Miss Bloom in Wonderland

What would happen if...

Miss Bloom in Wonderland...The word of Luther

Luther was an after thought, born and raised in that space words leave behind. Perhaps he

was not meant to be, yet he was. His ultimate destiny would wait to collide with our reality until

the time were ready. A child of the privileged few-a loosely knit organization of the last

remaining wealthy families; witness to the dawn of the Millennium and the death of Democracy;

Luther was a breathing contradiction. Born into wealth and power, he would become a member

of the Lords of Order. Another loosely knit group trying to keep Democracy running. He would

rise to a power no amount of money could even imagine.

The rumblings of the Rumor could be felt late 20th century America. Only those in the know

were close enough to the sound system playing the song of our end. Late 20th century

America, the rumblings of unrest a great number of our foreign neighbors were growing tired

of the Big Brother routine, fed up in general with life on Mother Earth. And who could blame

them? After all, we’d fucked up. Tampering and tinkering with nature, you can’t play if you’re

not willing to pay. In our case, in our defense maybe, it wasn’t unwillingness, more like inability.

Too many people not enough resources- the waste. Forces both in and out of our control

were slowly approaching collision.

We should have seen the signs, but hey we were Big Brother, who was gonna fuck with us?

Early 21st century, fall. Kids just settling in to the new school year. Helluva history lesson.

Reality came with a bang two to be precise-fear followed thinly disguised as retaliation. Blame.

War. Congressional hearings. More death and devastation and oh boy! An election year! We

had to ask ourselves some hard questions, houses of faith filled their pews, suddenly God was

in. We’d witnessed how quickly life as we though it should be, could come crashing to an end

and now we had to make some kind of peace if we’d found ourselves in the wrong place.

Peace was not free, a lesson we still hadn’t learned. Between the tears, pain, and disbelief,

after guard dogs and security checks before jubilant shouts of triumphant reconstruction our

unspoken hatred simmered. Cleaning up from this particular blaze would take much more than

political rhetoric, award winning architecture media coverage or even hype. The fear would

linger. That quiet that suddenly falls when there is something not right. “We’d” just had our

asses kicked by “them” Division. Everyone and everything falling on either side of the invisible

line was suspect. A quick glance whenever a group of “us” crossed paths with “them” And we

thought the dream of racial harmony had been realized. Through the tragedy we would

embrace the fact that we were all brothers and sisters. Lie. Democracy and its illusion of power

tend to do that. Caught in the act, politicians just brushed the problem aside, more pressing

matters, the war on terrorism waged on with no end in sight. From the ruins of our system of

Democracy, many rose to attempt to keep something that at least looked like government

going. Most wanna-be saviors would turn out to be nothing more than closet dictators-

participants in an unannounced contest; the prize, rulers of the free world.

And from this collective of power hungry individuals, came the Era of Religious Fanatics. Badly

disguised failed preachers. Receivers of some vision, sole recipients and hearers of a divine

message. Blessed believers in the truth. Desperate exhausted and pissed off citizens lined up

by the thousands to hear and see the bullshit. Each of these would be rescuers claimed to be

the only ones capable of ushering order back to its rightful place.

The Lords of Order began at the height of the Era of Religious Fanatics. Innocently enough,

however, innocence is often lost in the beginnings of a war. Leaders of the Lords of Order

truly believed their message came from on High. Divine or drug induced would remain in

question. Nevertheless, this collective of the wealthy remnants of Democracy gathered

followers like colored folks at a bbq. Their numbers is rumored to have reached the millions.

Compounds were constructed overnight with promises of housing, employment and

healthcare. Waiting lists stretched for decades.

Gaining entrance behind the walls of wonder was a process involving multiple tests and

checks. Those selected ran through the streets proudly waving their golden slips of

acceptance. The thought was that at last we could get back to normal, never realizing normal

no longer existed. A happy relaxed even contented people are easily fooled and so it was the

beginning of all things right and wrong of a truth and the lie hidden behind.

In that time before we would remember, hope was planted, families grew. Privileged pampered

protected children of the walls sprang forth, believing, as all children should, that the world

would be theirs. It was in this time Luther was born, grew and learned. Through childhood’s

eyes he watched divisions heat up and some simmer. With a adolescents mind he heard

groups of men plan and plot. He would wait after each conversation for something to happen

and nothing ever would. Most would be revolutions and schemes were turned off as quickly as

the flame of discontent flickered on. Young educated and rich, Luther could buy all the ideals

available. Fresh from Wonderland University, he began innocently enough, full of energy and

hope. During his early days he claimed to have had a vision the details would never be fully

known but inside the protective walls of Wonderland, rumors were hard to contain.

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