Running into young (34 year old) Timothy at the Shelter today, he walked me over to the River of Life for breakfast, regaling me the while with lurid tales about something called the Bohemian Grove, which, when we had finished breakfast at the River, and gone on to the library and I had googled it, absolutely overwhelmed me with horror and vast pandemoniac vision--I had thought I understood something in penetrating the secret of Skull and Bones, but I now see that my understanding was but a glimmer of distant starlight flickering upon a Stygian ocean of inconceivably deliberate, preening, all-powerful Evil--villainy, terror, horror, violence, monstrous delight in the abuse of power, like nothing I had ever imagined possible, posing and posturing and shrilly cavorting in their very own grove of sacred millennia-old redwoods. I thank god that I knew nothing of it before. I fear that the knowledge of it may yet drive me mad.