points to the air and the ground simultaneously, the ancient alchemical message, “As above, so below.”
What happened in the heavens also happened on earth. Spiritual and physical reality mirrored and informed each other. To focus on one side at the expense of the other was to dwell in extreme peril. From this, I concluded several things and castigated myself for being such a schlemiel for not having realized it right away.
I was developing an unproven hypothesis. The Theater was really that: a theater. I was its spectator. It was a place where the war in the alchemical world, or heavens if you like, was projected to me. A colossal multidimensional screen. Most likely, the cosmic energies involved used tarot symbolism because that was what I understood best. Were I a deep faith Christian, I’d probably see angels and devils locked in eternal combat. If I were immersed in Scandinavian mythology, I’d see Loki and Thor squabbling. The forces of good and evil, and those in between, engaged in an ancient battle for dominion. Dominion of what, I worried.
I knew I was in the middle of a cosmic and earthly game of tic-tac-toe. Not the one that you play with a friend on a scrap of paper while waiting to board an airplane. This was the tic-tac-toe played in three or more dimensions. Like the one with three levels and marbles, where so many contingencies have to be considered before making a move. A game where you are sure that you’re missing something that will cause your sudden and mortifying defeat, and it’s often true.
I poached an egg and slid it on top of a piece of toasted millet bread. When I finished eating, I had a plan for the day. I settled at my desk and grabbed the phone.
“Fitch, I thought I’d call you before I look for Laura Bishop and hear what you’ve dug up on her and the Smith Tower killings. Tell me what you know.”
Fitch started relating information about Laura Bishop. “I have lots of information. She’s a clean gal. No crimes, just a couple parking tickets. She is a lesbian who doesn’t use online dating sites, but she does visit sites about lesbian culture. Her other frequented Internet sites center around lefty news, you know, like the Huff Post. No indication whether she has a girlfriend or not. haven’t checked her shopping habits yet but I’ll get to that. Her activities seem limited to numerous charities she supports and her pricey legal practice. A family law attorney and as good as they come. Lots of well-heeled clients but does her fair share of pro bono work for women and kids in shelters. Definitely not a tool of the extreme Christian right, anyway.”
“Possible enemies?” My excursions to the Theater made it clear Laura Bishop was in danger, but from who and why? And what happened at Smith Tower, her office building, two days ago? I withstood my impatience and let Fitch deliver the information systematically.
Now Fitch’s voice sobered a bit. “Lots of potential enemies. Family litigation dredges up the worst in people. Fighting over kids and property has become a bloody national sport. She has had her share of online death threats and a few through conventional mail and telephone calls. Fairly routine occurrences in her profession. Who knew? All threats were duly reported to the police and handled appropriately from what I can tell.”
“No current or ongoing threats?” My mind kept rewinding and replaying the sight of Laura Bishop calling for help just before that tower fell.
“Here’s where it gets interesting and where I deserve my reputation, Devy.”
“Don’t call me Devy. I’m not a Devy. Okay, prove once again what makes you the macher of cyberspace.”
“I am the queen tuna of cyberspace because I know when to leave cyberspace and make a few phone calls. I thought Bishop would probably have some security, at least at her office, protecting her from the marauding ex-spouses she has litigated against. One call and I hit it big.”
“Who did you
What happened in the heavens also happened on earth. Spiritual and physical reality mirrored and informed each other. To focus on one side at the expense of the other was to dwell in extreme peril. From this, I concluded several things and castigated myself for being such a schlemiel for not having realized it right away.
I was developing an unproven hypothesis. The Theater was really that: a theater. I was its spectator. It was a place where the war in the alchemical world, or heavens if you like, was projected to me. A colossal multidimensional screen. Most likely, the cosmic energies involved used tarot symbolism because that was what I understood best. Were I a deep faith Christian, I’d probably see angels and devils locked in eternal combat. If I were immersed in Scandinavian mythology, I’d see Loki and Thor squabbling. The forces of good and evil, and those in between, engaged in an ancient battle for dominion. Dominion of what, I worried.
I knew I was in the middle of a cosmic and earthly game of tic-tac-toe. Not the one that you play with a friend on a scrap of paper while waiting to board an airplane. This was the tic-tac-toe played in three or more dimensions. Like the one with three levels and marbles, where so many contingencies have to be considered before making a move. A game where you are sure that you’re missing something that will cause your sudden and mortifying defeat, and it’s often true.
I poached an egg and slid it on top of a piece of toasted millet bread. When I finished eating, I had a plan for the day. I settled at my desk and grabbed the phone.
“Fitch, I thought I’d call you before I look for Laura Bishop and hear what you’ve dug up on her and the Smith Tower killings. Tell me what you know.”
Fitch started relating information about Laura Bishop. “I have lots of information. She’s a clean gal. No crimes, just a couple parking tickets. She is a lesbian who doesn’t use online dating sites, but she does visit sites about lesbian culture. Her other frequented Internet sites center around lefty news, you know, like the Huff Post. No indication whether she has a girlfriend or not. haven’t checked her shopping habits yet but I’ll get to that. Her activities seem limited to numerous charities she supports and her pricey legal practice. A family law attorney and as good as they come. Lots of well-heeled clients but does her fair share of pro bono work for women and kids in shelters. Definitely not a tool of the extreme Christian right, anyway.”
“Possible enemies?” My excursions to the Theater made it clear Laura Bishop was in danger, but from who and why? And what happened at Smith Tower, her office building, two days ago? I withstood my impatience and let Fitch deliver the information systematically.
Now Fitch’s voice sobered a bit. “Lots of potential enemies. Family litigation dredges up the worst in people. Fighting over kids and property has become a bloody national sport. She has had her share of online death threats and a few through conventional mail and telephone calls. Fairly routine occurrences in her profession. Who knew? All threats were duly reported to the police and handled appropriately from what I can tell.”
“No current or ongoing threats?” My mind kept rewinding and replaying the sight of Laura Bishop calling for help just before that tower fell.
“Here’s where it gets interesting and where I deserve my reputation, Devy.”
“Don’t call me Devy. I’m not a Devy. Okay, prove once again what makes you the macher of cyberspace.”
“I am the queen tuna of cyberspace because I know when to leave cyberspace and make a few phone calls. I thought Bishop would probably have some security, at least at her office, protecting her from the marauding ex-spouses she has litigated against. One call and I hit it big.”
“Who did you
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