Rv. Emersohn was one of the McDowell's few failed revitalizations. Haskins McDowell writes in his journal:

"Upon the walls of this room, where the twin mathematicians had used twigs and coal to devise this gallery of missteps, brought up on skeletal wings, clustered like emptied ships on a nodal tide, wherein graven images of Rv. Emersohn depicted scenes of his rerisen wife, led back to her love via a series of olafactory hints, yet there is no means of escape from the forest, maps tattooed in his wrinkled palms, endless paths circling upon themselves, and the snow thickens outside the kitchen window, where the darkness swallows up the moon and hides all transgressions against the fallen god in the coliseums where rebuilt men fight against horses and dogs with briars caught in their coats while the villagers listen outside the gates, drunk on apple wine and rancid pudding, waiting for the light.

"All night we heard nothing but the creaking of the ceiling and the bend of the branches out in the orchard. Not one sound of a carriage passing by, not one sound of aeromachines caught in the nets strung between the windmills, no ghost nor speaking owl disturbed our wake, gathered in candlelight until sunrise to keep watch o'er the body of the good Reverend Emersohn, whose eyes, replaced now with cold black opal, devoured what little light we had to share. Quintus had nailed shut the doors and windows, both to keep us in and to keep the dark night out, so that while the widows and boys danced at the promenade, we made certain that none of the good Reverend's proclamations as to a return from the land of the dead were realized. In our village, we have had only one revisiting spirit, yet even in the days before the body decomposed enough to allow us to rebury it, the rerisen Captain Nonpareil poisoned the livestock and chopped holes in the foundation of the alderman's house, which collapsed half a year later. It's been a frigid winter, and this is our sixth funeral in as many weeks, and the grain we've buried in the root cellar had been contaminated with the yellow spores. We cannot afford a walking corpse during such conditions."

"For half an hour the good Reverend Emersohn pretended to be dead, trying not to move, until finally we began to pour the tracer-blood on his face and chest, at which point he began screaming until the two devils entered the room. First they began by pleasing him with letters written from seers of a prior age who forecast his coming as a sign of the great completion, a golden aeon of wisdom and punishment, and then they poured oils from the sepulchres and forecast the meaning of the shapes the oil took upon entering the standing pools of water, and then they brought forth nine sheep who had been taught to kneel before him, and then they brought forth eight infants so that he might name them and bestow certain boons upon them, and then they reenacted mighty battles upon the sea in the same standing pools where the oils began to deform in shape with thousands of miniature boats made of clockwork and fat, and then they brought forth six apples whose insides were as pleasure gardens, with microscopic vines and pagodas and statues, and then they brought forth figs soaked in brandy served in a portion of the head of the great beast, and then they brought nineteen dancing women whose skins had been dyed in various pleasing colors and patterns, and then they pulled him, one by the left hand and one by the right hand, into his grave.

"Outside, beneath the trees where the alchemists were hung for attempting to incite revolution by undermining the gold standard, a hole was dug, into which the second-spend form of Rv. Emersohn was set face-down, so that if his spirit should return again he would think to dig down and not up."

The Ghost of Dried Wells was written by Rv. Emersohn during his time in Richter-Goldberg Psychiatric Facility. His doctors would not allow him books during the first six months of his incarceration, so Emersohn attempted to transcribe from memory as much of the Old Testament as possible. It is important to keep in mind the Revitalization Technicians never considered the Emersohn "translation" to be canonical, but instead considered it as a point of reference from which certain truths became clear, and its connection to the Revitalization faith is roughly equivalent to that of the Zohar, and just as multivalent. The quote in question can be found in Daniel 9:27, which in the American Standard version reads "And he shall make a firm covenant with many for one week: and in the midst of the week he shall cause the sacrifice and the oblation to cease; and upon the wing of abominations shall come one that maketh desolate; and even unto the full end, and that determined, shall wrath be poured out upon the desolate." This is a particularly difficult passage, and we will not speak of its deeper meanings here, only contrast with the GODW translation: "And he will speak among the people for a week, and once the week ceases so shall the sacrifice, and upon the wing of abomination shall rise Mother Durga the Desolator! This is the last of them, and laughing she calls out where the blood has fallen! Hidden in broadcast and snow, the wrath shall be poured into the mouths of those who have made waste! Make your hands into claws for to dig a grave, but no grave shall hide you!" This passage is worth noting considering Rv. Emersohn's final days, and indeed he wrote of this in the margins:

"It is the third day after, and I see the reflection of the body, and I know that it is my body, yet the differences are telling and profound. The skin is cold to the touch, and thin. I am moving slowly, slower than the technicians, and I know that the technicians move as slowly as possible now that I am responsive, else I would not see them at all. The first-lifers, were they to see me, would detect no motion at all, as the metabolistic process is slowed to the mildest of pulses, so as to hide myself from Death. The chittering of the technicians occasionally gives up meaning: 'network (of) risen', 'bodily failure', 'Emersohn', 'The wearer of the skull'. I only have understanding of my name in that sequence, and I become increasingly unresponsive to it, as it was my skin-name, and now I am something other."

This is the last confirmed entry by Emersohn. Beyond this, all we know of his second life is speculation.

the exit is hidden within the exit