Another Green World

2005-10-31T15:54:00.000-08:00

2005-10-23T21:48:00.000-07:00

2005-06-30T18:32:00.000-07:00

2005-06-08T20:13:00.000-07:00

2005-06-01T22:06:00.000-07:00

Farewell, my concubines.

2005-05-16T21:24:00.000-07:00

Xul Solar is over. I have decided to call it a day. I have lost interest, and am pressed for time. It's been fun. Here are a few Xul Solar myths exposed:

1) Xul Solar was once the operative known as Young Atom.
2) Xul Solar and his adventures were complete fabrications.
3) Anja Farber was also a character created by me.
4) Urik Orr and Mr. Furriskey were also fabrications of mine.
5) I nearly got beaten up taking some of those photos of doorways.

Thank you to all the great neurobloggers: Elmo, Avery, Lady J, Constance, Teigan, Tript, Xade, Cheshire Cat, Sub-Xero, et al. There were other bloggers I never got the chance to converse with; Jojo, Delta, Exodus, Midnight, Li, Toby, Random Voodoo et al.

Parting salvos; I never had much time for Beltaine, ever since his hostile, immature stint as RHNC. He now seems to ply his trade by bignoting his supposed profession as a private investigator. I expect he'll read this and stamp his feet saying "but I am a private-eye, I really am a private-eye, and a warlock too".

Luther, I lost respect for him when his 'investigations' lead to charges of me being RHNC. He then started spreading the word to other bloggers without ever even asking me. I suspect that, like Beltaine, Luther is now attempting a proper-neuroblog under the name Yantra.

The most mysterious neurobloggger of all, Dan Pritchard, has some good words to say on the matter of Beltaine's circle.

This blog will stay up for a while, but I will seldom check in on the xulsolar23@yahoo.com.au email account. Leave a message if you feel like it, but I might not get back to you for a while.

All the best,
Xul Solar XXIII

Avery abroad

2005-04-28T00:40:00.000-07:00

An email from Urik early this morning. It wasn't until I checked Avery's blog that I worked out what Urik was referring to.

To: "Xul Solar" xulsolar23@yahoo.com.au
From: "Urik Orr" urik.orr@gmail.com
Subject: Dreams
Date: 28 Apr 2005 11:54:23 -800 (PST)

Xul,

Your Portuguese explorer has announced that he is, indeed, heading for far-away lands. You are showing progress.

Urik.

There is no Dana

2005-04-26T21:27:00.000-07:00

More on The Bunker

2005-04-24T01:29:00.000-07:00

Thanks to Anja Farber for this link. 'The Bunker' Furriskey refers to appears to be a mysterious tunnel dug into the banks of the Merri Creek sometime during the 1940s. It's been speculated that it was constructed by the US Army, and is part of a network of tunnels leading all over Melbourne. Throughout the war it was guarded by US soldiers, but when the war ended the tunnel was concreted in. Now a group of amateur historians and archaeologists are digging through to see what secrets were stored in 'The Bunker'. Why is Furriskey so interested in The Bunker? He claims Neurocam have a keen interest also.

Avery

2005-04-22T22:50:00.000-07:00

Email from Urik, but nothing from Furriskey yet:

To: "Xul Solar" xulsolar23@yahoo.com.au
From: "Urik Orr" urik.orr@gmail.com
Subject: Avery
Date: 22 Apr 2005 17:45:23 -800 (PST)

Xul,

It seems your man Avery Cardoza, the man you dreamt of as a sixteenth century Portuguese explorer, is navigating some treacherous waters at present. The phrases Maxwell Knight passes on are certainly useful to us - "Compound H67T", "Clouds without water", "Retinal Immersion Technique" and "Diversionary Cortex Treatment".

Has Furriskey been in contact yet?

Urik.

Another thing; whilst waiting for a north-bound tram last night, on the corner of Johnson and Smith Streets, I noticed that on every other corner of the intersection stood a man. Each of the three men had a shaved head and strange piercings, and I think they were all wearing eyeliner, though I can't be sure. They were all just standing there. After I noticed them and started darting my eyes between them, a whistle was let forth by one of them and they all quickly dispersed.

The Bearded Men

2005-04-21T09:17:00.000-07:00

I head to the same doorway that Urik lead me to the other night. This time I notice a small intercom. I press the 'talk' button and wait. There is not reply, just a click as the door unlatches. I push through.

I find Urik in the same booth as last time. He's accompanied by two others, both with beards. One has a long thin beard and wears small dark sunglasses. The other has a neat but thick beard, his hair parted on the side. They are all drinking Campari.

"Xul, welcome," says Urik, "these are my colleagues. Don't bother asking their names, for they won't even tell me". I take a seat and find myself sitting in front of a gin and tonic. A quick glance up at the bar and I spot the Munster-esque barman.

"Let me begin" says the thick bearded man. "Urik has told us much about you, Xul, and we feel we have much to impart that you will find useful, but let's first clear a few things up. Firstly, ignore all pagans, wiccans, witches, and other esoteric types, for they know not what they are talking about. Secondly, there are a handful of operatives who you are to trust, for they have connections to you that run deeper than language. Do you understand?"

"I think so" I reply. I try to compile a list of operatives on each side of the fence.

"The pagans, warlocks, whatever they call themselves, they're barking up the wrong tree, but I admit that they're close to the right one, closer than a lot of others". says thin beard.

"What tree?" I ask.

"Tell me Xul, what do you think of the nature of reality?" interrupts thin beard. I think this over for a few moment, a then reply.

"I have often imagined reality as a scab. Remember when you were a child and you fall over and graze your knees and elbows, and eventually a scab would form. Invariably you'd pick away at the edges as the scab began to crack, and beneath would be a gooey layer of plasma. I often think of the world, as we perceive it, is a hard crusty scab. But our reality floats on a unseen layer of plasma, a fluid and much more malleable world".

"That's certainly an interesting analogy" says Urik, "a little disgusting, but certainly beautiful. Imagine if you could pick away at the scab and begin the see the plasma. You wouldn't want to rip the whole scab off, because you'd be sure that what's under there is certainly not pleasant, and besides, you're quite accustomed to the scab and would like to keep some of it there - but your curiosity permits you to remove little corners of it. Imagine if you were able to catch a peek at the fluid reality that exists beneath ours".

I'm lost in thought, hypnotised by the premise he's laid before me. Urik catches my dazed look and pulls my attention back down the Earth. "Xul, this is the very crux of what we're dealing with here. This is what Furriskey's men have been assigned to investigate. The person or people who have hired Furriskey believe that Neurocam has the ability to peer into this reality. Not only that, they're working towards a way of quantifying it, chemically".

"Extreme... Chemical... Solutions" I murmur to myself.

"Well, this is our suspicion" says thin beard. "We believe Neurocam are in the research and development stage of such a product, and that Furriskey, or at least the people who have hired him, are either trying to stop them, or steal the data".

"We would like to meet with you once a week to discuss what Furriskey has asked of you" says Urik, "Would you be up for that?".

I reply that I would, and then remember the email about 'the bunker'. "We're very interested in the bunker too," replies thin beard, "but it's getting late now, and we have places to be. Good evening, Xul".

We bid farewell and I make my way back out to the dingy alley and then head home.

Another meeting with Urik

2005-04-20T10:18:00.000-07:00

An email from Urik...

To: "Xul Solar" xulsolar23@yahoo.com.au
From: "Urik Orr" urik.orr@gmail.com
Subject: Again
Date: 20 Apr 2005 09:13:23 -800 (PST)

Xul,

Tonight. Same place. 9PM.

Urik.

The Bunker

2005-04-19T08:35:00.000-07:00

An email from Furriskey.

To: "Xul Solar" xulsolar23@yahoo.com.au
From: "John Furriskey" j.furriskey@********.com.au
Subject: Bunker
Date: Mon 18 Apr 2005 06:41:23 -8000 (PST)

Xul Solar,

I have been informed that a news article recently appeared in 'The Age' which exposed some of my fieldwork. One of my agents was even included in a group photograph. My chief concern is that Neurocam may have spotted our agent, or at least its suspicions may have been stirred.

Please be prepared to undertake some work for us. You may be required to make your way to 'the bunker' in Westgarth at a moment's notice. We will send you an SMS at the appropriate time.

I will be arriving back in Melbourne on Thursday. I will speak to you then.

John Furriskey
O'Rourke Investigations Ltd.

Meeting with Urik

2005-04-17T02:43:00.000-07:00

I wait on the corner of Little Collins Street and Gurners Lane. At 20:45 exactly a man approaches. He's slim with disheveled brown hair and a slightly odd gait in his stride. He's wearing an tattered overcoat and scuffed leather shoes.

"Xul" he says, "I'm Urik, come quickly". He swiftly turns on his heel and strides off into the night. I launch off after him. We cross Queen Street and turn left into Mackillop Street and then right down a dingy laneway, past a dilapidated van, and up to a doorway even more dubious than the one Furriskey lead me to. I quickly manage to take a photo before Urik is pulling at my sleeve.

Inside is a small, dark bar, with alcoves all over, people talking by candlelight, Antonio Carlos Jobim playing on the soundsystem. Urik leads me to an empty booth and then heads to the bar. He returns and hands me a gin and tonic. Just as I'm wondering how he knew what I wanted, I look up at the bar and see the same Herman Munster-esque barman from my night with Furriskey. He releases a slight smile my way. Urik has bought himself a Campari and soda.

"This is a great bar" I tell him, "I can't believe I've never heard of it - what's it called?"

He replies that it's not exactly open to the public. It's a private venue for a particular group of people, and that it will all be explained in due course. Still, I can't shrug off a feeling that I've been there before. I quickly piece it together and explain to Urik.

"A few years ago I had a dream that I visited these premises. I remember it vividly. The next morning I went looking for it in the place I'd dreamt of, and there was nothing there. Then last night I dreamt about that dream - I dreamt that I never did go looking for the location, but that it was part of the initial dream. Now, I have no idea whether I went looking for it or not. In fact, I can't be sure if I ever had the initial dream or whether I dreamt that I had it last night. A dream of a dream".

"Dreams are not to be discounted Xul." says Urik, "They offer a link to our past and our future". I ask him if he can explain a little more. "When we dream, we are in contact with future and past versions of ourselves who are also, at that time, dreaming. When you dream tonight, there will be past versions of yourself contacting you, a future version of themselves. Inadvertently you will transmit information about yourself to these past selves, just as you will receive information from future selves".

I told him that I don't understand what the messages mean, they seem abstract and irrational. "The connection isn't always clear" he says, "communication takes place in garbled signs, dreams are like convoluted chat-rooms across time, in a language of symbolism and iconography - signs deeply embedded in our subconscious".

"This may seem strange" I say, "but I once had a dream that Avery Cardoza was a sixteenth century Portuguese explorer".

"There will be a purely logical explanation for that" replied Urik, "and I'm sure it will become apparent somewhere down the track".

We discuss the golden age of Portuguese exploration for some time, before moving onto the fall of the Aviz dynasty, Salazar's Estado Novo, and the coup of 1974. Eventually Urik checks his watch and decides it's time we called it a night. "Tonight has been interesting" he says, "I'd like to catch up again, we still have much to discuss"

"But what about the warning you sent me, about avoiding John Furriskey?" I ask.

"Furriskey is away in Monaco at present" Urik replies. "He won't be back until the 21st of April. His men are too subservient to act on their own, so I doubt you'll be at risk before then. We'll catch up again soon, and there will be time to explain more about why we contacted you".

Urik Orr replies

2005-04-16T02:06:00.000-07:00

A email from Urik Orr today.

To: "Xul Solar" xulsolar23@yahoo.com.au
From: "Urik Orr" urik.orr@gmail.com
Subject: Re: I got your message
Date: 16 Apr 2005 15:54:23 -800 (PST)

Xul : You must be wary of getting involved with Furriskey. All is not what it seems. Please meet me on the corner of ******* Street and ****** Lane at 8:45 tonight. I will take you to safe place where we can talk. - Urik.

I have cancelled the other plans I had for this evening, and intend to meet Urik.

Urik Orr

2005-04-12T20:34:00.000-07:00

The mystery deepens. I visited the State Library this morning and located Apocalypse And/Or Metamorphosis by Norman O. Brown. I flipped through looking for a clue and found, in the index, the following imprint:

I have emailed Urik Orr as directed. I'm not sure what to expect here.

Apocalypse and/or Metamorphosis

2005-04-11T16:21:00.000-07:00

It seems the five dollar note puzzle has been solved. Anja Farber suggested that 901 B81A looks like a library call number using the Dewey Decimal System, and I must say I've grown to trust her academic ways, especially following her outing of Beltaine as a plagiariser. Cheshire Cat went further, deciphering "SLV" as the State Library of Victoria, and even identifying the book - Apocalypse And/Or Metamorphosis by Norman O. Brown. I will head to the library forthwith and report on my findings.

The root of all evil

2005-04-10T17:04:00.000-07:00

"I can't accept this mate, it's been defaced". I'm trying to pay for the newspaper at my local newsagent. I fish around in my wallet for another five dollar note, which is frustrating because I'm in a hurry. Finally, on the train, my curiosity gets the better of me, and I rifle through my wallet for the culprit. I was quite surprised to discover the defacement in question was directly addressed to me:

Xul, 4 APR
901 B81A
SLV

I can't recall where this note came from. Who ever does? But I did purchase that gin and tonic the night I met Furriskey, and I do recall taking taking a note in my change. Could the message be from the Munster-esque barman? And what does it mean?

Monaco

2005-04-09T11:01:00.000-07:00

An email from Furriskey arrived today:

To: "Xul Solar" xulsolar23@yahoo.com.au
From: "John Furriskey" j.furriskey@********.com.au
Subject: Absence
Date: Fri 9 Apr 2005 09:11:23 -8000 (PST)

Xul Solar,

I have had to fly to Monaco for personal business. This will cause delays in our plans. You will be contacted the week after next regarding the matters we discussed.

John Furriskey
O'Rourke Investigations Ltd.

More information as it comes to hand.

A beard of stars

2005-04-06T23:08:00.000-07:00

With trepidation I headed towards the corner of Elizabeth Street and La Trobe Street. I had been told the public telephone was on the south-west corner. I lingered on the opposite corner until the appointed time, and then made my way towards the phone, dialed the number, and waited. A calm male voice answered: "Hello Xul Solar, please walk 40 paces west, and turn left into the laneway, then another 40 paces and you will find an establishment on your left. Goodbye".

I glanced around, mindful of being watched. Behind me was a mysterious building with blacked-out windows. Could someone be watching from behind this glass? I followed the directions and found myself on the outskirts of a labyrinth of alleyways. I located the doorway to the ROABGAB City Temple, an unusual choice of venue, I thought to myself. I looked like the doorway hadn't been used for decades, the sign was dated and dilapidated, the entrance strewn with litter and debris.

I entered and saw before me a dim stairwell leading down, faint throbbing music emitting from the darkness. At the bottom of the stairs I find thick, faded red curtains, which I push aside. An man sits at a small table, perhaps in his 60s, slightly overweight, greasy black hair, stubble, an ill-fitting grey suit. His face was certainly not inviting, his eyes weighted by lack of sleep, his thin lips pursed, his brow furrowed.

"You must be Xul" he says to me in a thick Balkan accent. I nod in reply. He unclips the rope barrier and motions me through. Inside, the room is dank and dark, lit by small lamps and the dizzying particles of a mirrorball. There are a sprinkling of patrons at the various booths and tables. I head to the bar. The barman is excessively tall, the shape of his head resembling Herman Munster. He wears a crisp white shirt and crimson tie. I ask him for a gin and tonic. As he fixes my drink he says "The people you are looking for are to the left, behind the palm trees".

I take my drink and head towards the booth behind a bunch of plastic palm trees. As I push aside the fronds, I see a man sitting alone at the table. He is in his late 60s perhaps, white hair specked with black, a neat wispy beard, round rimless spectacles and a waft of cigarette smoke exploring his wrinkled face.

"Xul, please take a seat, my name is Furriskey, John Furriskey" he says in an almost cheerful Irish accent. I slide onto the seat opposite him. He extends his arm towards me and reveals an open packet of cigarettes. It's a brand I'm not familiar with; Amber Leaf. He catches my quizzical look and proclaims "The finest cigarettes in Ireland". I accept his offer. He leans forward to light me.

"Mr. Solar, do you know why we've asked you here?" he inquires. I reply that I don't, and to be honest I thought it would possibly be a stitch up by some nutcase like Beltaine. "Xul, do you know what or who Neurocam is?". Again, I reply that I don't.

"Some take Neurocam to be a game, or an art project, and in a way they are almost right. The truth about Neurocam runs deeper than that. The assignments might seem like fun, like make-believe cloak and dagger, but there is a more ominous purpose to them. I cannot reveal any more at this point, suffice to say that you have chosen well to remain on the sidelines and not get involved".

I ask him who he works for, and what his interest in Neurocam is. He replies that he works for O'Rourke Investigations, who have been contracted to uncover certain facts about Neurocam. I ask him why he needed to meet me. "We would like you to undertake some work for us. You seem to be in contact with a number of operatives, and have somewhat gained their trust. At present, we simply require your acceptance. Think about this over the next few days. We will be in touch next week".

I swig down the last of my gin and extinguish my cigarette. We shake hands and I'm ushered out the door by the Balkan man. Back out onto the glistening streets, I begin my journey home, my head swimming in confusion.

A response

2005-04-04T16:41:00.000-07:00

A reply from Mr. Furriskey. Firstly, he mentions that he did not appreciate his correspondence being made public, and asks that if I must divulge information about our impending meeting, that I do it with discretion. The finer details will therefore be omitted.

On the agreed date, at the agreed time, I am to make a telephone call from a specified public phone. I will be given details on where to head from there, and have been warned that I will be under surveillance during this time. I am to attend the meeting alone, and am not to contact anybody during my journey from the phone to the venue. The phone number, I have been told, is an temporary anonymous number and will only be active within a five minute bracket of the agreed time (to allow for discrepancies between watch-settings, apparently).

This is all I can tell you at this stage. I am certainly intrigued, and am pondering whether this meeting will be worth the obvious risks involved. It is certainly worrying that I will be off Yellow Door's radar during this. Nevertheless, I doubt I will be in any danger - if Furriskey shares concerns for the safety of Tigermoth, I can't see how he would hold animosity towards me.

You stepped out of a dream

2005-04-03T08:49:00.000-07:00

A curious email arrived this morning:

To: "Xul Solar" xulsolar23@yahoo.com.au
From: "John Furriskey" j.furriskey@********.com.au
Subject: Important news regarding Operative Tigermoth
Date: Sun 3 Apr 2005 23:03:23 -8000 (PST)

Xul Solar,

Your silence is deafening. We have things to discuss with you. Concerns have been raised for your Tasmanian contact, Operative Tigermoth. Please advise us of a suitable evening to meet. We will provide a location.

John Furriskey
O'Rourke Investigations Ltd.

What intrigues me about this email, as opposed to the wealth of messages I get from attention-seekers and nutters, is that this person has offered to actually meet. I have advised Furriskey of my availability, and will report back if any more comes of this.