Wednesday, January 19th, 2000

YOU ARE CURRENTLY SEEING BLOG POSTS IN PROPER CHRONOLOGICAL ORDER. While in this mode, the links at the bottom and top of each page are not correctly labeled. However, the left pointing arrow always advances forward in time, and the right pointing arrow retreats.

Special Review Post

Friday, January 1st, 2010

The Eldest is said to be the oldest living person. It is believed that she dates back to before the dawn of speech. That would make her 50 to 100 thousand years old. Besides the information contained in this category, she is extensively described in the Narratives of the The Immortality Project. Of note, she does not work with Soraya and Alexandros (the leaders of the Immortal Illuminati.) She is a power unto herself. She is said to have an Indonesian or Polynesian appearance; she is short, but carries a tremendous sense of personal presence.

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)

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

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

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 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 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 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

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

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

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

The woman in the bar = ?

Friday, September 17th, 2010

I wonder if anyone else shares my guess about the identity of the woman who met Blair in the bar in Installment 8. Here’s the description:

She was very feminine and tiny. Asian, I think. But utterly sure of herself.”

She essentially dares Blair to abandon Saul, in a maneuver calculated to cause Saul immense anguish; and if my guess is right, it is a maneuver acted out with gusto by someone Saul trusts and reveres.

And then, 75 years later, that same person commands Saul to return to the scene of where he was so badly hurt, and to “cease penance and live!” (as described in the early part of The Hafeem Saul.) Possibly this is all some kind of cruel kindness intended to help him grow and develop, but it is breathtakingly manipulative.

Much as I am enjoying my conversations with Soraya’s representative, there is no question that these people, too, are masters of the art manipulating people for their (supposed) own good. If Oxadrenals is a brazen manipulator, he is in good company. - Strattera

Clarification: The Eldest and Soraya

Tuesday, September 21st, 2010

Some readers have expressed confusion between Soraya and The Eldest. I am sure this is our fault. My apologies for leaving things unclear.

I suspect that one source of the confusion is that The Eldest was described as being Asian in appearance, and Soraya as having a connection with Japan. But there is no direct relationship between the two.

Soraya is the head of the Blue&blacks, and claims to be perhaps 8000 years old. The Eldest is much, much older; it is said that she dates back to the dawn of speech. That would be 50 – 100 thousand years ago. Soraya works closely with Alexandros.  The Eldest is a power unto herself. — Stephen

“Too Many Coincidences”

Tuesday, September 21st, 2010

Installment 5 of The Hanger-On, (the fourth narrative of the Immortality Project) is now posted.

Among other things, the trialogue between Saul, Janice and Menniss is hilarious!  At the same time, I was moved by Saul’s ability to recognize, and bring out, Menniss’ badly damaged underlying nobility.

The coincidences the title speaks of is clearly not that at all. The convergence upon Santa Cruz has been orchestrated by The Eldest.

It was she who caused Blair to abandon Saul in Santa Cruz and who later directed Saul to return to Santa Cruz. It was also she directed Oxadrenals to build his community of Hafeems there.* Isn’t it interesting how it is that though she worships chance, she also controls circumstances to a surprising extent.

And yet, perhaps it is all in the service of bringing matters to a point of maximum concentration, the low-entropic points at which chance plays the maximum role. — Stephen

*I know this last fact via personal communication from Oxadrenals (though it is hinted at in some of the dialogue between Janice and Oxadrenals/Zeke in Narrative 3.) The other points were explicitly noted in the published narratives.

On the Eldest

Saturday, September 25th, 2010

I have removed a comment by a reader in which he spoke disrespectfully of Eldest. I wish to explain why.

(1) The tone of the comment was rude and insulting. That would be inappropriate directed toward anyone.

(2) It is particularly so toward the Eldest, for several reasons.

(3) Someone of her age — possibly the oldest living human being — deserves to be treated respectfully simply for that age.

(4) She is exceedingly powerful, and therefore potentially dangerous. However, she does not treat mortal beings with contempt. Rather, she continually befriends them, extending love and affection to them.

(5) In person, she commands respect via her charisma and penetrating mind, as our own Flyss attests in the thread beginning here.

(6) Keep in mind that the Eldest is not herself interfering with the Immortality Project. Rather, she is giving that project protection from its enemies: the Immortal Illuminati. In general she does not attempt to control events; rather, she gently nudges aspects of circumstance in order (I believe) to bring out their true nature. This too, I believe, commands respect.

For all these reasons, as well as the esteem in which she is held by both Oxadrenals and Saul, we will not permit disrespectful comments about her on this site. — Stephen


Saturday, October 2nd, 2010

I know the content of this blog is complex, so I wish to clarify a point: It was Alexandros and Soraya who, as heads of Immortal Illuminati, deliberately chose to put Hitler in power, claiming that it was the only way they saw to prevent an even greater evil. (Installment 6 of Janice Among the Immortals.)

This is certainly a shocking revelation, and hard to swallow. But nowhere here do we read that it was The Eldest who did this.

At most, she did not interfere with them; she seems to be a minimalist in her manner of intervening in historical events.

Remember: Though the Illuminati keep a chair for her, Janice records Alexandros’ complaint that for a considerable period of time she has declined to join them. To a man of his age, the term “considerable” suggests centuries at the least.-- Stephen

The power of words to enslave

Saturday, October 2nd, 2010

In installment 8 of Janice Among the Immortals. The Eldest is sharing some of her personal history with Janice. She comes to the point in time when language was invented. What she says is intriguing:

Words became thought, became power. Words slaved her. Then she became free.

It makes me think of how we can use words to control others. Think of ideologies and religions. Words are planted in the mind that resound and influence behavior a whole life long. Without words, could there be any “ism?” — Kate