Weaving Spiders and Burning Cares:
Deep within the ancient redwood forests of Northern California, away from the prying eyes of the world, lies a place shrouded in ritual and firelight. For nearly 150 years, the world’s most powerful men have gathered on this 2,700-acre estate known as Bohemian Grove. In an age of constant surveillance, the idea of a secret society where presidents, billionaires, and media moguls convene under the shadow of a giant stone owl feels like a relic from a forgotten time. But it is very real. What truly happens when the global elite meet in the whispering woods, far from public accountability? The truth is stranger, and more complex, than the conspiracies suggest.
1. Its Roots Aren't in Power, But in Poetry and Whiskey
Contrary to its modern image as a shadowy cabal of plutocrats, the Bohemian Club's first gathering in the woods in 1878 was a farewell party. A band of men—journalists, actors, painters, and writers—wandered among the redwoods with jugs of whiskey and lanterns that glowed like captured moons. They gathered to send off their friend, actor Henry "Harry" Edwards, unrolling blankets on the forest floor and lighting a bonfire that spat sparks into the ancient canopy. These initial members were a "carnival of misfits," men who saw themselves as defiant outsiders in the industrial rush of the Gilded Age, more interested in declaiming verses under the stars than in cornering markets.
This artistic sanctuary, however, would not last. As the tradition grew, wealthy patrons—the men who owned the banks, railroads, and newspapers—were invited to join. They brought money, permanence, and eventually, control. The original bohemians were slowly relegated to the role of "entertainment," performing for an audience of men who measured their worth in fortunes, not stanzas. This shift was not merely financial; it was a fundamental redefinition of the club's soul, where defiant creativity was subsumed by established power.
2. Their Official Motto Forbids Exactly What They Do
As the financiers seized the stage, they erected a noble motto—one that their actions would render a profound hypocrisy. Inscribed on club banners and repeated in speeches is the official creed, borrowed from Shakespeare: "Weaving Spiders, Come Not Here." The stated meaning is a directive for members to leave their worldly concerns and business dealings at the gate. Inside the Grove, they are supposed to be free from plotting, scheming, and the weaving of corporate or political webs.
This noble intention is perhaps the club's greatest irony. According to leaked accounts and historical records, the Grove is precisely where those webs are woven. Shielded by redwood trunks and private security, men of immense wealth and political power engage in off-the-record conversations, forge alliances, and quietly shape policy. While the motto preaches against it, the spiders wove their webs anyway, and they simply did it in the shadows.
3. The Manhattan Project Had a Pivotal Meeting at the Grove
In the late summer of 1942, as the world was engulfed in war, a select group known as the S-1 Executive Committee convened at Bohemian Grove. This was the group overseeing America's atomic research. In attendance were figures like Ernest Lawrence and J. Robert Oppenheimer—men whose names would become synonymous with the Manhattan Project.
While the club's boast that the atomic bomb was "conceived" at the Grove is an overstatement, as the project had been developing for some time, the meeting was a critical moment. It was here that discussions advanced on how theoretical physics could be weaponized into unimaginable fire. The quiet retreat in the woods became a waypoint on the path to Armageddon. As the source material notes with chilling gravity:
But it is true that on these grounds, beneath these canopies, the machinery of annihilation clicked one notch forward.
4. They Worship a 40-Foot Owl and Burn an Effigy in a Bizarre Ceremony
Of all the Grove's secrets, none is more visually arresting or disturbing than its central ritual: the Cremation of Care. On the first night of the encampment, men in hooded robes carry torches in a procession toward a massive stone owl, cited as being between 30 and 40 feet tall. This concrete and steel statue, which "speaks" with the recorded, booming voice of CBS News anchor Walter Cronkite, presides over the ceremony from the edge of a lake.
The ritual involves the burning of a life-sized effigy named "Dull Care," which is meant to symbolically shed the members' worldly worries and responsibilities. To the club, it is an elaborate allegory. But to outsiders who have seen leaked footage, like the grainy video captured by Alex Jones in 2000, it looks like a "satanic riot" or a mock sacrifice. Speculation has linked the owl to the ancient deity Moloch, to whom child sacrifices were allegedly made, though this connection appears to be a modern invention. Still, the image of powerful men cheering as an effigy burns before a giant idol is undeniably unsettling.
5. A Conspiracy of Silence Keeps the Grove's Secrets Safe
One of the most persistent questions about Bohemian Grove is why it receives so little mainstream press coverage. The answer is simple and troubling: for decades, the press barons have been inside the gates. Editors, owners, and anchors from major media organizations have been members, creating a powerful disincentive for their employees to investigate the club's activities too closely. As the source poses:
If, for example, you are a journalist looking to expose the secrets within, if your boss is in the redwoods, how sharp can your pen truly be?
This code of silence is reinforced by the Grove's unofficial patron saint, a wooden carving of St. John of Nepomuk, who was martyred for refusing to betray a confessor's secret. His presence is no accident; it is a symbolic warning to all who enter that what is said here, stays here—or else.
The Grove’s relevance exploded into the headlines again in 2023 with revelations that Supreme Court Justice Clarence Thomas had been a regular guest, hosted by his billionaire patron Harlan Crow. Crow's camp included some of the wealthiest donors in America, many with direct interests in the Supreme Court's rulings. This news transformed the Grove from a subject of conspiracy theories into a flashpoint for judicial ethics, raising the critical question: if the law itself walks among the redwoods, whose justice does it truly serve?
Conclusion: Myth, Power, and the Unblinking Owl
Bohemian Grove exists in a strange duality. It is part elite summer camp, where powerful men stumble drunk by mid-morning and perform in elaborate theatrical productions known as "Hijinx," with CEOs and cabinet officials belting arias in drag or togas. And it is part shadow government, where alliances are forged and the course of history is nudged in one direction or another. Its secrecy is its greatest strength.
The Grove endures because its true power lies not in what can be proven, but in the influence and access that can never be disproven. The echoes of conversations held in firelight ripple outward into policy, economies, and court rulings. And through it all, the stone owl watches, unblinking. We are left with the same question posed by those who have peered into its shadows: "So is Bohemian Grove a gathering place for the elite to conduct Satanic idol worship and unspeakable rituals? Or is it just a men's club that happens to have a very exclusive membership? Or is it a bit of both?"
