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Project X Newsletter Expanded, issue #41 July 10, 20001. Opening Words - Alexander Aldarow Opening Words (view on a separate page) Things are changing. But nothing changes. And still there are some changes.
Le roi est mort, vive le roi.
"you see... i have some plans for your beloved px... and when i'll finish it, you and your group will FALL DOWN. unless you will act wisely one time for a change and join... and trust me... it's not a dream anymore. you are the corrupted one, and so your px. that group i'm creating is rising as we speak... and when the right time comes you will see what i can do." PX, of course, stands for Project X. Everybody, meet Eddie Levin, who
lurks in the Net by nicknames of 'fallen' or 'oblivion'. Feeding his mind
by fantasy role-playing-like concepts and megalomanic desire for self-glorification,
he plans to establish and lead a "Golden Dawn"-like cult of mages, with
a catchy name of "White Spiral", thus, in his opinion, reassuring that
he "will be remembered". First started in Israel, where he plans to have
all the Israeli sorcerers and necromancers "on the palm of his hand" (I'm
just quoting him, nothing more), he wants to spread like a locust as far
as Canada.
The Sweat Lodge (view on a separate page) (more articles about else) I would like to share with you one of my experiences at a sweat lodge. This particular one occurred the same weekend that I received my first Eagle feather, which I have shared before. It was a three day ceremony celebrating Summer Solstice in the north Okanagan Valley at a place called Rainbow Medicine Wheel Camp. A beautiful spot nestled in the corner of a meadow, surrounded by trees and beside a small river. The sweat lodge, on the edge of the river was separated from the main lodge, medicine wheel and tipi village by a small tree line about thirty yards wide. The tree line followed a low bog type area, probably a backwash from the river during spring runoff. On the path through this bog they had placed boards to enable access without having to arrive with knee-high mud leggings. There were two lodges facing each other with a fire pit between them. One for the men and one for the ladies or so it was this day. The opening to the men's sweat was facing east, its back to the river. The sweat occurred on the evening of the first day. My brother Greg and I had arrived just in time to set up our tents and proceed to the sweat, so although we had met the three people who ran the event, Neil, Jeff and Kathy, the rest were new friends and soon to be companions on a wonderful journey. We were settling down upon cedar boughs, inside the sweat, as eleven stone brothers were being passed in, each to a chorus of "Hau Kola", when Neil, the pipe bearer, announced that this was to be a Warrior's sweat. Raised more than a few eyebrows, I am sure. Very dark, very hot, thank goodness for the glow of our stone friends. The enchantment and magic had begun. At the end of the first round it was announced that any who wished to leave for short break in the river could do so. Only one remained inside. While we refreshed ourselves, soaked bandanas or towels to accompany us for round two, one of the chaps noticed a deer coming out of the river on our side a short distance away. I, as I am sure many, thought what a lovely sign. NOT! As the deer climbed up the low bank everyone noticed it was dragging it's rear legs. Gawd, what kind of omen was this. It was surmised that the deer had been hit on a highway about a mile away, and was trying to return to its bed. Neil called two young native grounds keepers to follow the deer and if possible put it down. We returned to the sweat more than somewhat disturbed. Again settling in, as a few more stone friends were greeted, a voice was heard outside the doorway "Excuse me, my name is Tony. Sorry I am late, may I still participate?" Tony was welcomed and as all peered out the door he set down his crutches and crawled in. Tony was a paraplegic. During round three the pipe was again passed and opportunity was offered to give thanks and request healing. Tony explained that he had driven around, outside the gates to the camp, before having the courage to enter. And because of his legs had to crawl across the boards on the bog, which took considerable time. He again apologized for being late. He also explained that he was a recovering alcohol and drug abuser and lost the use of his legs in a related accident about two years back. He was interested in helping children and was hoping to heal some of his personal wounds at this event. WOW! What else I remember about the sweat seems insignificant, other than I survived. I do remember clawing at the bottom of the lodge wall in desperation during round three and coming to deal with the darkness in round four. Gathering together at the end of the sweat, the two young lads returned from tracking the deer. Neil asked them if they had any success. The told us that they got to within about twenty yards of the deer while it watched them. It then turned and slowly went back into the river to be carried away down stream. The beginning of a magical journey. Tony received his healing. We all received a healing and shared a tremendous love, as we participated in the blessing of and from our Beloved Earth Mother. Neil shared a great deal of wisdom, as did Jeff. Jeff gave me the Eagle down. Kathy was truly an Indian Princess, a Goddess who's dancing and singing around the fire or at the medicine wheel enchanted all. Everyone left that weekend feeling a beautiful bond of love. And overwhelmed with the joy and magic of sharing. I, for one, was never the same again. I hope that you have enjoyed my little tale and felt some of the magic. I Am
Lycanthrophe (view on a separate page) (more articles about else) The beginning, a proud lycantrophe stands on a mountain and cries out
to the world a cry of happiness and joy. The cry is answered and my kind
gathers and reproduces and forms a pack. In the line of blood that came
from the lycantrophes that started the pack, I was born. I am Fahr, a lycantrophe
and a Watcher, but here I write about the lycantrophe I am. My grandfather
was one of the full lycantrophes, so were my sister and I. My mother was
a sleeping lycantrophe who never knew of a being other than human and my
father was human. I found out what I was when I turned six and felt the
irresistible force of the full moon. I hid my feelings, afraid I would
be considered different. When my sister turned six and experienced the
same, she wished not to talk about it, she denied what she was. When my
grandfather came, I suddenly felt calm and when I was seven I found the
courage to discuss it with him. He seemed delighted; a new-born lycantrophe
of his blood, a miracle, and he explained to me what I was and why. From
that moment on I paid attention and I saw I was not alone. A lot of people
around me were just like me and I felt free and I did what I wanted with
my newly discovered side. I was happy, as were all other lycantrophes.
At the time I was nine, there was an argument between one of the leaders
of our pack and someone who knew what we were and blamed us for the death
of a child. The child had been attacked by wild hounds, all evidence was
there, but no one seemed to see it. From that moment on, people paid attention,
and in no time they could pick out any lycantrophe in a row of a thousand
people. The humans learned, learned to see the differences that were there
and they started to treat us different. At that time, the mayor of our
town was a Christian and head of an organization of a church that called
us Satan's children, demons of the night and what's not. They started to
hate us and spread their hatred among the other people. Then at the time
I had just turned ten, five lycantrophes were killed, just like that, killed
and dumped into a ditch. My grandfather was one of them. What reached the
national news was nothing more then the shocking message that two bodies
were found brutally slaughtered and there was no trace of the killer. The
other three bodies never came out of our town, the police force and the
mayor prevented it. At that time all lycantrophes in the police forces
and high positions were fired and also that never left our town. The dead
bodies never were buried within our town, they were taken away and were
left to rot somewhere in a forgotten place. When I howled and cried for
the death of my grandfather, my sister came to me. Not to tell me she felt
bad, but to laugh in my face and tell me she had been wise to deny what
she was. The hatred had got her too, my own sister. My father then was
a strict Christian himself and he had divorced my mother long ago, but
now he wanted nothing more to do with us. The people saw how easy it was
to kill and get away with it and more lycantrophes were killed. Of the
thousand that once formed our pack, about twenty were killed, the rest,
afraid of what might happen, flew to Scotland. But I refuse to leave my
birthplace. I am left here, with about ten others, alone and isolated.
Though the system has changed and a new mayor has taken place, the hatred
remains. And I silently ask myself, are we still in the Middle Ages? Has
the fear of witches and creatures other than human not died out? Didn't
the humans change at all? Would they still burn us if they had the chance
to? Why is something else always considered an outcast? Why? What did we
do to the humans to make them hate us so? I can live here, but I am often
threatened. Still I refuse to leave, refuse to give in, I will not let
them win, I will not let my sister get her right. I will stay!
Translated Text of Third Secret of Fatima (view on a separate page) Forwarded to Project X by Mark Andrews From CNN.com June 26, 2000
VATICAN CITY (CNN) - This is the translation from Portuguese of the famed third secret of Fatima that three children believed they received from the Virgin Mary on July 13, 1917, in Portugal. It was written by the surviving member of the trio, Sister Lucia, in January 1944, and released by the Vatican on Monday. TEXT: I write in obedience to you, my God, who command me to do so through
his Excellency the Bishop of Leiria and through your Most Holy Mother and
mine. After the two parts which I have already explained, at the left of
Our Lady and a little above, we saw an angel with a flaming sword in his
left hand; flashing, it gave out flames that looked as though they would
set the world on fire; but they died out in contact with the splendour
that Our Lady radiated towards him from her right hand: pointing to the
earth with his right hand, the angel cried out in a loud voice: PENANCE
PENANCE PENANCE. And we saw in an immense light that is God: 'something
similar to how people appear in a mirror when they pass in front of it'
a bishop dressed in white 'we had the impression that it was the Holy Father.'
Other bishops, priests, men and women religious going up a steep mountain,
at the top of which there was a big cross of rough-hewn trunks as of a
cork-tree with the bark; before reaching there the Holy Father passed through
a big city half in ruins and half trembling with halting step, afflicted
with pain and sorrow, he prayed for the souls of the corpses he met on
this way; having reached the top of the mountain, on his knees at the foot
of the big cross he was killed by a group of soldiers who fired bullets
and arrows at him, and in the same way there died one after another the
other bishops, priests, men and women religious and various lay people
of different ranks and positions. Beneath the two arms of the cross there
were two angels each with a crystal aspersoium in his hand, in which they
gathered up the blood of the martyrs and with it sprinkled the souls that
were making their way to God. Today's Mail: Alien Visits Ended? (view on a separate page) (more articles about aliens) When I was about seven, but I could have been younger, I remember having
strange feelings like someone was watching me, I had dreams of long bright
flowing lights in an empty space fly by me, this would go on for a while
until one flying light would pass through my head and the pain is unbearable,
I wake up with a one second of the pain and then it disappears, this dream
went on for two months every night.
The last experience has left me a bit bewildered and like a zombie, I was 19 and I was watching a film with my friend Stuart, when this bright light flashed past me and I was on an operating table (metal) and lots of aliens around me, it felt a bit too familiar, I wasn't in pain, I knew who they were or at least I have met them before. Then one came up to me and asked calmly, telepathically, "CAN WE TAKE IT OUT OF YOU?" and without thought I said, "YES", I saw them about to operate and I faded back to the living room to watch the rest of the film; I told Stuart a week later, he believes something happened, but did not see anything in the room. Sorry this was a bit long, please can someone who has had similar experiences, please contact me. Asylum of The Undead: Part IV - The Lady In Red (view on a separate page) (more articles about else) [continued from the previous edition]
Part IV
Some things in life are seen most clearly by the effect they leave behind.
?(to be continued in the next issue) Glenn Scheper's Website (view on a separate page) I am an avid lurker on many lists, and collector of URLs. I rarely contribute,
for my ideas would be called heretical.
Fetch my free text web browser/robot to deal with such a glut!
Closing Words (view on a separate page) "Man [has] always assumed that he was more intelligent than dolphins
because he had achieved so much... the wheel, New York, wars and so on...
while all the dolphins had ever done was muck about in the water having
a good time. But conversely, the dolphins had always believed that they
were far more intelligent than man... for precisely the same reason."
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