De Profundis: Dinner in the Shanty

My Fellow Gentlemen

The structure which meet my arrival was as fantastic as farcical.  My mind raced until I murmurs "A Ship" incredulously.  The establishment was once a tall sailed ship now a fixed resident of murky fens upon one face and the paved city cobblestones upon the other.  A stone approach was laid upon the murk to provide egress and entrance.  This itself was no petty task as it appeared the muck swallowed up the stones again and again, forming successive strata until satiated finally allowed for this walk.

I will deem the inward establishment quaint though it was at best rustic and less kindly a shanty.  The walls all reclaimed wood and nautical ornament, recalled the age of sail.  The seaside suspiciously absent from the locale, I avoided the creole lobster stew and contented myself with a phosphate whilst I awaited my hosts.

My detention was short as I was greeted by Crowley's approach.  He descended a stair draped in some fantastically appointed robe.  Its collar radiated the arcs of the sun and lowly glass beads were stitched into the bodice.  He wore a turban upon his head like some wild sultans' crown.  It was all too much for my composure and I regretfully let out a chuckle! This drew an anger of nonesuch fury, I even recoiled within my chair fearing violence to my person.  The many words were sharp and acid tongued oft falling into verses and languages I dreamed only desert insects may understand.

The man calmed some after many minutes of attack, perhaps remembering he had some purpose for me.  The words then were soft almost sibilant and always pushing.  He desired my help in attending one of his many congregants.  I am to attend a society function as a paramore, or some such foolishness.  I agreed if only to escape.  Even now I prepare for the eve with his dame. 

Yours very truly
J.L. Reich

De Profundis: Black Waters and Sumped Shores

My Fellow Gentlemen

The heat of mid afternoon vexes me of late.  These days I am oft to traverse the dark watered byways of the mountain streams.  My hope is for relief with the cool waters origined in high reservoirs. They are a comfort to the weary heat, though company offered is course and yokel.

I fear my sabbatical from matters arcane draws to end.  My rambling have caught the attention of unwanted eyes.  An associate of Crowley who haunts the backwaters has noted my goings and now appears on many of my jaunts.  Even travels far to the east have proven this man intent on following my comings and goings.  Upon invitation I traveled to the observatory to celebrate the installation of the grand refracting lens, again the man stalked my journey.  The serpentine trail to ascent the mountain makes countless spirals and turns in its climb.  The specter was first seen on the third snaking and again well past half of the climb.

I await a wrapping upon my door but my folly was at least well mannered; arriving as a well inscribed letter.  I am advised to find myself in the dreary sea side town of Alviso tomorrow noon.  A brackish sump land even the sea has found sense to abandon, I have no desire for this meeting whomever awaits.

Yours very truly
J.L. Reichl

De Profundis: Dreams of the Sea

My Fellow Gentlemen

Last eve lingered pleasant upon the hedgerows, I awaited a languid night from the veranda.  Of my mind, I desired change and sought only space to allow it to occur. The nagging matters or the expanding beyond were content to dissolve into a Mediterranean clime.  This retreating pleasant was salvation and mount olive my fellows

Sleep would come to me in my books as would dreams, of these I recall only shadows betwixt vaguely remembered fright.  The nagging callers haunted me and found me everywhere.  Should I cast myself upon the wind and fate they would greet me wherever I arrived.  Always established and ingratiate to the new metropoli.  I a stranger even unto myself.

The dark beast and his mentor presented to conspire round robin to vex me.  Though oft the specter was the two intermingled to a single entity of dread.  Dreams of the sea were my sole comfort, I could throw myself into the gyre of its mercy, though even the deeps held something in mind.  The waters wretched me out as bile again and again, and there on the shore my paired spirits awaited.

Yours very truly
J.l. Reichl

De Profundis: A Seaside artist colony

My Fellow Gentlemen

I ramble far and wide, desirous of some release from this encompassing predicament.  Oft I travel the hills alone hoping for moments free from Mathers and Crowley haunting my mind.  I have nearly abandoned my home these past months, which can be attested to by my lack of correspondence.

Some weeks past my attention was drawn to a seaside artists community, south of my estate.  The mounts that lie coastal are a home for a great many religious and artistic sects.  Many driven by some hair brained guru or pastor.  This appeared to be established to ingratiate artists to well held patrons. Most works featuring the sea or the golden hills which are locally prominent.

It has been work of aquatic nature that has my attention wrapped of late.  Many works of dolphins and seals can be had for a paltry sum.  Nearly every studio has depictions of the animals in some medium.  These were banal, it was the cuddle fish which drew my eye.  In the dark corners of a shop I came upon a trio of odd work.  Inquiry told they were the work of the attending artists colleague, who worked in heavy seclusion and sold piece through a select group of friends. The piece was rare and elemental, I thought some ceramic or even jade at times but it was another mineral unknown.

Negotiation was intractable and the purchase was with some financial burden, but it was mine.  My return home has not been without efforts.  The estate was well secured in my absence and well in need of a mustering out.  I was only in spare moment that I placed the sculpture upon my mantle when the bell would return me attentions to the matters I had longed to escape.

Only a calling card but a meeting is expected, one I wish to postpone indefinitely.

Yours very truly
J.L. Reich

De Profundis: The Reservation

My Fellow Gentlemen


The next morrows journey was surprisingly pleasant.  The narrow rail trolley system that travels from the city center to "The Reservation" was enjoyable.  Once disembarkation had completed we were given a tour of the various therapeutic processes available.  Primary of concern were Dietetics and a well developed physical culture followed by hydrotherapy and several more invasive cure-alls.  The dedication to physical well being was of particular distress to my composition.  Even rudimentary exertion proved exhausting.  According to the Kellogg system this is desirable, but how could such torture be?

Other practices appeared equally barbaric, electro-convulsive therapy and the cold water treatment primarily so. It was while inquiring into sulfurous baths we first were given word of Lavinia.  Much of what was said was scandalous.  She seems to have given herself over to the life of the libertine save for caring for Mary D'Este, another of Crowley's entourage.  Yeats indicated the involvement of D'Este more in keeping with nature of the incantations caste requirements. Lavina may have once desired to perform the rites but her more carnal of nature arose.  Many of the guests and staff attested to here advances, gender being of no matter.

Mr. Yeats and I were able to observe D'Este from afar, the large cafetorium provided us both distance and anonymity.  From our point of vantage we were able to detect both Miss King and D'Este.  They maintained a diet a fruit, nuts and seed from what we could discern.  Again Mr. Yeats made careful not of every point.  The dietary crackers and flaked corn was not of my liking; I called for sugar and gave the sample a heavy dusting.

Before retiring home bound we tipped our man handsomely and directed he pen us of Lavinia's further conspiring.  The mention of yet another reward arrived at his immediate confirmation to the request. As Ovid mentioned Gods and Men all can be bought.

Yours very truly
J.L. Reich

De Profundis: Miss Lavinia King

My Fellow Gentlemen

A new day arrives with hope and promise and, like a thief, my new entanglements pilfer it my grasp.  With the morning sun came a wrapping upon my door.  Mr. Yeats was proven to be the original of this call, I am vexed at how familiar these callers have becoming.  No card nor appointment solely a wrapping upon my chamber door.  This must end, I should show these fellows my door and say "Good Day!"  Though that would be unbecoming of a gentleman.

Yeats arrive was with request of another walking tour, though again this was only pretence.  With gratitude the true intent of this journey was revealed.  Mr. Yeats revealed a few of Crowley's devotees had fallen out of the society columns weeks back.  This was as oddity as miss Lavinia King was well know to even those naive to Crowley's mileau.  Miss King was a noted socialite of good bred and old money. It is a wonder the family would allow her to fall in with chums of this low sort.  I suppose Crowley makes target of those well heeled, as means of support.

Our rounds would include several of Miss Lavinia's haunts.  From bookseller to bistro the message was the same, she had absconded months ago.  Vexing for a social person to shun all occasions of the season.  The only clue to be jarred free was from restaurant she had frequented.  The owner mentioned a change of diet and a supposition that she had been visiting a health colony.  She had requested only morels, fruit and  a particular mineral tonic upon her last few occasions.  She was a noted enthusiast of the establishments wine cellar and this turn was a surprise.

The proprietor advised a visit to a camp maintained by a Mr. Kellogg if we were seeking Mr Lavinia.  It was the only natural living society in the proximity so bared investigation.  Again I find myself travelling in the company of Mr. Yeats

Yours very truly
J.L. Reichl

De Profundis: Moonchild

My Fellow Gentlemen


The ongoings with Mr. Yeats were not to be a singular misadventure. The arrived on my doorstep again, Mathers in his company.  This visitation, I confess, was not the most welcomed.  I had hoped to go about my affairs for a day or two without traipsing amongst the hedgerows of phantasmagoria.  These side long jaunts into the darkened lane ways of the city do not sit well with my temperament.

Mathers did feel fit to illuminate the events of my past missive.  Most generally speaking Crowley is a seeker of the profane.  Hoping for enlightenment in the darkest corners of the immortal soul.  The ingestion of distillates and chemicals appear as side roads to enlightenment.  Depraved acts with animals have also factored into his scheme. Even the gross fluids of carcasses play some evil part.

Here though misters Yeats and Mathers pressed upon me the importance of the mundane.  In our previous escapades with Crowley and his servant Yeats paid careful attention to the list of goods required by Crowley.  To my untrained ears he seemed to lay out a shopping list perhaps for bakery. Mathers applied a deeper reading into these items.  Calling out the name Moonchild as though I was to grasp the meaning, Mathers was staggered by my ignorance.

Their explanations were bewildering!  A child or entity ethereal born or cast into this world. Crowley directing this child's progression.  A powerful thing, one would suppose if they are fanning understanding.  I am unsure of my part in Crowleys plan perhaps seed or vessel.  I only hope to remain myself.  Take caution should the Kant of my letters change, I may not be my own.

Yours very truly
J.L. Reich

De Profundis: The White Horse

My Fellow Gentlemen


Yeat's came calling again, in this instance as a singular guest.  He insisted on a strolling tour of the city; focused on the rose garden district.  It sounded a pleasant distract, if puzzling during this cold and dead part of the year.  A call for my coach, my gentleman helped me into my overcoat and we were soon of.

Per Mr. Yeat's request we disembarked upon the far end of the gardens and slowly traversed the many rows of flora.  Eventually coming to a juncture of streets, we paused and Yeats did his best not to appear to be observing the structure in the far corner.  This proved an impractical task as Mr. Yeats is no actor, I quickly questioned him.  Delving into his motives, he revealed the structure was a meeting hall of the knights of Rose and Cross a Fraternal order.  He relayed the construction in the distance of the street was for the preparation of antiquarian museum.  Further that Crowley was involved in no small respect.

I dwelled on information for some time while Yeats pantomimed his disinterest. Soon though he advised we follow a man leaving the warehouse structure.  The pursuit was restrained, following at least a block in distance so to not draw attention.  I found this taxing and was not accustomed to tramping about town as such.  Our gallivanting would arrive in the darker neighborhoods found just south and east of the cities center.  Culminating in a den of ill smoke and darker characters.  It was here we found Crowley, the man leading us to him in this establishment.

The beast, as he would call himself, lounged in half consciousness effected by the poppy and some ruinous blend of spirits.  We were able to observe easily as the man quickly indulged as well.  The spoke at length of preparations.  I took little to nothing but Yeats, noted each word of their requirements.  We made a hasty egress from the business, making our way with some hurriedness back to my coach.

I was alone in my study in less than an hours time, left to ponder.

Yours very truly
J.L. Reich

De Profundis: Christmastide

My Fellow Gentlemen


The hour has gotten away with me!  I find myself near the night of the epiphany with no mention of the Christmastide.  The lords season lifted the burden of these affairs and I breath a little easier.  The crisping of the air and tintinnabulation ringing from every door has been a joy for this weary soul.   Father Christmas lightens even the darkest days.

Even Mathers and Yeats were driven from my doorstep for a time.  They returned upon boxing day like an unwanted present from a distant relation.  Crowley prowls more gentle climes was their message of yuletide.  My gratitude for these words was short lived.  His return would be soon as their were many rites associated with the new year.  Blessing and sanctification of the halls and abbeys his congregation held sway upon.  These workings of magics made several days that were seemingly benign, dark with there works.

Mathers too had work at hand, intermixed with intention to bring me further in his fold. Strange chants were to be memorized for some dark night soon ahead.  Burn's night may be put off this year and I so love the toasting of the mighty pudding chieftain.

Yours very truly,
J.L. Reichl

De Profundis: A pawn against the board

My Fellow Gentlemen

Mathers again came calling upon me.  This conference an inquiry of the eve detailed in my last missive.  The man hung on fine details of the night that seemed minute and of little import to my memory.  Often requiring I speak again and again the phrases and pronunciation Crowley invoked through the dinners many toasts.  It was all esoteric and banal to an untrained minds such as my own; but to Mathers it was of fixing interest.

This magus as he called himself spoke little of the meanings he took, but did reveal some of Crowleys intention.  The feeling of profane interest welling in Crowley was of a craftsman finding a rare and prized material.  Myself being that material as the chaste seldom are attracted to his theosophy.  Mathers revealed something dark was intend for me though what he was unclear.

It was of further distress that I would play into these schemes, or was Mathers Intention.  I was a pawn to be played and could only hope to drive across the board.  It was unsettling to know nothing of the board nor the moves of the other pieces.  Made all the further unnerving to feeling my player didn't have interests in mind.  A pawn against the board.

Yours Very Truly
J.L. Reichl

De Profundis: An Exotic Evening

My fellow gentlemen

The acts participated in Crowleys rites are both foul and depraved.  Barring the haunts that have troubled my residence I would deem his coven nothing more than a love cult.  Couplings unnatural occurred before my eyes! My dismay served more a drool amusement to the patriarch of these affairs, Crowley himself.

The eve began banal in contrast to the events that would follow.  A meeting of various parties discussing the goings of the day.  The wine was pleasant, though Tuscan, and the open grove of trees where this transpired of mild temperament.  A dinning table awaited the quests set with fresh fruit acquired from exotic shores, displayed in a show of opulence.  This was all very unexpected after my visit to the low quarters Mr. Crowly maintained, and I expect a farce of wealth.  The other participants bore the manners of the well breeding and family money.  Though this can also be said of Crowley himself.

The dinning was the first sign of the direction the night would turn.  Many exotic meats were arrayed before me, but most peculiar was a live macaque held in an elaborate wicker box which served to restrain the animals head.  Guest were invited to smash open the poor animals skull and partake of the still warm brain flesh.  I did not indulge myself of these delicacy, faining myself an anti vivisectionist as advised by Mathers. 

This served to only well Crowley's interest.  He grew almost physically excited with my further revealing my chastity as the evening progressed.  His interest at first seemed the yearning to see me defile myself in his revelry, but I began to understand he saw me as a rare tool that could be used.  For what I can only conjecture.

I followed one couple whom left early claiming a weakness to the night air and fearing a chill.  My escape now finds me awaiting Mather and Yeats return to my residence.

Yours very truly
J.L. Reichl

De Profundis: Mather's Arrives

My Fellow Gentlemen


As it happens Mr. Yeats is but a milk toast pawn in this matter as myself.  I was to meet the bearer of his leash the night past.  A wrapping alerted me to my transom where I found Mr. Yeats in a disheveled state accompanied by the Mathers.  Yeat's introduction was high and formal always giving full dictation of Samuel Liddell MacGregor Mather founder and celebrant of the Hermetic Order of the Golden Dawn. I must confess I was taken aback by this Mathers.  His dress appeared an Edwardian approximation of high Egyptian dress and he cared a crosium or crook bound in fragrant flowers. Even in this dead season they appeared vibrant and fresh picked as if taken from the veil of spring.

The issues discussed presented much more detail of the story.  Yeats is but a front for the pair and kept upon an ever shortening leash.  I am too be taken to plow as also befits Mathers will. All of the divine and infernal happenings have been Mathers work.  True Yeats does bear Crowley a bone of contention it is Mathers that writhe with hatred. The two were close bound as a masters and novice in days past.  Now the student seeks to retire the master. 

A constant thorn in this Mathers side was a novel published by Crowley entitled MoonChild.  Therein a character is described woefully which is a caricature of Mathers.  A childish slight for one who would control forces as I have described, though these Magus seem as trumped up children.

Much of the evening informative and instructed me to the inquires I am to make of Crowley when I visit next.  Some small incantations were made most claimed to be balms of protection or other talismans, I can not say.  I feel unaffected but I proceed with this course which surely strives down an unsure path.

Your very truly
J.L. Reichl

De Profundis: My meeting with Crowley

My Fellow Gentlemen


The man is evilness incarnate, or proposes to be.  My evening with Crowley was not what one would have presupposed.  He and his consorts have determined themselves to commit acts of vileness.  I know nothing of their desired outcome but oft I was left to wonder if this was some pantomime for my benefit.   Perhaps even their own is my wonder after the dinner. 

Much of the meal itself was not fit for civilized description.  It was best described as wholly undercooked and primarily organ meats.  The sources were not named as such though I heard some of the cuts described as primate on more than one occasion.

Mr. Crowley described he confrontation with Mr. Yeats in the lucid moments between heroine jags. As incredulous as it seems the mater is over ill reviewed poems.  Or the core of the mater resides there.  I believe that only originated the conflict and it has waxed over years, now festering into open conflict of arms.  It is not mine to resolve and so I shall leave it at that. 

The spectral forces arrayed at Mr. Yeats abode were certainly Crowleys work.  I still am confounded as to whom drew me into this argument.  I only with to extricate myself, but I find myself diving ever further deep.  Crowley wishes me to bear witness to some rite of the season before he is to address the topic more.  I hope I am to witness alone and not participate as a some sacrificial lamb.  I am to again meet with this Beast, as he names himself, in some nights hence.

Yours very truly
J.L. Reichl

De Profundis: I have armed myself

My Fellow Gentlemen


I fear Mr. Yeats grows vexed with impatience.  My estate is again watched by the formless souls I have so oft mentioned.   I fear to venture beyond my door until I venture to visit this Crowley.  Which in stating the name sends a cold chill across my countenance.  There is the very real worry that it is this Alistair Crowley who directs my haunting.  Do I walk as a babe into open jaws?  I see that as a very real conclusion to these events.

I have armed myself as a gentleman might.  My well stropped shaving razor concealed in the breast pocket of my day coat.  A heavy brass knobed cane and a bit of lead added to my gloves.  I pray the matter does not devolve into violence.  I am not well versed in pugilism, queens bury or otherwise.

Perhaps I am best armed with study.  I have found some documentation of this Crowley's travels often wide ranging.  He early studies are up to some conjectures but Samuel Liddel Mathers appears to have played a formative part.  I believe the pair has been cut in twain by personal disagreement of late.  Perhaps that allows an avenue for myself to prosper or find some escape from the predicament.

Hope can be held if none else.  I shall summon what courage I have for this meeting with Crowley.


Yours very Truly
J.L. Reichl

De Profundis: a response unexpected

My Fellow Gentlemen


My efforts have proven successful!  A queer visit was paid to my abode by a Ms. Hirsig, a secretary of sorts for Mr. Crowley.  The woman claims to have traveled with Crowley abroad, specifically mentioning the location of Cefalu, Italy.  The tale she told involved the establishment of a monastic retreat.  Crowley, though is scheduled to return in a weeks time and was well accepting of my request to meet.  Ms. Hirsig even delivered a fine bottle of red as complements of this Crowley.  I find myself more swayed to this man that my less than favorable dealings with Mr. Yeats.

This woman was odd if I am to tell the whole truth of the matter.  She seemed to veil herself in vague affectations of mysticism.  To others this gown of the occult would be ill fitting and childish.  But on she it seemed something felt to the bone.  Lived in and well worn, even thread bare. And in truth their was a wicked or foulness about her.  It was as if chaos and pestilence wormed their way through her flesh.  This abattoir presence lingered long after her egress.

These strange milieu call to me as Orpheus lyre.  Beguiling at the edge of perception and calling one to follow.  But are they as sirens song?

Your very truly
J.L. Reichl

De Profundis: The pale Mr. Sutton

My Fellow Gentlemen


In the days following my encounter with Mr. Yeats I am coerced to his will.  I have gone calling upon Mr. Crowley as proposed.  This has proven fruitless as Mr. Crowley appears to be vacationing in Sicily.  In truth I was pleased by the revelation of this fact as I hold some apprehension in speaking with the man.

My sojourn to his residence was not without issue.  Firstly it is a squalor in the most run down of repair and second it unnerves one.  The abode is speaking most kindly a hunters game shack.  I was able to locate it with some vague direction from a bookseller I have become acquainted with.  It's location not far from my own residency but situation on a forgotten country lane, it's in disrepair.  This area is sometimes name New Almaden, sitting far under the shadow of Mount Umanhum in the southern lands. A colony of sorts for artist and outdoors men. It is not without its charm, though Mr. Crowley's residence peerless in countenance.  The very ground seems to scrutinize those which come calling. The feeling of watchful eyes ever present, I decided to extricate myself with haste.

No gentleman's gentlemen in employ, I was forced to leave my calling card with a local hills man that hung about the locale.  Pallid of look and missing teeth I believed the man to be the local dullard.  He further soured his mind with the consumption of white liquor directly from a stoneware jug.  The man referred to himself as Sutton and swore to deliver my card for a few coins.  The price fair though the messenger seemed unreliable.

I hope these trip not in vain.  I do not savor another journey into these wild lands and low persons.

Yours very Truly
J.L. Reichl

De Profundis: Only villains and I

My Fellow Gentlemen


I return bewildered and transfixed. The visit paid to Mr. Yeats nights past was in a word queer!  The powers Mr. Yeats spoke of were nay limitless and he claims a firm grasp over their direction.  I find myself much doubting his claims though for true he holds a far greater understanding than I.  He revealed some small fragment of his gift.  My mind still quakes at what was seen.

He also speaks of this Crowley I have had chance to identify.  This one a magus of different sorts has come into conflict with Mr. Yeats in the past.  Quarrels arise to bared arms at present.  As I understand my revelations now I have wandered blind into this conflict and find myself embroiled.

I am unsure how to extricate my person from this battle of wills. Mr. Yeats seeks to enlist my help as spy and go between in this conflict.  He appears to posses little concern for my misgivings and he threatens to cast me back amongst the sheep, warning there are many wolves about.  I hear their jaws snap in hunger all about.

There shall be no hero in this yawn I fear only villains and I.

Yours very truly
J.L. Reichl

De Profundis: an even greater chasm

My Fellow gentlemen

The universe foundations of the spiral arm appear open before me; as if some precipice daring me to cross.  Calling me need me a trill wire in the blood.  But  this portal is only crossed grimly, casting off this for the next.  The warm sanity of the clean and knowable thrown aside in favor of the slimy stars imagined by minds of grandeur.

I have take the door; bolstered myself with a breath, and strode forward.  My tempts in contacting Mr. Yeats have proven fruitful.  He has brokered a meeting in some nights time.  Thought I fear my escape is not to be.  The author has assured me the headlong charge the only course.  I steel myself as I inscribe this message.

I further labor through books and fill my study with perfumes and fragrant strange.  The green nimbus power seems to be at my fingertips as well.  I feel the reality between it and I scared and pulpy.  As if with a dull scratch it may well up.   Though I confess no knowledge on how one would paint themselves an army of this extra corporeal light.

If I am straddling an even greater chasm

Your very truly
J.L. Reichl

De Profundis: a strange inscription

My Fellow Gentlemen


Assured of my faculties and soundness of body I have venture forth.  Into the world or at least the microcosm of my property.  I remained under the grand expanse of sky some three quarters of an hour.   While I was pleased to again leave my abode it was not without unease.  The air and very nature of my property was perplexing.  Foreign and familiar coterminous and haunting my doorstep.

Inspecting the pathway that borders my estate, my sight was accosted.  Vulgar text and symbols had been drawn about, in some strange red chalk or dust.  Much had been cast off by the wind but still enough remained to fill my soul with dread.  I shall aspire to replicate the marks upon this letter.  The text is strange to me though the form suggests the anatomy of the innermost.

I continue to inspect the property of the inscription medium, though my guess powdered brick.  The text appears grim and ugly to mine eye, I have not seen it's like.  Perhaps it will stir remembrance.

Yours very Truly
J.L. Reichl

De Profundis: a newspaper clipping

My Fellow Gentlemen

I poor through books from within my study, still cowering in fear.  The wounds of my last encounter scab and fester though I fear to seek medical attention beyond the walls of my estate.  I have called for an internist but still await his arrival.  I hold to hope these wounds remain superficial but they appear malignant.

In long hours I devour strange books seeking insight to the events I have so oft written.  Most seem filled with ill conceived science and speak of odd energies, such as Orgone, the mind struggles to grasp.  I am needing a magi of my own to drive away these evils.   Or barring help, provide me a direction of study as much I read is fanciful drivel.   Thought I find words and and pictures which ring true.

One such element of true spoke of Crowley and a residence in far England deemed the Boleskine house.  It is humorous that for all these books I acquire it was an article in the times that provided this revelation.  It spoke of a cleansing of sorts derived from Abramelin the Mage.  I Know little of the work other than the name posted in the paper.   Noteworthy was another of Crowley's endeavors known as Thelema.

Friends I fear my only hope to address Yeats directly and cast my cards upon his table.  Then I shall pray he pities my soul.

Yours very truly
J.L. Reichl