Fencing Bear at Prayer

1 She stands alone, her hair unveiled for God, a cup held high as if to offer laud. And with her lips she whispers words most holy; she takes the bread and says, “This is my body.” Then from the cup she takes a drink of water, her spirit hot to channel God as Daughter. “O holy, holy, holy, Lord Most High,” she sings, but in her heart knows it’s a lie. 2 A voice came from behind, with honeyed tones: “Why do you speak as if your god were bones?” In fear she spills the golden cup she holds, then spins around, three women to behold. One dressed in black, pearls dangling from her wrist, her red mouth pursed as if she had been kissed. One dumpling fat, with floury arms and cheeks, the other gaunt, as if she’d starved for weeks. 3 “Angel, dear, we come here with an offer: something to help fill your church’s coffer. A little thing, we hope you won’t refuse, a sister whom we gave the right to choose. She’s one with us, but now she’s split in two; we long to guide her on a path that’s true. You...

# DracoAlchemicus # RainbowTime

  “He who controls the spice controls the universe.”  — Frank Herbert, Dune  (1965) It came to me in a flash last summer .  Why the United States of America had spent the past two decades trying to control Afghanistan.  Why Big Pharma was pushing the vaccines.  It was the spice. The opium of the poppy fields. The opioids of Big Pharma.  Everything was about controlling the spice. And always had been. Once upon a time, there was a Silk Road. You’ve heard of it I’m sure. The caravan road across the middle of the great Eurasian continent, linking the treasures of the Orient with the markets of the West.  Except throughout the Middle Ages, the markets in the West weren’t much to speak of. A few Italian city-states. A few burghers in the north. Back in high school, I did a presentation about the fairs where they sold their spices. I even wore a costume—a hat that I got at the Renaissance Faire north of Houston, the autumn before I started college there...