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.