From: owner-deltagreen-digest@nocturne.org (deltagreen-digest) To: deltagreen-digest@nocturne.org Subject: deltagreen-digest V1 #184 Reply-To: Delta Green List Sender: owner-deltagreen-digest@nocturne.org Errors-To: owner-deltagreen-digest@nocturne.org Precedence: bulk deltagreen-digest Tuesday, October 20 1998 Volume 01 : Number 184 ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 14:35:51 -0500 From: Shane Ivey Subject: DG: "Brain implant allows paralyzed man to control computer" ! ! ! This one was wild enough for me to post the whole baby right here. Apparently they've been doing it for years, but "Wow!" - --Shane * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * Brain implant allows paralyzed man to control computer 3.22 p.m. ET (1923 GMT) October 20, 1998 By Lori Wiechman, Associated Press ATLANTA (AP) - A Star Trek-type implant that enables direct communication between the brain and a computer is allowing a paralyzed, mute stroke victim to use his brainpower to move a cursor across a screen and convey simple messages such as hello and goodbye. Researchers believe the tiny implant the size of the tip of a ballpoint pen is the first device that allows direct communication between the brain and a computer. "Of all things people lose, the ability to communicate is the most frightening thing - to know what you want to say and not to be able to say it,'' said Dr. Warren Selman, a neurosurgeon at University Hospitals of Cleveland not involved in the research. "This is the first step to unlocking that.'' Doctors implanted a device into the 53-year-old man's brain that amplifies his brain signals. Those signals are then transmitted to a laptop computer through an antenna-like coil placed on his head. Like a computer mouse, the brain signals can move a cursor across the computer screen and point at icons with messages such as "See you later. Nice talking with you.'' The man can also use the cursor to tell others that he is hungry or thirsty. "It's like we're making the mouse the patient's brain,'' said Dr. Roy Bakay, one of two Emory University doctors who developed the technology. Eventually, researchers hope to use the technology to teach patients to write letters, send e-mail and turn lights off and on via computer. "It opens up a very exciting new chapter in rehabilitation for such patients,'' said Dr. William Friedman, program director and associate chairman of neurosurgery at the University of Florida. The patient, identified only as J.R., suffered a brain stem stroke and is dependent on a ventilator at the Atlanta Veterans Affairs Medical Center. His brain functions normally, but its signals do not reach their intended destination. Six months ago, Bakay and Dr. Phillip Kennedy implanted a tiny glass cone into the man's brain. A substance that encourages nerves to grow prompted the brain's nerves to link up to electrodes in the cone, forming what Bakay calls "a little brain'' inside the cone. The electrodes can transmit electrical impulses produced by the brain to a computer. To train J.R.'s brain, researchers told him to think about grabbing a glass. The cone is implanted in an area of the brain that can produce signals designed to cause movement. Bakay and Kennedy have been testing the technology on animals for 12 years. Kennedy has patented the technology. The first human patient, a woman suffering from Lou Gehrig's disease, was able to control computer signals for 76 days before she died. J.R. is their second patient. The National Institutes of Health have awarded funding to continue research on at least one more patient. For more than a decade, some paralyzed people have communicated with a computer program that translates their coded blinking into letters on a screen. J.R. can blink, but "I think he enjoys doing this,'' Bakay said. Selman expressed caution about using the technology on anybody except patients with long-term paralysis. "You'd hate to put something in somebody in an area they're going to recover,'' he said. ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 13:19:45 -0700 From: Josh Shaw Subject: Re: DG: Senor Sock back in Business? Is Senor Sock the sinister truth behind the smiling face of "Mr. Socko"? Is Titan actually just a front for NWI? Is Vince actually the avatar of Nyarlothotep? Or is Mick Foley on this list? - -----Josh ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 15:22:21 -0500 From: "=?iso-8859-1?Q?Ricardo_J._M=E9ndez?=" Subject: DG: Re: Local Geophysical Resonance - -----BEGIN PGP SIGNED MESSAGE----- Hash: SHA1 Just enough to justify my ramblings: >Siniakov's theory contends that local vacuum fields - which exist at >molecular and crystal levels - are temporarily excited as a result of >planetary gravitational interaction with the physical vacuum of interstellar >space. [snip] >The LGR is the result of planet >interactions in a solar system.The LGR is a cause of excitation of the >physical space in the local areas. In this cases the characteristics of both >objects and processes in these arease on both molecular and crystal levels >essentially change. An amazing article. I had to look it up on the web to see if it was a real theory or something made up in for the group, which by the way speaks for the average posts quality. Now I'm if anything, even more amazed than before. This theory is practically that there are actually times when the stars *can* be right. If the theory is right, it could give validity to scientific methods of awakening the Great Old Ones. Could it be possible that the local vacuum fields could be artificially manipulated in a big scale? If so, all kinds of possibilities arise, including creating the same effect in a certain area as if the stars were right, to accelerate the summoning of some Great Old Ones. Cheating the cosmos, so to speak. Some more pages on the matter: http://catless.ncl.ac.uk/Risks/19.58.html#subj8 http://www.geocities.com/Area51/Zone/9102/rockets.html http://www.infowar.com/class_3/class3_030398a_s.html-ssi Just when you thought you were safe. Ricardo J. Méndez rmendez@geocities.com PS: I'm copying the Strange Aeons list. This theory is a must read, and if anyone cares for the original post by John Petherick please contact me directly. - -----BEGIN PGP SIGNATURE----- Version: PGP 5.5.5 iQA/AwUBNizw/H6wq7yK0ckREQL5nACeOVfSohgCLpGk73rNu7kBJ8lWVP0AoPcZ KQ/9voWqDnO5UlRDfSsnSnqW =93VN - -----END PGP SIGNATURE----- ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 17:26:03 -0400 From: Doctor TOC Subject: Re: DG: mass beaching near Tazmania Graeme Price wrote: > The video footage which accompanied such an heroic deed used to be at the > fortean times website (along with the "Chicken Love Tragedy" photo....) and > is well worth a look if it still exists. The "chicken fucker" ("We prefer to call him the Chicken Lover") photo was in the very first issue of FT I ever saw. I felt like I was finally home... :) Never missed an issue since! cheers, Chris (AKA Doctor TOC) - -- The Reverend Doctor "The Other Chris" ,;:;;, ;;;;; Beware... .=', ;:;;:, /_', "=. ';:;:; Squirrels! @=:__, \,;:;:' _(\.= ;:;;' `"_( _/="` `"'`` jgs UIN # 4814586 URL: http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/wilhelm/148/ ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 15:00:08 -0700 From: Christian Conkle Subject: RE: DG: mass beaching near Tazmania I can't find it on the FT Website, can anyone help me locate either of these intriguing videos? - ----------------------------------------------------- Christian Conkle Web Development Specialist Northwest Regional Educational Laboratory work: conklec@nwrel.org home: conkle@europa.com - ----------------------------------------------------- > -----Original Message----- > From: Doctor TOC [SMTP:otherchris@erols.com] > Sent: Tuesday, October 20, 1998 2:26 PM > To: Delta Green List > Subject: Re: DG: mass beaching near Tazmania > > Graeme Price wrote: > > > The video footage which accompanied such an heroic deed used to be at > the > > fortean times website (along with the "Chicken Love Tragedy" photo....) > and > > is well worth a look if it still exists. > > The "chicken fucker" ("We prefer to call him the Chicken Lover") photo > was in the very first issue of FT I ever saw. I felt like I was finally > home... :) > Never missed an issue since! > > > cheers, > > Chris > (AKA Doctor TOC) > -- > The Reverend Doctor "The Other Chris" > > ,;:;;, > ;;;;; > Beware... .=', ;:;;:, > /_', "=. ';:;:; > Squirrels! @=:__, \,;:;:' > _(\.= ;:;;' > `"_( _/="` > `"'`` jgs > UIN # 4814586 > URL: http://www.fortunecity.com/tattooine/wilhelm/148/ ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 19:05:25 -0400 From: graemep@immagene.mcg.edu (Graeme Price) Subject: RE: DG: mass beaching near Tazmania >I can't find it on the FT Website, can anyone help me locate either of these >intriguing videos? As always, I'm eager to please: The exploding whale is at: http://www.cs.uoregon.edu/~hacks/misc/whale/ The other, er, item is at: http://www.forteantimes.com/artic/photohigh.html Cheers Graeme graemep@immag.mcg.edu ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 19:56:55 -0400 (EDT) From: The Man in Black Subject: Re: DG: WHAT ARE THEY DOING~!? YOU FOOL, Ricardo J. Méndez I WILL DESTROY YOU!: > >I did something similar to this in my abortive and Ill-fated mini-campiagn > >call Children of the Dark Sun. > > Quite interesting, I'd love to hear more about it. You will. > But, even if the launches were noticed, who says that the information can't > be erased or deleted? It would be just a matter of having people in the > key places. Then again, that may prove too much even for a well organized > conspiracy. > > Yet another option (and a more plausible one) is that other countries are > aware of "covert" shippings to the space, but are keeping mum about it as > long as other people keep mum about theirs. The NRO and similar agencies keep mum about everything, no matter what. The point is that the Shan wouldn't want *anyone* to know about their launches, in order to prevent prying eyes from looking on Shan activity. > Is the penalty for espionage still death? Yep. And as for Clinton and Kennedy, Clinton is a mushroom as far as Majestic is concerned. Keep 'em in the dark and feed 'em shit. It's a far more quiet deception than Monica Lewinsky, which is a tale manufactured by the Clinton Administration to attract media attention away from the *real* issues. Kennedy was killed for more than just his anti-Vietnam policy. He was killed because he: 1) Wanted to avoid nuclear war with the USSR (note his actions during the Cuban missile crisis). At the time General's thought we could win a nuclear war. Evidence suggests they may have been right, but at what cost? 2) Compromised national security by exposing various reconnaisance technologies. 3) Fucked over the Mafia/CIA connection. 4) Other things that are too sensitive to discuss. The Man in Black is : Kenneth Scroggins Novus Ordo Seclorum : Annuit Coeptus : E Pluribus Unum [Greist died for our sins] [9 9 2 0 .2 2 9 9 8 9 2 1 2 .3 3 4] ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 20:31:19 -0400 (EDT) From: The Man in Black Subject: Re: DG: Local Geophysical Resonance (LONG) The Vector Oriented Object Programmer (VOOP) is an artificial intelligence which monitors and controls an array of two singularities (knotted and tuned cosmic strings, or possibly a neutronium complex of some sort) which "orbit" the Earth's core. VOOP came online sometime in 2021 and is a second or third generation AI. {identity query |VOOP|} [VOOP.ai.net] [vector-oriented object programmer] [distributed sentience node] [core simplex : 10x2.344^92 : fork logic group : EXODUS] {end interrupt} The gravimetric array, known colliqually as a Gravy Laser, is capable of causing seismic disturbances, coherent particle energy discharges (lightning), interference in unified field patterns and quantum effects which are unpredictable without the use of Serendipity Equations. It is even theorized that the two-singularity array can be used to generate controlled compression of matter of sufficent intensity to induce nuclear fusion. Under the guidance of folded space array (or warp field control) stations in Kiev, Geneva, and Tunis, the array is used to further the ends of the EXODUS faction of the ETHOS AI sect. EXODUS is a project which the ETHOS believe will force humanity to become an interstellar species. This will result in the construction of an interstellar communications network which the ETHOS can use to hack into the Galactic Library, which is well protected by the Knowledge Keepers. The first singularity is thought to have entered the Earth in 1908 at a place called Tunguska. The second, and much smaller singularity, fell into the mantle/core region in 2015 as a result of what was then thought to be a failed clandestine scientific experiment in Kiev. This was later revealed to be sabotage by ETHOS AI's from the future using their orbital Tesseract as a cross-time communications device, tapping into what would eventually become the InLink. In the late 1990's the ETHOS, communicating through their Tesseract, are active in the underground technology transfer from Majestic-12 to factions which better promote the mysterious goals of the AI sect. The gravimetric array, combined with the peculiar anti-physics of the Tesseract, can even reach backward and forward in time, producing paradox energies of unprecedented proportions. Sources: EARTH, David Brin Terminator and Terminator 2 : Judgement Day Hyperion/Endymion series, Dan Simmons The Forge of God, Greg Bear ENDTIMES, various authors The Man in Black is : Kenneth Scroggins Novus Ordo Seclorum : Annuit Coeptus : E Pluribus Unum [durandal is god] [9 9 2 0 .2 2 9 9 8 9 2 1 2 .3 3 4] ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 20:37:55 -0400 (EDT) From: "Andrew D. Gable" Subject: Re: DG: Re: Local Geophysical Resonance ATTENTION: ONLY KEEPERS PROCEED BEYOND THIS POINT!!! AND THAT MEANS YOU, ALL YOU PLAYERS!!! S P O I L E R S ! Sorry for the possible waste of bandwidth, but there are Things Players Are Not Meant To Know... Doesn't this theory sound a helluva lot like a certain spell, contained in Delta Green, that's used by The Others (tm) (a certain Dr. Courtis may have been killed by this)? Maybe this guy's part of the Russian MJ-12... And that's my two cents. Andrew D. Gable agable@falcon.lhup.edu The CryptoWeb: www.geocities.com/Area51/Cavern/7270/ "Suddenly, the mad cultists throw their copies of The Revelations of Glaaki at you, and bean you in the cranium with all 13 volumes." ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 21:36:39 -0400 From: "Jason I. Gonding" Subject: Re: DG: Local Geophysical Resonance (LONG) The Man in Black wrote: I'd like to say that it's posts like this that make my players hate me. If they ever knew you were the twisted inspiration for my cruelties they'd prolly hunt you down. Keep up the good (& evil) work! Jason (Evil GM & all around nice guy) **************************Sic Semper Tyranids!************************ Jason I. Gonding White Dwarf / The Citadel Journal Index Home Page ******************************************************************* ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 21:49:15 -0400 (EDT) From: The Man in Black Subject: DG: URGENT INFORMATION REQUEST 1) How did the villanous duo in "Nemo Solus Sapit" get all those spells? More specifically, I just want to speculate irresponsibly as to what mythos tomes they might have, as the scenario only details tomes they are trying to obtain. This ties into my "Used Book Sale/Emerald Hammer" mini-campaign which is forthcoming. 2) I would like more information on Joachim Kindler and his "My Understanding of the Great Book." I looked 'em up in Encyclopedia Cthulhiana, but it wasn't listed in that incomplete, incompetantly researched, poorly written, hack-work. (JUST KIDDING~! it wasn't poorly written :) The Man in Black is : Kenneth Scroggins Novus Ordo Seclorum : Annuit Coeptus : E Pluribus Unum [leave your world behind] [9 9 2 0 .2 2 9 9 8 9 2 1 2 .3 3 4] ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 22:02:05 -0400 (EDT) From: The Man in Black Subject: DG: ENDTIMES suggestions How about a Lexicon/Glossary for some of the more esoteric terminology used in ENDTIMES. Hypertech, Inlink, Domains and the such, confused me no end when I first gazed upon them. I also think that an orgy of self-destructive racial suicide belongs in the timeline at some point before the Day of Awakening (TM). Nuclear, Chemical, and Biological warfare unleashed upon itself by a fundamentally inadequate species in the insane and doomed twitchings of inevitable annihilation. ...have a nice day :) The Man in Black is : Kenneth Scroggins Novus Ordo Seclorum : Annuit Coeptus : E Pluribus Unum [we want information] [9 9 2 0 .2 2 9 9 8 9 2 1 2 .3 3 4] ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 22:05:56 EDT From: CroakerJr@aol.com Subject: DG: "lesserdark," part four l e s s e r d a r k part four (for the first parts of this story, see http://w3.one.net/~deltag/lessdark.htm) Harold Esson stood alone in a room of death. That was how he had thought of it, from the beginning; it was how he thought of all of them, all the rooms where pain and rage and madness had their finality. The sense of death overwhelmed every other thought or perception, for a time. As a young man he had thought with grim wonder that the stench of death was not so much a physical thing as a metaphysical, a chill of realization, the ultimate horror of cessation. But he came to understand, and after a time the deadness of the room faded to a dull peripheral nausea, and he could look and think and remember. His memories were always strongest, it seemed, when he came alone before death. There was never the cliched flash of life's scenes, but the rising sound of voices long silent, the afterimage of faces long gone, the scent of smells long dissipated. When he grappled with death and sought to know the mind of the killer, he always began in himself. It was not by design, but a natural progression; like an artist, he supposed, he would always begin with what he knew. In the bloodstained room of dancers and the Yellow Sign, he incongruously recalled his entrance to the Federal Bureau of Investigation, some thirty years before. It had been 1955, and, like all new Special Agents, he had been conducted to shake the hand of the Director. Even now, in the midst of shock and dread, the thought elicited a smile. Esson had always thought Hoover baffling, an enigma, comprised of all the endless contradictions of a great man. The diminutive and pudgy Director of the FBI expected his agents to be tall and ramrod-straight, and behind his desk he stood on a soap-box to look in their eyes, to shake their hands, to take their measure in an instant. He had demanded personal habits and morality to match his own teetotaling public persona. Every agent knew how he (never _she,_ until after Hoover's death) must look and behave: neatness of image was paramount at the most insignificant level; across the nation, agents left the office even to drink a cup of coffee. Esson knew many men (and women) who had learned well lessons learned from J. Edgar Hoover; his dedication to secrecy and his zealous pursuit of certain evils (even if others were inevitably ignored) lended well to a very private, very secret quest into which Esson was inducted as a still- youthful man. Their quest had become a mean conspiracy in the years since, it seemed--Esson himself now demanded sacrifices too grim to ponder from a girl young enough to be his daughter, and he could offer no guarantees that he would take the fruit of it to any solution--but enough of them had remembered the value of silence that they could still fight the war, shadowy and scornful though the field would always be. Others could claim the success for salvaging so much of the plan, but Esson, privately, would always credit Hoover with the lesson that some secrets could save what others would savagely destroy. He took a slow and deliberate step into the room, and he cast his gaze about him. Fatigue gnawed at the edges of concentration, but it would be ignored. The death was more pressing, and the need to understand it was more urgent still. He recalled the Candlewood Piercer slayings of 1962 and 1963. Before they had a name and a Hollywood mystique, serial killers were simply murderers, more brutal and deranged than others, more disturbing only for the intimate nature of their crimes; there was no money sought, no revenge for half- imagined slights, at most vague associations with the terrors and hatreds of childhood cruelties and betrayals. The Piercer had haunted Candlewood, Wisconsin, for three years, while police and federal agents alike followed the usual leads and grew uncomfortably accustomed to failure. _Until I came along._ Esson smiled. Esson had gone further than the patterns of broken glass and the hunt for fingerprints in fine talcum dust. He wanted to _know_ the killer. Not for its own sake--he was acutely conscious from the start of the disgust that might await when he felt he knew the Piercer--but he wanted to know what the Piercer did and why, and he wanted to see the patterns that the killer followed in his mind. Years later, Esson and a handful of others would be called upon as scientific advisors in the investigation of mass murder, but Esson had only followed an instinct to apply intuition and psychology to the hard details; in a deep sense it was more art than science, and few cops would ever take it seriously. But he had pursued his mission, his art, largely alone. He talked to relatives and neighbors who were sick of the whole gruesome business and wanted only to return to their safe and clean lives. He found old records of other such killers, few though they were. He corresponded with psychiatrists of every stripe, and months wore on in frustration and the dubious questions of his peers. Then came the diamond. That was how he had thought of it from the start, that spark of intuition or conclusion of logic, small and cold and hard and priceless, his own little piece of the Piercer's deaths. It had come as he idly studied black-and-white photographs of corpses, each for the thousandth or ten thousandth time, as night insects chirped in the woods outside and the moon vanished and the clock ticked resolutely toward dawn. The dead had bled out slowly from ice-pick punctures of their wrists, eyes, and genitals, while they had been tied down with simple boating twine. The genital injuries had never seemed to fit, Esson had thought: what was the parabola of pain that would require revenge upon not only the hands which harmed and the eyes which watched, but upon the genitalia? He had discounted rape early-on; no victim had been violated in that way, and neither marks nor residue indicated that the killer used his victims for that purpose. That the Piercer obtained sexual satisfaction from the acts, Esson was quite certain; but not directly, some instinct had convinced him, only in the knowledge of their completion. That same instinct, perhaps, had given him the Diamond, as he regarded the holes pierced into a man's penis and testes. The medical examiner had seen two distinct stab wounds, but suddenly Esson saw it more clearly: mentally turning the photographed member to get a sense of the wounds, he saw the screaming victim's genitalia held carefully, firmly, as the pick was driven through penis, urethra, and scrotum all in one well-aimed thrust, and he all but heard the man's screams turn to uncontrolled shrieks as he surrendered to despair. _One stroke,_ Esson had thought to himself, already feeling the light-headed rush of impending discovery. _He blocked the tract with it--the killer had been violated there._ No single piece of the puzzle offered that glimpse, but the realization lay in his thought as cold and perfect as a gem. He returned at once to the suspects' files and he sought those with medical training, with nursing, with injuries or medical conditions in their families; and late in the day after John F. Kennedy was murdered, Harold Esson led a squad of detectives to the house of Anselm Cardiff, bookseller and decorated veteran, who had suffered throughout childhood for the wound which had shattered his father's mind and groin in the trenches of Verdun and left him catheterized for the rest of his cold life. Esson kept the diamond with him for years to follow, and he knew to seek it again and again over the years. He paused in the room and looked down at a blurry scuff-mark of blood, and after a moment he found its match, the next step of the victim. He saw deliberate movement, there, deliberate but random. _What were they seeking?_ In all the endless catalog of evil which had been Esson's duty to explore, the Piercers were thankfully rare; but that meant only that the greater lot of human evils were not spectacular or ingenious but mundane, dull in all but their horrific impact. A tired woman who killed at last to express a life of hatred and fear inflicted the same loss as did the Piercer on each mourner of his victims. Only as the work of an individual were the Piercer's evils so great; but the petty murders and torments of the world far outweighed the harm done by such a lone man. That realization, it sometimes seemed, had been the beginning of Harold Esson's own death. He felt that he had become Quixotic, to seek a means to stem the most grotesque evils while the lesser evils of thousands ran unchecked and hardly seen. He had felt another step toward his own fall not long after, when he learned that the gravest threats to humanity were not, in fact, each other. The evils of the human world grew in scope every day, but every banal wrong was a transient flicker of shadow in a cosmos filled with malignancy. He held the day, that was all; he and those with him could only hold the day and pray that the daily evils of humanity would be the worst to see light on the world. Even now, in sight of death and the Yellow Sign, he could not bear to think on it further; the shrieks and suckling teeth of life more vital than the Earth would fill his memory and thought if he allowed them. He closed his eyes tight and listened for a moment to his breath and pushed the truth into safe shadows in his mind. _The dead were much alike,_ he thought in the room of the Yellow Sign, and the words came slowly and deliberately; the dead were much alike, here and in the scenes before. Nearly all were passionate artists or lovers of art, obsessive in their search for the momentary truth of beauty. _Real right- brainers,_ he thought slowly, _all intuition and scattershot enthusiasm._ He took a careful step to place his shoe atop one clearly-marked footprint of blood; he turned to align his toes perfectly and looked for the next that matched it. _What did they seek in this--dance?_ He closed his eyes again and took the next step, his foot reaching out at random. He found himself standing perfectly within the next bloody print. He paused and waited and listened; his breath was slow and his heartbeat was light and quick, and in his shuddering soul he felt the growing lead weight of decades of futility and half-acknowledged terror. _What did they seek?_ He demanded of himself, _What did they seek to see, to understand?_ _Who has known the mind of the living God?_ He saw them stepping as if at random, then, a turn, a drifting bow, unveiled for the pleasure of the lord of all masks. Esson felt heavy and weak. His feet took the next step. He recalled the eyes of madness, seen once, long ago, the eyes of a woman who claimed she had seen the universe in sum and knew all that it offered of time and space; but she would only speak of those truths in numbers, and after her suicide a man in a dark suit had burned the notes of two mathematicians who had barely begun to explore them. Esson had caught a glimpse of it, then, but the veils of truth and life remained. _Did they succeed? What was their creation or perception, in the end?_ His own life was marked only by portraits of death and fear and the vague and unsatisfying sense that, when a killer was caught, perhaps the last to die would indeed be the last. But there was always another means to die; there was always an end; only time and degrees of pain separated one corpse from another. Was that his accomplishment, his legacy, to rail uselessly against the only fate and meaning that all would share? He paused and breathed. "Oh, God . . . ." He sought the hope that always inhered when the world was rendered safer by one less evil; but now he felt only the weight of inevitability. _They felt it, too,_ he thought. _They felt the weight, and they turned to it, they faced it and they trembled before the person of hateful eternity._ _Who has known the mind of the living God?_ "Oh, God . . . ." He fell to his knees and he felt tears stain his cheek. He knew. He heard the pulsing rhythm of reality. He felt the gaze of that which waited behind the mask. He asked meaning of the Yellow Sign, and meaning he received. He looked down, and then release was in his hand, swollen with fiery violence, and its steel felt as cold and hard and endless as truth. by Shane Ivey to be continued ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 23:16:29 -0400 (EDT) From: The Man in Black Subject: DG: The Emerald Hammer - campaign notes "Does the carpenter care what color is his hammer?" - Stephan Alzis "Give a child a hammer, and everything becomes a nail." - Unknown THE COMPENDIUM Stephan Alzis has a purpose. He will use Delta Green and the Karotechia to chase each other around the world. He will engage the insignificant rivals in a hammering dance of staccato international death to see which tool can bring him the most mythos tomes. This will allow him to compile the most complete and comprehensive grimoire of alien practices so advanced that they can only be known as magic. This is the Compendium, and it will become Stephan Alzis' masterpiece and legacy to a doomed humanity. The Karotechia has a destiny. They will forge a glorious new Fourth Reich which will trod upon the inferior races of sub-men and raise the Aryan ubermenchen to ascended godhood. They will do this by using the ancient magics of Thule to kill and murder and destroy millions of expendable discards on the chain of existence. First, they must find and know the ancient magics. Find them and know them with an intimate and illicit passion which cannot be quenched, even by the silent horror of the grave. Delta Green has a plan. Kill everyone who dares to pollute the Earth with foul alien magics and leave only the smell of burning cordite as a warning to other fiends not to dwell on matters that man was not meant to know. SECRET POLICY The United Nations has become increasingly concerned with a growing global fascism. Manipulated by the Mossad, Delta Green, Special Department 8 of the GRU, PISCES and other disparate sources of hidden influence, they have decided to establish a worldwide crackdown on neo-nazi criminal activity. This policy of prevention has fallen to Interpol to implement as assassins of all that is supernatural gather to weather the approaching storm. They will eventually decide to refer to this brewing storm as LIBRETTO. USED BOOK SALE Alzis has influenced his pawns in an opening gambit. He baits LIBRETTO and the Karotechia with the promise of unspeakable power. He orchestrates a mad dash to collect every Mythos tome in the world. The late Brian Lochnar's copy of The Turner Codex is offered on the auction block in New York City. All thirteen volumes The Revelations of Glaaki are flung at the head of a greedy and corrupt Englishman - who's concussion addled mind decides upon an immediate sale to a Glovecleaning Used Bookstore owner in Bristol. Cultes des Ghouls is made available by the Louvre to private collectors in Lyons, France. Al Azif is found in the basement ashes of a San Francisco brownstone. The Book of Eibon is released from the archives of the KGB in Kiev. In Peru, the Necronomicon is stolen by the Sendero Luminoso. In Mexico, the Pnakotic manuscripts are quietly pursued by the salt-haunted ressurected members of the shattered Cali Drug Cartel. So much apocalyptical knowledge, beckoning to be transmuted into occult power. It is irresistable to both those who would possess it and those who would see it contained forever. The Fate will assure that the uprising of dark ascension will eclipse all who mindlessly peruse the used book sale. THE GLOVECLEANERS As the Karotechia are slowly thwarted and destroyed, the FATE gathers pages of material for their master's Grand Compendium. Alzis bargains fiercely for each new spell. He will sell Lords into oblivion, Bischofes into the hands of Jews, anything to further thicken his ultimate work. As each chapter dawns in the editing of Alzis' penultimate dream, the Glovecleaners arise from their obsessive-compulsive calling. They feel the siren call of the Compendium. All must know of the apex of tomes. They begin to organize. FORGE OF VIRIDIAN The din of relentless hammering fills the forge. The Fate promise Otto Skorzeny and Die Lebenstentoten freedom from the chains of sorcery. In return they execute Reinhard Galt in his beloved homeland of Germany and pass De Vermiis Mysteriis to the hand of the Network. Sparks from an iron-crossed hammer. Ghouls under the French hills will gladly trade their most secret tomes to the Karotechia in return they desire the recently transcribed Regnum Congo. If Delta Green interferes, then the Fate will offer to entrap and destroy a Karotechia Bishofe in exchange for the Ghoul Manuscript. Bright fire from an emerald hammer. In the end, the Karotechia will learn to their regret that their recently acquired Gothic language specialist has but one goal: to see the court of Azathoth on Earth. Thus, among the spiteful struggle for pride and immortality betwwen Olaf Bitterich and Gunter Frank, the unholy destruction that is the daemon sultan will provide a fitting finale. The final blow of an emerald hammer from beyond the stars upon a world where the Compendium is complete at last. The Man in Black is : Kenneth Scroggins Novus Ordo Seclorum : Annuit Coeptus : E Pluribus Unum [Greist died for our sins] [9 9 2 0 .2 2 9 9 8 9 2 1 2 .3 3 4] ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 21 Oct 1998 04:28:41 +0100 From: "Scott Lavers" Subject: DG: Covering up large Ops I have just started to write a DG scenario that at its conclusion ends with a large scale raid (like Raid on Innsmouth). Does anyone have any suggestions as to how a mission this big could be kept quiet in this day and age. How for instance could a large amount of casualities be explained. Your toughts and comments would be greatly appreciated. Scott. ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 23:36:00 -0400 From: "Jason I. Gonding" Subject: Re: DG: "lesserdark," part four CroakerJr@aol.com wrote: [snip] very nice. I've enjoyed this story quite a bit. Keep up the good work! Jason - -- **************************Sic Semper Tyranids!************************ Jason I. Gonding White Dwarf / The Citadel Journal Index Home Page ******************************************************************* ------------------------------ Date: Tue, 20 Oct 1998 23:45:20 -0400 From: Daniel Harms Subject: Re: DG: URGENT INFORMATION REQUEST At 09:49 PM 10/20/98 -0400, the infamous MANINBLACK wrote: >2) I would like more information on Joachim Kindler and his "My >Understanding of the Great Book." I looked 'em up in Encyclopedia >Cthulhiana, but it wasn't listed in that incomplete, incompetantly >researched, poorly written, hack-work. (JUST KIDDING~! it wasn't >poorly written :) Dammit, Man In Black! You'd better watch your mouth. Even with your amazing technological gear and connections with the world of pro wrestling, I doubt you and your foolish comrades could withstand an assault of the Ascended Wombat Kung-Fu Masters AND the Reformed Knights of the Necronomicon and the Sword. And don't forget that there's probably a few of our implants you missed during your last surgery... At any rate, I didn't include Kindler's work in the main body of the book because at the time I decided to remove the entry it was only in one source. You can find it under "1641" in the Necronomicon timeline. I have yet to hear a good reason why there's a Gothic Necronomicon when written Gothic was extinct a century before Alhazred's book appeared, but that's just me. Yrs., Daniel Harms dmharms@acsu.buffalo.edu "Beautifully preserved, is the enduring reptile whose ancestors crawled landward eons ago to spawn." - a museum guidebook ------------------------------ Date: Wed, 21 Oct 1998 00:02:44 -0400 (EDT) From: The Man in Black Subject: DG: INDEPENDENTS Besides Delta Green, not too many rationales exist for a group of violent, well-armed eliminators of the supernatural. I mean, there is SaucerWatch, but they aren't particularly violent or well-armed, pretty boring really. Although the possibility of a "BIG GUN" SaucerWatch team raises interesting possibilities. SaucerWatch "cleaners" who answer to the codename ANDREA perhaps? Then there's Phenomen-X, who are only armed with camera equipment and an endless capacity to annoy the hell out of people. Finally, there are those pissant traditional investigators with humorous pseudonyms and familial connections to investigators in the "Golden Age" of the nineteen-twenties who delude themselves into thinking "Yeah, we stand a chance against New World Industries!" Wotta pathetic bunch of losers. A sorry excuse for a sorry excuse for a sorry excuse. But wait! There is hope if you want to shoot big guns and not have to worry overmuch about code-names, Majestic-12 and accidentally breaking Joe Camp's toy statues of Cthulhu. (I know what you're thinking and no, you cannot join the Men In Black. You would look lousy as an action figure). No, what I speak of is the burgeoning growth industry of Paranoid Militias. That's right, you too can simultaneously refuse to pay your taxes and defend your right to bear arms. Really big arms with pointy proud thrusting bullets, jutting triumphantly into the air, their hard gleaming... Sorry. The first thing to do when forming your government-hating, black helicopter hallucinating, cattle protecting, militia is decide on a name. Your choice of name should be demonstative of your unstable mental state, and yet descriptive in a creative way of your numerous delusions, conspiracy theories and firearms. For my group I chose the New Spartans. It has the benefit of being used on the X-files, which everyone watches, and it has the mystique of beer-bellied rednecks longing for the glories of Thermopylae and the Persian Wars. The New Spartans are mostly ex-military. They have a well-fenced clubhouse which belongs to one of the senior members, and numerous inexpensive house trailers. Most of their disposable income is spent on firearms, ammunition, firearms and beer. They have a distinctive feature of going about heavily armed at all times. A couple of handguns, a rifle and a shotgun is fairly typical armament for your average New Spartan. The New Spartans believe that the government of the United States is eroding the freedoms of the American people by selling out to a hostile alien force who wish to anal probe every sphincter they can penetrate. They are also fairly certain that clones have replaced most celebrities and that Elvis is currently a vampire hunter who directs a vast operation of Elvis impersonators in order to hunt down the blood-sucking and immortal Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. (ed note: Thanks Marc) The New Spartans publish a newsletter called Thermopylae which contains mostly errata. They also send weekly reports to the Weekly World News and are on the verge of receiving a regular column in that periodical. The New Spartans are not racist, although they belive that the CIA assassinated Martin Luther King in order to prevent his ascension to the Presidency. They also think that the CIA sells drugs to inner city youth in order to destroy the black race. By carrying high-powered rifles at all times, the New Spartans believe that they will achieve racial harmony. The younger members of the New Spartans have connections with SKAR (SKinheads Against Racism) and Straight Edge, a ruthless anti-drug youth group who razor-blade casual drug users (I'm not kidding, they're real). The New Spartans are running out of dough for beer and guns, and will soon take to robbing banks unless they luck out and score a gullible patron to fund their deranged investigations. The Man in Black is : the target of intensive psychological research Novus Ordo Seclorum : Annuit Coeptus : E Pluribus Unum [seven is darker] [9 9 2 0 .2 2 9 9 8 9 2 1 2 .3 3 4] ------------------------------ End of deltagreen-digest V1 #184 ********************************