most ancient Shinto shrines, supposedly built at the dawn of time by Ōkuninushi, when Japan was ruled from Izumo. What if Ōkuninushi was an Immortal? He would naturally be thought of as a god. And what if Ōkuninushi later left Japan for the New World, landing in California, and founded some habitation there, now calling himself Antipollus? [Note: It appears that the actual Immortal involved is a as a woman named Sollaya/Soraya. See the comments to this post, as well as full posts that will follow soon.] Perhaps the most recent migration from Oklahoma to California is a joining or linking up of two groups, those living underground in Oklahoma having a different origin, but linking up with Antipollus’ group? One can easily imagine that a dense redwood forest would be an ideal place to hide out from prying eyes. – Glenn

A whole set of fascinating questions

Saturday, May 29th, 2010

Strattera, your post raises a whole set of fascinating questions. There are enormous practical difficulties for a person who does not age to move through our society without being identified. I think we’ve already established that personal security would be of immense importance to such a person: they have eternity to lose, whereas we have only a finite life span at risk. But the current era makes anonymity difficult. It appears that the person you and Flyss met has taken the approach of acquiring great power, as opposed to “the Aussie,” who seems merely to hide.

You also raise an interesting biological question. If the aging clock is disabled, or slowed, would that in some way allow regeneration of damaged tissue? Certainly, if this does not happen, one would expect an immortal to gradually accumulate wear and tear — and would that include such things as arthritis? I’ll need to check with a biologist friend of mine. – Stephen

Observations, questions

Saturday, May 29th, 2010

For what it’s worth, here’s my report on what happened last Sunday night when Flyss and I crossed this bridge.

I began to notice members of some type of security service at least a quarter of mile before we arrived. They were deployed reasonably professionally, but not with any awe-inspiring skill. Not like the US Secret Service, for example. I was on the outskirts of a Presidential visit once, and those folks were of a whole different caliber. In this case, it was more a matter of how many of them there were. Whoever had set up the operation, they had money to burn.

There was also the curious incident of the journalists in the night; the journalists that weren’t there. How can you practically evacuate a public part of a city and not draw in camera snappers? Apparently you stage visits by Britney Spears lookalikes, report ghoulish sex crimes, have a Santa water ski in the lake and  light firecrackers near the mayor’s office, because that’s what happened around town that night. Who knows what else had to be set up? So they had great advance work, if nothing else.

The other question that comes to mind is, how does an Immortal hire people to work for her and make sure not one of them sells their story to the tabloids? An inner circle, at least, has to know her story, at least to some extent, I would think. How do you stop it from spreading? This part I never did figure out. But in the case of this particular person, one has to count on the effect of charisma. In person, she’s riveting, as Flyss described.

I guess my only other additional insights have to do with her nationality: I saw her up close, and heard her speak, but I have no idea where she comes from. A person who’s lived for any number of hundred years would have to have a whole mixture of accents, even if she only spoke one language, since all languages change their pronunciation over times like that. So its no surprise she didn’t have a recognizable accent. But I wonder how long one would have to have live so as not to look like any current nationality. Not that one can always tell where people came from. But she didn’t look like anyone I’ve ever seen.

Not that she was deformed. Not at all. She was beautiful, really, in an exotic way. It really gets down to that, I guess. The exoticism. She was from somewhere far away, but not any place I’ve heard of. Which does fit with her coming from somewhere long ago in time.

One final comment: She didn’t have any signs of wear and tear on her face or her hands (which is all that was visible.) So if she has been on the planet for a long time, does this mean that she regenerates herself? Otherwise, you’d expect a person to pick up a scar or two as she goes along. At the same time, she can hardly be supernaturally invulnerable, or why would she need all the security? That fits with the theory that these are people who do not age, but aren’t otherwise supernatural. — Strattera

What she said

Friday, May 28th, 2010

That’s what she didn’t say. What she said is just as interesting: “I hold the powers equal and let chance decide.”

It would seem that “The Eldest” makes a habit of voluntarily surrendering her power of choice to random chance. As one could call “random chance” the uncontrolled free choice of the universe, this is most assuredly a form of spirituality. It is perhaps the first form of spirituality I have ever encountered that I can respect.  – Stephen

Question from a reader: Why do we put this information online?

Friday, May 28th, 2010

A reader from the Netherlands asks why are we putting this information online? Isn’t it taking a risk?

True, it is a risk, and potentially a very serious one.  We mitigate the danger to ourselves by various practices, as Flyss describes in her response within the link above. Flyss also describes one of the potential benefits we hope to derive in exchange for that risk. I would add one other benefit: that  posting our investigations online allows us to receive aid from readers. We have already had considerable help from that quarter, not the least of which includes providing us with our new investigator and blog contributor, “Strattera.” — Stephen

What she did not say

Thursday, May 27th, 2010

“The Darkness and the Light Need Each Other.”

(You were left with these words she did not say.)

How troubling, how profound a thought.

In too much light / the stained human soul  is washed away,

Those blood-stained colors in all their beauty /faded to pure spirit,

Shining, translucent, without stain. /So great a loss for so great a gain!

Not to trivialize / for there is dark so strong it breaks the heart

Even breaks the soul /And healing comes too late.

Some of us who’ve touched such pain / choose pure light

Pure spiritual grace /and gladly transcend the guttered stage.

But others may find in that flickering, half-dark flame / a more human grace.

Don’t we need one another, for all we take take our differing ways?

– Kate

Not either /or, is it?

Thursday, May 27th, 2010

It doesn’t have to be either/or, does it? It turns out that Homeland Security closed the airspace over that city Flyss and Strattera were  in when “the Eldest” came out from hiding and spoke to them. It shows her greatness, as Flyss perceived so powerfully as a direct impression, but also that Glenn is right when he thinks about influence at the highest level of government.

Both would appear to be true. And equally stunning. — Stephen

You’re so missing the point

Wednesday, May 26th, 2010

You’re so missing the point, Glenn. All this conspiracy fascination is shallow. They’re so much greater than any of that. Lift your mind up, for God sake. — Flyss

Fascinating infrastructure

Wednesday, May 26th, 2010

Amazing information in your last eight posts, Flyss! It boggles the mind to think what infrastructure they have to be able to field so many agents in public, and not be observed. They must have fingers into every level of government, from the city on up, as well as controlling the media and probably the street gangs too.

I notice in a comment where you say you think this “Yahahnna” knows about our blog. I also assume that’s what she means by “your world that is not in the world.” Probably, she has access to the NSA, and all those levels of government.

On another note, have you followed the thread that leads to Japan? Inspired by our reader Merlin, I found numerous examples of Japanese gongs online that look much like our symbol, such as this one:

The difference here, though, is that this gong, like all others I’ve found, is held from above only, whereas in the symbol it’s held from the side as well:

Secret Society of Immortals

If we could find a gong of this design, we might be well on our way to picking up a new trail. I wonder if you’d consider going to Izumo to see if you find any examples there. – Glenn

P.S. Or, if any readers are near Izumo, and can look for a gong that matches our “illuminati symbol,” that would be tremendously helpful.

What she said (or didn’t say) part 2: The darkness and the light

Wednesday, May 26th, 2010

This is the last installment. I’m doing this so badly. It looks silly written down. When it happened it was anything but.

“I, Yahahhna, this I command to you: Speak my name aloud in your world that is not in the world. The other may then find my name, and then find you. Or they may not find my name, and not find you. Some of them are your friends. Some are not. Both friends and not friends live where the trees are cold, and old and soft and high. I will not choose sides, but hold the powers equal and let chance decide.

“But this I do decide: You will leave here, for I am here. You shall not follow me. You shall not study me or search me. You will go. Go far from here, and live.”

She touched my face for an instant, then swirled away with all her escort. It seems like years since then. And there are words in my head, though I don’t know why, since she didn’t say them. “The darkness and the light, they need each other.”

I don’t know what this means. I hurt. But I obeyed her and left the city instantly. — Flyss

What she said, part 1: To hold the powers equal and let chance decide

Wednesday, May 26th, 2010

Time to take a stab at what she said. This is nothing like word for word. And I don’t know how to convey the power in her voice. But I’ll do what I can.

She said something like this:

“You are looking, yes? You want to find. You, and the others you talk to without seeing. You look for hints, and clues. You follow.  You track.  You hound the shadows of some who are great and some who are small, some who are kind, some who are cruel. But you find me. I am kind and I am cruel. I Yahahnna, who cares and who has passed caring.”

That’s not right! I can’t render it. I also can’t render how she shifted between smiles and frowns, dark looks and kind looks, just like she did that night in the car.

After she said something much different from what I just wrote above, she  turned her face away and stared at this water below the bridge.

Encounter Immortal Bridge

She stared down for a long time. Then she saw something, I don’t know what, and snapped back to me.  She said, ”I, Yahahhna, I do not decide. I hold the powers equal and let chance decide.”

It was much more beautiful than that.

(Continued in the next post.) – Flyss

What happened, part 3: Her face

Tuesday, May 25th, 2010

I said she spoke to us, but it’s complicated.  She did speak in words, in a voice that combined every accent you could imagine. But she also spoke without words. I don’t mean anything psychic. I’m talking about her face. I lost myself in it.

My mother has an expressive face, and so does Meryl Streep, but this woman has a face like a book of stories.  Not like those amazing Navajo elders with wrinkles so deep you can get lost in them.  She doesn’t look any older than me. (Well, she does look older, infinitely older, but not physically.) So I don’t really know how her face says so much.  But it does. And I’m a little confused about which parts were in words and which parts came across the other way. Strattera is a little clearer about it, but she’s going to tell her part on her own.

I do remember the words coming across in something not exactly normal English, which I suppose must mean I heard her speaking, because face-stories don’t have grammar. Though maybe my brain is adding a style to her non-verbal speech because of who she is.

Who she is.  I don’t know who she is. She never said she was the eldest among women, like Kate envisioned, but I’m going to think of her that way. She said her name, and I think it was Yahahhna (name changed.) She’s not like anyone I’ve ever met, or imagined meeting.

No, that’s not true. I imagined a tiny bit of this in a flash when she looked at me from a car the other night, and then also when Kate posted her vision-poem.  Back then, I said I got a feeling  the woman in the car was protecting me. I don’t think so anymore.

Well, not exactly.  She is protecting me, but I dare not count on it. God, though, all those things I thought about, like tunnels and GPS trackers and the Bounty Hunter, it all seems so trivial. I’m sure I’ll get back to them, but just now it’s all too trivial.

(Continued in the next post) – Flyss

What happened, part 2: Who we saw.

Tuesday, May 25th, 2010

On the far side of the bridge, bodyguards were positioned way out into the darkness. But now they were moving aside, letting someone through. We couldn’t see who it was, but the desire that had pulled me there switched on again, aiming that way.  The ripple came closer, traveling up onto the bridge, until the security near us moved away too, and someone in dark clothes and wearing something like tai chi slippers came through them.  She had a funny way of walking, planting each foot definitely on the ground before the next one lifted. She wore a veil over her face, violet and lacy. She came up to us and stopped.  She looked up at me, and looked further up to stare for a second at Strattera beside me. Then she parted her veil.

Kate’s intuition had been brilliant, as usual.

She was perfectly young, and she was as ancient as the Grand Tetons.  She was beautiful, and she was ferocious. So tiny and so terrible: Not terrible as in evil, but as in awe inspiring, like an earthquake or the ocean or a woman giving birth.  She scared me to death and I wanted more than anything in the world to live around her forever.

Yes, she spoke to us.  But I’m exhausted and I need to go to sleep and recover from the effort of writing a hundred versions of this.

(Continued in the next post.) — Flyss

What happened, part 1: The Bridge

Tuesday, May 25th, 2010

I still have no idea where to begin. I’ve written a hundred versions of this and deleted them. Strattera says I should just hit “undelete”42 times and use that version.  So I will do that.

There’s a river that runs through the city here. It used to have gold in it, long ago, but now it’s fenced in tight and tamed. There’s an old railroad bridge across the river that’s been turned into a pedestrian path, and we went walking over it last night.

On the other side of the bridge, there’s a skateboard park that’s usually so full of skater guys and skater chicks showing off their tricks you can hear the hiss of the slick little wheels a mile away.  Not this time. Usually, there are a dozen bicycles a minute racing past, teenagers shouting “on your left” with enough warning time you can  freeze in place and hope they don’t clip you.  No bicycles last night. No one walking their dog. No police. No cars. The streetlights were even off, most of them, except for one that flickered 10 seconds on and 10 seconds off.

We walked across the bridge toward all that nothing, and I tried to do what Kate said, trust my instincts, only I was having trouble doing that because my instincts disagreed.

I was scared to death. I already knew this was ten times more dangerous than closing up on the Bounty Hunter (though looking back I realize it was more like a million times more dangerous.) I also knew that I’d never felt so awed, or aching. Strattera was no help because she used to be in the military and so she kept looking around and at all the possible threats, which she saw better than me because I was wearing the handy blinders I keep around for just such moments.

The bodyguards (or secret service, or security detail, or whoever they were) acted like Venus Fly Trap spines, letting us go forward but not backward. We walked deeper in. Every wriggle took us further onto the bridge. When we got to the middle, the spines closed in from the other side too and we were trapped. We waited there, looking out on the old tamed river flowing up into the middle of the city, big huge guys in suits behind us and in front of us, patient like they are, with those wires winding like ivy up one side of their necks to their ears.

(continued in the next post) — Flyss

Photos of where it happened.

Monday, May 24th, 2010

Photos are easier than words. I’ll start with them.

We’d walked under this bridge,

eldest immortal

and then came up on top to cross it here.

Eldest Immortal

That’s where it happened. (The photo’s from afterwards, once they’d all left.) Like I said, I’m working on how to describe what happened. And Strattera wants me to go first.

(Continued in the next post) — Flyss

The morning after

Monday, May 24th, 2010

What happened last night was … so much. So unlike anything else.

I’m not forming words very well. I need to tell this story, but I need to recover. And I need to work on how to talk about it, to do it justice.

To do her justice. — Flyss

(Continued in this post)

Going out into it

Sunday, May 23rd, 2010

Strattera is here. We’re going out into it. I’ll let you know when we get back. — Flyss


Sunday, May 23rd, 2010

I will not hold my breath. All will be well. Flyss: Trust yourself completely.

– Kate

Something big is happening

Sunday, May 23rd, 2010

Sorry folks, I’m not going to wait until old paranoid Glenn makes up his mind that Strattera is cool. I need help now.

Something big is happening about ten miles from where the Bounty Hunter is camped out at his office building. (I stumbled across it by accident — but that’s another story.) There are suddenly bodyguard-types everywhere: walking the street, doing crossword puzzles in parked cars, taking rooms on the second or third floor of apartments, slouching into position on rooftops. In one hotel, it looks like they’ve rented every room. And there is no police presence at all, even though this is the kind of are they usually patrolten times an hour. (But that’s OK. All the local drug dealers, pimps and even the skateboarders seem to have gone on paid vacation.) It’s way beyond the treatment even the President gets.

I need help.  And, knowing you, Glenn, I won’t even ask. Instead, I sent Strattera my location and how to find me. — Flyss

P.S. I’ve made my decision for myself, but I have no right to make it for you folks. So I won’t do anything that could lead Strattera to any one of you unless/until I get the go ahead.

How to vet one of us?

Saturday, May 22nd, 2010

As the discussion in a set of post comments shows, it’s difficult to determine how to vet anyone. Kate, Flyss and I know each other in person, and I’ve worked with Flyss so long I trust her entirely. None of us have even met Stephen, but we’ve worked with him long enough to that there’s considerable trust.  However, how do we respond to a new person like Strattera who wishes to join us?  Do we tell her where we’re actually working? Do we let her meet one of us in the flesh? What if she works for some subset of Immortals who wishes us harm? Or if she works for another group seeking to monopolize access?  What possible test can we apply?

Stephen and I are doing a tremendous amount of background research on “Strattera.” The fact that she had sex change surgery is, to be sure, tremendously helpful. We have no doubt that she is 28 years old. So, if she is a Hafeem or True Immortal, she doesn’t know it yet.

But how do we know she doesn’t work for them? — Glenn

Getting tired of all the sordid stuff

Saturday, May 22nd, 2010

Glenn, I’d be more interested in your suggestions if you actually did something, occasionally, instead of promising and not doing it!

But, I guess what you say makes sense. It’s just that the Bounty Hunter was originally on the trail of the Aussie, and I’m sure he’ll lead us to him eventually. The Aussie is definitely a non-mortal. And, aside from being a narcissistic jerk, who takes “love ‘em and leave ‘em” to a breathtaking new level (he marries people, has children, then leaves them in about 10-15 years,, probably because that’s when his immortality begins to show), he’s incredibly perfect in some ways. If you just look at his photos, especially the one from 1958, you’ll see it. He has a radiance to him.

I’m getting tired of all the sordid detective stuff. I want to get nearer to that great beauty. — Flyss

P.S. I’m not being fair to Glenn. He’s a conspiracy nut, but he’s figured out lots of stuff.  Look at his posts.

PPS. I think seeing that woman did something to me. She had a feeling to her. It’s that feeling I want to get near.

If I may make a suggestion.

Saturday, May 22nd, 2010

If I may make a suggestion, what about focusing our attention on the person you call The Servant? The Bounty Hunter seems to be several steps removed from the people we’re looking for, whereas the Servant appears to work for them directly. You still have a tracker in his car, too, which suggests that despite how good a job he did kidnapping the BH, he’s not as careful on his own behalf. I would predict that he soon leaves the area, and that where he goes will be closely connected with that message.– Glenn

How can I follow him when he leaves???

Saturday, May 22nd, 2010

I’m staking out the office building where the Bounty Hunter is staying at, but I don’t know how I’m going to follow him when he leaves. It’s not that I’m afraid to follow him — with or without any extra protection, regardless of what Glenn thinks — but I know he’ll catch me at it. He’s too good.  But what can I do to keep on him when he leaves??? I don’t want to lose him again!!

Stephen, if they did implant a tracking chip in him during that brief “kidnapping,” can I tap in to it? Strattera, do you have any idea why someone in his position would want to live for weeks in an office building rather than, say, a hotel? Is there some practical advantage?  Here’s another view of what it looks like:

Immortal Hunter

Kate, do you have any insight as to what might be going through his head? I’m just desperate not to lose him again, now that I’ve found him. –Flyss

(For new readers, the “Bounty Hunter” isn’t an immortal himself, but he’s someone who tracks immortals, both the totally immortal kind and also Hafeems. We know for a fact that he was trailing the Aussie for awhile, but he seems to have taken a break from that. Still, he’s one of the few “on the ground” leads we have at the moment.)

On a woman’s face

Thursday, May 20th, 2010

On a woman’s face / a wild primeval smile

Shining with the power / Of one who’s lived

Since the dawn of history.

Since the dawn of words.

She is not elderly /merely ancient.

Ancient beyond imagining /and forever young.

She has borne children, outlived them / outlived whole tribes

Outlived whole nations, languages and peoples /born of her.

She is the Eldest among women.

::This is only a vision::

– Kate

On another note

Thursday, May 20th, 2010

I’m staying out of the fight between you two!

On another note, I tracked down some interesting information about that abandoned parking garage where the ambulance was exchanged for a Mercedes SUV. The reason it’s abandoned is that it was built for an office building that never came into being. The office building had been approved by the county, ownership submitted by a company whose owner’s owner’s owner has a subsidiary whose subsidiary’s subsidiary built the freeway overpass with the tunnel beneath. I’d say we have evidence of conspiracy here! But no direct lead to any immortals. Still, I’ll be investigating the interlocking companies further. — Stephen

About your suggestion

Thursday, May 20th, 2010

About your suggestion: I’ll take or not take whatever precautions I personally judge I should or should not, thank you very much! — Flyss

Please don’t start imagining

Thursday, May 20th, 2010

Flyss, please don’t start imagining that you’re under some mysterious woman’s protection and so don’t need to take precautions! — Glenn

Woman in a car

Wednesday, May 19th, 2010

Glenn commented on how odd it is that someone who could pull off such a smooth operation on a sophisticated guy like the Bounty Hunter didn’t notice an amateur detective tailing around. It could be my extremely great skills. Or, maybe I’m secretly one of them. (That last was his suggestion. How friendly of him. The bum!)

But I do think there is something weird going on. The other night, when the EMTs were kidnapping the BH, I had the strong impression that one of them looked straight at me where I was sitting in my car a block away, and sent me a hateful stare. But only for a second.  Then, he shook his head and turned away. I think he knew I was spying on him, wanted to kill me for it, but wasn’t allowed to, which annoyed him.

And another thing. While I was tailing the ambulance, a flock of black cars came scudding up around me, and around the ambulance too. (They weren’t all of any one type, so it could have been nothing at all, just traffic.)  One car sidled up alongside me and hung there, matching speedometers. There was a woman in the back seat who got my attention. She was giving me the most peculiar look, like she might want to hug me or kill me, depending on her mood. Then she picked one of the two moods, and smiled.  It was a friendly smile, but intense, almost crazy.  Or primeval. My imagination says she’s the one protecting me.

Of course, this could be nothing but imagination. — Flyss

Temporary Kidnapping?

Tuesday, May 18th, 2010

I’m not at all sure what I just watched. It was a strange kind of temporary kidnapping.

As you may remember, I rediscovered our friend the Bounty Hunter coming out of this office building:

Immortal Seeker

According to the GPS detector I have in his car, the fellow I nicknamed The Servant has been conducting surveillance on the site on and off for two weeks. I think the BH has been living there. Tonight, he ventured out to visit a kind of classy bar.  Having  been burned last time, I didn’t try to get up close and personal, but parked a block away and watched with binoculars. This is what I saw. I don’t get it.

Around ten at night, the BH comes out of the bar into this alley (which I took a photo of afterwards, not at the time):

Bounty Hunter Kidnapping

As he comes out, a blond woman in her late twenties starts talking to him. He looks a little interested, not terribly. They don’t stand all that close. But she has his attention. Then he slumps and looks like he’s going to fall. He’s a big guy, and she’s not, but she catches him and holds him up. Seconds later — and I mean seconds — an ambulance pulls up and official looking EMTs haul him in.  Naturally, I follow the ambulance, from a heavily discrete distance.

The ambulance drives around for about fifteen minutes and then pulls off into what looks like a totally unused parking garage. I don’t see what happens inside, but a black Mercedes SUV a lot like the BH’s own pulls out so quickly afterwards I happily abandon the ambulance and follow it instead. It drives back to the bar, and two guys in suits manhandle the BH out of the Mercedes right back to where he was standing before. The young blond lady comes out of the car and takes her same position too.

He’s slumping, but then he unslumps when(I think) one of the guys stabs him with something. They talk for about thirty seconds and then he leaves her and gets back in his own Mercedes and drives home.

My impression is that he didn’t even know any time had passed!

Keep in mind this guy is ex-CIA, ex-MI-5, all that. He’s not an easy target.  I think they kidnapped him to do some kind of medical procedure, and he didn’t even know it happened. Did they implant a bomb? A GPS tracker? A bug? A mind-controlling device? Or just give him a flu shot? What the heck? — Flyss

Sister city

Tuesday, May 18th, 2010

An attempt to decipher the message: Izumo has a sister city in the US: Santa Clara, California.  The province of sister city might be the county it’s in.  So that would be Santa Clara county. Maybe the blue&black branch or subdivision of Immortals has relocated there. - Glenn

[Later note: Our reader Merlin has sent my mind in another direction.  See this comment by him.]

Province of a sister

Tuesday, May 18th, 2010

I don’t know what “my sister’s province” means specifically, but one can’t help but get a sense of a strong female presence in their world. — Kate


Tuesday, May 18th, 2010

Sorry, sorry, sorry. I’m OK. This is just one of those stakeout things where you do nothing but have to be at total attention.  A full report soon. — Flyss

P.S. Anyone getting anywhere with the “my sister’s province” part of the message?


Tuesday, May 18th, 2010

Flyss … We’re holding our breath, remembering last time. Tell us you’re OK. — Kate


Sunday, May 16th, 2010

Yes! There is a God.

Look who came out of that surveilled building!

An old friend I lost track of for a while …   — Flyss

A certain building

Sunday, May 16th, 2010

So, the tracker is still working in the Servant’s car, and he hasn’t shown any signs of wanting to migrate to Izumo. Instead, he’s been conducting surveillance on this building:

I’m crossing my fingers on who comes out of it … Flyss

Brilliant geeks

Saturday, May 15th, 2010

It amazes me the way action types like me need brilliant geeks to get anywhere. That’s pretty cool decoding, even if we don’t have a ghost of a clue what the decoded message means. Thanks particularly to a cool geeky guest-blogger guy who calls himself “Straterra,” along with our resident uber-math-geek Stephen. All we have to do now is put together “My Sister’s Province” and “Izumo City,” a city that happens to have maybe the oldest Shinto shrine in Japan. I’m sure old geeky Glenn will be the one who figures out what it means. (Or, at least, make something up that sounds good :-)

Meanwhile, I’m off to fry up some other fish.  – Flyss

Physical immortality

Saturday, May 15th, 2010

I also wanted to mention that I’ve been chatting a bit with some folks who believe that it is possible to achieve physical immortality.  Most of these aren’t scientific types — Stephen wouldn’t approve — but it’s interesting that so many people are focused on it.

My direct conversations have been with Dr. Janni Lloyd, a former MD who is a spiritually-inclined advocate for achieving physical immortality.  She leads an amazingly popular blog on, and has done a number of interviews online, including this one.

Here are some similar sites.

Here’s one that seems to be scientific rather than spiritual, quite up Stephen’s line: Immortality Institute

I hadn’t realized there were so many of these! — Kate

Japanese poem

Saturday, May 15th, 2010

There’s a touching poem on one of those pages Glenn found. It was written in the year 900, but uses an image from a much older story. In the original story, a person is given an immortality herb of some kind, and when he wakes from a nap the handle of the ax he had with him has rotted away.  He hurries home, but everyone he knows is long dead.  In the later use, this feeling is applied to a more ordinary return from long travel.  It makes me realize that we experiences the same losses Immortals do. For them, it’s just more extreme.

Here’s the poem.

I’ve come back home.
There is no friend to play Go with.
That place far away
where an axe handle turned to dust -
how dear to me it has become!



Saturday, May 15th, 2010

Thanks to Stephen and our reader Aaron, we’ve now translated the message embedded in the image Flyss found. It reads “Izumo shi,” or the city of Izumo.  The name itself means “city where the clouds come out.” It’s a moderately small city of about 150,000.

Perhaps of note, it contains one of the oldest shinto shrines in Japan, called Izumo Taisha. As early as 950, it was about 150 feet tall, according to records of the time, and might have been the tallest wooden structure in Japan.

The presence of that shrine intuitively strikes me as significant. One might naturally expect Immortals to attempt to manipulate religious traditions for their own ends.  But I don’t know if there are any East Asian versions of the Illuminati mythology.  There are certainly many tales of immortals.  This site describes mythologized incidents in which a person just happens to run across an immortal, or becomes an immortal. There are many more stories of this type in China. See, for example, this page.

There’s a lot to work with here.  We also still need to put the city of Izumo together with the phrase “My sister’s province.” — Glenn

P.S. I’m adding this subject to a new category called “Messages.”

Offset-embedded characters

Friday, May 14th, 2010

I believe our guest blogger Strattera is correct that this offset-embedding represents Japanese characters. I whipped together a computer program to extract them more precisely than his hand-drawn attempt. Here’s what came out.

I would appreciate the aid of any of our readers who can translate it for us. If it’s helpful, this was written on the back: “Her sister’s province.” — Stephen

How an offset shift works

Friday, May 14th, 2010

Flyss asked me to explain how an offset shift code works. I hope it isn’t already too obvious to all of you.

You start with a regular pattern, such as vertical lines. Then, you shift parts of the pattern in the shape of the words you want to “encode.” Click on the image below to see an easy to read example.

The hidden letters or pattern are much more difficult to see in the “message” Flyss found, because the background is so uneven. It looks to be a partly mashed radiator, probably a ’70s era air conditioning radiator for a building of between 1500 to 3000 square feet. Also, the shifted segments aren’t English letters, which makes it harder for English readers.

Here’s my attempt to trace the edges of the shifted part. I’m more sure of the horizontals than the verticals.

It looks like Japanese, I think. — Strattera

Beaten to the punch

Friday, May 14th, 2010

Hah, Stephen. You were beaten to the punch by a reader! Check the comments. :-) Flyss

Shifted lines.

Friday, May 14th, 2010

It’s not that, Glenn. Notice the shifted lines in the image? That’s where the message is. This is an offset-embedding. I’m adapting some software to extract it. — Stephen

Calligraphy drawn in

Friday, May 14th, 2010

It certainly does look calligraphic, but I don’t recognize the script. I’ve traced it below. These symbols must represent words in an Illuminati language. I’ll look through my books. –Glenn

Is this a clue?

Thursday, May 13th, 2010

Is this some kind of message?

Hidden Message from Immortals

I found it printed on a piece of paper stuck down in a crack in the floor of that place near the factory that I nicknamed “the blockhouse.” I ran over  to check it out after I found the freeway tunnel bricked closed. The blockhouse still had a working door, but the place was abandoned. Lots of computer jacks, but no computers and no debris, except for the one sheet they must not have seen when they cleaned out of there.

Oh, and on the back of the paper, it reads “Her Sister’s Province.” Any guesses what it’s about? It kind of looks like calligraphy to me. — Flyss

How Do Immortals Migrate?

Thursday, May 13th, 2010

Do Immortals migrate / in great black fleets of helicopters?

In motorcades of black SUVs? /in hearses? / in coffins?

Do they burrow beneath the soil like moles?

Are they carried in armored cars /guarded by a government they suborn?

Or do they each bundle the risks of a thousand years of life /into one great chance

And take a cab? — Kate