Chapter 8: viii

Memorializations and Condolences

 

Wesley “Wes” Hermes Ramana

(1985-2008) - Nazareth, PA

Wesley Hermes Ramana passed away unexpectedly Friday, April 11, 2008 at Merciful Light Hospital, surrounded by his loving family. They are choosing not to share details regarding the circumstances of his passing and request privacy in this difficult time.

Wesley was born November 28th, 1985 in Nazareth, PA and was a source of life and joy to all those around him. He graduated in 2007, Magna Cum Laude, from The Washington Institute with a degree in Historical Assessment and Analysis.

An avid researcher, student, teacher, and friend, Wes was interested in many topics others would consider too niche or unimportant to occupy themselves over; in this way, he was able to see the beauty in many things that others ignored. Although always on his computer finding new topics to develop a richer understanding of, this didn’t keep him from spending time with his friends and peers.

 Wesley is survived by his father, Jay, mother, Ellis, and sister, Frances. A celebration of life will be held at Nazareth Funeral Home on May 20th. In lieu of flowers, the family asks that donations be made toward causes and organizations that help individuals dealing with substance abuse and mental health crises, two causes for which Wes had a deep passion.

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xMYSTERYx: did u get the malachi?

xMYSTERYx: ??

xMYSTERYx: bro r u ok?

xMYSTERYx: look i just hope this message gets to u. but i told u the dosage on that stuff is SMALL. u need the special scalew

xMYSTERYx: pls do not take it ALL! and only take a LITTLE

xMYSTERYx: u said u were going to use most for analysis and shit so thats why igave u that much

xMYSTERYx: W?

xMYSTERYx: pls bro im getting scared now honestly

xMYSTERYx: wes?????

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A Journal. October 9, 1769.

THIRTEEN invitations, correlating with thirteen steps on a journey towards the Northern Lodge and our mysterious benefactor, and we are getting closer by steps. With every puzzle solved, I feel the stripping away of another layer of the reality I left behind. We have begun to leave Swedenborg at the fort while we press forward; although nobody wishes for his letter, too, to be lost, his infirm health had affected our pace. No; more than anything, the members of our party would wish to see first-hand the wonders that await.

It is clear that we do not all hold the same expectation. While I avail myself to a more generalised sense of curiosity and adventure-seeking towards a Great Illumination that would benefit all man, I feel the Italians and Prussians are quite charmed by the possibility of a new temporal power which they presume will surpass those currently in existence. The Jesuits seem to work on behalf of the See, which, of course, would manage any phenomenon under the Sun while gladly leaving that above to their Lord. Swedenborg seems to seek a great conclusion to an academic and theological life; perhaps a bit macabre of me, but this seems outside his depth, and I wonder if he believes this to be something which, if he were to miss it, would fill his heart with greater fear than the judgement of death. The Englishmen, James, Hugh, Seth, Basil, they all seem quite comfortable within the organisation and ritual of a Lodge; I feel it is what they know best, and seem to discuss procedures and minutes and bureaucracy just as much as Illumination and Enlightenment and Ascending the Rosy Path, so to speak. Du Antioc, who I now find myself bearing little good-will towards, is presumably here by order of his Crown, Louis XV, no doubt still reeling from the disastrous conclusion of their dalliances in the Americas; Sidia, obviously, joins us by circumstance and bondage rather than personal motivation or higher cause (though this is not to say he is lacking in vigour or contribution, as it seems there is not a moment he is not poring over the information at hand, observing our surroundings, pointing out new avenues of both travel and thought, etc). Although I’m sure the others would ascribe to him an air of “mystery” or “secrecy”, I would dare say that the Baal-Shem’s motivations are closest to my own; Mister Falk does not seem to hide himself or his wants, but rather, from self-preservation, reserves himself from those he would expect to be hostile; our current party and hosts have only proved him right too many times. However, I often see him studying from dusty tomes which he has brought along, and he has not hidden this information from me, but has instead invited me to sit with him and read it too; he translates not only the Hebrew for me, but also the Koine and Aramaic, of which my knowledge is (to put it in a flattering manner) quite limited.

He has already Illuminated to me several incredible manuscripts, copies of which he has available (although, I will admit, he seems reticent to admit the source of the copy); these manuscripts include forgotten Gospels, esoterica so valuable to Knowledge and Truth that their impact is difficult to estimate; they, indeed, have already revealed the Ancient Understanding of Sin, Reality, Truth, Rationality, and Man. There is within his manuscripts the answers to everything; The proclamations of Christ following his resurrection, the True contents of Christ’s whispers to Judas, a mapping of the Deeper Reality that underlies our own as a Hypostasis.

I am drawn, then, to two conclusions; Firstly, that the Baal-Shem already holds Great Knowledge, and perhaps even Praeternatural Ability (although his character does not strike me as one to speak without demonstration), and therefore cannot be motivated by mundane causes, but only Higher ones; and Secondly, that perhaps alongside Sidia of Kantora, I have found an audience for Dee’s documents. James and Hugh, on occasion, look on with interest, but attempt to appear nonchalant.

The time is growing near that we will be confronted by the quandary of Stüller’s missing invitation. The Prussian’s invitation regarded political machinations that their Lord, Struensee, had instigated; there was an abundance of kingsfoil nearby which, as a company, we surmised to be the answer. As was written, we found beyond there a dark fen, framed by steep, jutting ridges. There were dark mire-pools, with water black as jet; a small dab on my tongue revealed the taste to be surprisingly brackish, and quite bitter. The fog was heavy and thick, hanging like alkali-air, which we attributed to the rot of wildlife which had been trapped in the mire. The stench, as a matter of course, was difficult to endure; One Jesuit, Reese, told us this meant there was sal ammoniac around, a compound I know to be of alchymical importance. Should we be further delayed, I would make a small errand of gathering a small quantity.

Should we stand before Ammon soon, will I merely be gathering his salts? What, indeed, is my mission here? Lately, I feel of two minds. My melancholia is withdrawing, but indeed, I find myself at conversation with myself more and more often; my mind still stirs. Is this the voice of obligation, of sheer Cause? An Inner Rational Light? Illuminate my way, then.

In search of meaning.

Arthur Wickham

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[99 comments]

[4/04/2008 22:13]: I’ve been studying the documents in the database more. I’m not sure diving further is a great idea.

 

Some of the guys in this group definitely run into trouble. I’m not sure any of it would be lethal, but at the same time, it’s not exactly something I want to live through.

 

It sounds like this lodge master, head mason, whatever, he has them doing the colonial equivalent of an ayahuasca trip. These dudes are digging up mushrooms and muck and mixing them together into some nasty potion that makes them vomit and trip. That’s the only explanation for the things Arthur is describing.

 

I mean, seriously. What’s going on with Stuller? It’s like they think he’s jesus christ or something. They’re describing messianic actions on his part, nothing I’ve witnessed myself on the few excursions I’ve made.

 

The whole “letter riddle” thing is INCREDIBLY strange, too. We only have the alleged text of some of them, not all, yet it seems like they find their destination. It’s not just a framing device, I’ve seen the letters. 

 

And on top of that, I’ve looked into some of the members of this group. Hindsight is a beautiful thing, and there’s been almost 300 years of documentation telling me about some of these folks. Like, the Austrians who are there on behalf of their “patron”, Struensee. The guy led a coup against the Austrian crown, was in bed with the Queen, and – according to further readings of his diaries – was probably associated with the illuminati. I guess the Austrians had more in common with Arthur than he might’ve thought.

 

Then there’s the British masons: James, Hugh, Basil, and Seth. I don’t think those are their real names. I’ve located parish records, but they bear evidence of falsification. For example, different reverends supposedly annotated the records of their births and baptisms… that’s very uncommon at that time. Not only that, but while their parents are recorded on the records for the masons, I can’t find parish records for the parents themselves. Again, this is not common. Not for this period, not for this region. Within three months prior to their birth, there are records in nearby parishes, court proceedings for poachers charged with child-theft. Field fires, record thefts, it gets hard to trace a clear line after a point but… I think these dudes stole their identities, or straight up falsified them.

 

One thing I know is, I don’t want to see that lion-masked man again. He must be the lodge master. Everyone else, I can understand. I can see motive and humanity. I’m not so sure about the lodge master. It’s the strangest feeling, but I can only describe it as uncanny… like there’s no indication of humanity. It’s not like human beings walk around with signs saying “I’m human”, so there’s not really any indication of humans having humanity either, but you can see it. You see it in their eyes, you hear it in their voice, that essential imperfection, that longing for something better. The lodge master with the lion face, to my perception, did not have such.

 

But I need to. I need to go back.

 

This cohort is playing some imperceptible role in the formation of the United States. Whether they’re a network of financiers, conspirators, or whatever, they’re playing a big role. This is the hinge that history is turning on. I can see it in the Italians, for sure – they’re attempting to hasten the formation of a new order. There is a will to power among this group, or at least among many of them. While the Baal-Shem and Arthur rattle on about esoteric gnosis, the Austrians and Italians and other politically connected group members (the frenchman Antioc comes to mind) seem to be mostly concerned with political machinations. They whisper about forces mustering here and there, supply lines which are prone to exploitation, the passageways and tunnels within draft legislation they’ve pushed… they bristle at the thought of ending westward expansion, at emancipation. It’s anathema to them. They’re seeking a cure in the Northern Lodge.

 

Someone must stop them, and I’m afraid I’m the only person with the knowledge or ability to do so. We’re INCREDIBLY fucked, right? A drug-addled, blog-writing grad student is our best shot. Yeah, we’re fucked.

 

I’m gonna give it my best shot, though.

 

Signing off

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