"As one goes through it, one sees that the gate one went through was the self that went through it." —R. D. Laing (via Clifford Pickover)

Bibliomancer Craig Conley turns his attention to a decidedly modern bit of marginalia—Google Books' scanned images of author portraits as found in the frontispieces of Victorian-era books.  From his introduction: "In old books, frontispieces were typically protected by a sheet of translucent onionskin.  So thorough is the Google Books scanning process that even this page of onionskin is scanned.  The figure in the plate beneath the onionskin—'beyond the veil,' as it were—emerges as from a foggy otherworld.  The frontispieces were never meant to be seen this way."

However, the eyes of Conley have seen them such, and he presents here an entire book of paired portraits, veiled and unveiled.  The presentation evokes "necromancy by proxy," as Conley puts it, the scanning machine taking up the role of the crystal ball.  Quotes on ghosts, shadows, mist, and nothingness culled from Conley's tireless research accompany each diptych.  Ephemera of ephemera, The Ghost in the [Scanning] Machine is an unexpectedly rewarding and transporting read.

—Clint Marsh (editor of Swami Panchadasi's Clairvoyance and Occult Powers: A Lost Classic), from his review in The Pamphleteer

Prof. Oddfellow found his ideal of a wonky homestead: the Carpenter's House (1908), once part of the Dow Museum's preserved city block in the heart of St. Augustine's historic district (but irresponsibly demolished).  There was no lens distortion in the photo — the house really was that lopsided. 

~ Amorphous Apparitions ~

Portrait from Memoir of Samuel Slater.

Slater’s ghost is a mirror image. The striped aura in his portrait appears courtesy of the scanning machine.

~ Amorphous Apparitions ~

Portrait from Margaret Woods.

Margaret’s insubstantial "Woods” is reminiscent of Victor Hugo’s perspective on death: "I feel in myself the future life; I am like a forest that has been more than once cut down.”