Copyright 1997 Pearl Publishing
The sun was rising over the mountain peaks, crimson streaks of
light streaming through the trees, striking the multi-colored
falling leaves.
As the tattered remnants of the Magic Circle slept soundly, after
days of flight to the security of their last remaining hideaway,
twin rays of light split the air in the cave above them, with
silver leaves twisting lazily down from the skylight at its peak,
turning to a blazing scarlet as they passed through the lower
streak of light, like blood dripping off a chain saw…
This was a moment stranded in time…not abandoned, but suspended
in the twilight which lay between the future and the past…between
the beginning of time and the end of time…or vice-versa.
A twinkling of time, wherein the sun was neither rising, nor setting…merely
waiting for a whisper from the Tao before deciding which way to
proceed in its journey toward eternity…
Perhaps I look at life a bit differently from some of the remaining
members of the Magic Circle, because I am a mother.
That is probably why, of all Bubba's many stories of the characters
in the legends surrounding the Magic Circle, I most enjoyed the
ones concerning the Author and Bubba d'Shauneaux swapping stories
about the Author's mother.
My favorite remains the one of how she worked at a small newspaper,
in a small town, at a time when it was unheard of for a woman
to write a sports column. She simply took on a masculine nome-de-plume,
put some obscure man's picture next to it on the column header,
and proceeded to do exactly what she wanted to do.
"To him who does what within him lies, God will not deny
his grace."
- Saint Augustine
This is something that mothers instinctively understand, and their
joy or heartache, if they have remained on a path with heart,
is not from their children's success or status in the eyes of
others, but in their child's own inner eye.
Likewise in the Magic Circle. It's members recognize one another
instantly, not from their outer appearances, but from an inner
quality of being that is acquired only by being true to one's
inherent soul-pattern and making choices that are in line with
their true destiny in life.
Bubba Rom Dos tells a story about the Author and d'Shauneaux I
discussing members of the CypherPunks list.
"Bianca was listening to them discuss whom on the list
they would trust to vote for them. When they discussed Kent Crispin,
the Author said, 'If he tried to cast my vote for me, I would
be forced to kill him.'
"d'Shauneaux asked the Author if he would trust Crispin to
watch his back for him in the real world, and the Author replied,
'In a heartbeat.'
"Bianca asked the Author, 'If he was your child, would you
be proud of him?' and he replied, without hesitation, 'Yes…but
I'd spank him, too.'"
Cowboy once told me that he thought I had perhaps given one of
the most astute definitions of the CypherPunks he had ever heard,
and that it was a description that only a mother could give.
I had told him that I thought they were "deranged saints
with an attitude." I suspect that he was so grandly impressed
with my description because it fit himself so well. As a child,
I mean, of course (nod-nod, wink-wink;)
The CypherPunks were an oddball assortment of scrappers and elitists,
mathematicians, philosophers, physicists, lunatics and poets…ad
infinitum…
The CypherPunk mailing list, however, had a spirit of life about
it, with even the most brutal of attacks usually having some basis
of logic underpinning them. Meanness and pettiness were not the
rule of the day and were seldom tolerated for long on the list
without any one of a wide number of list members stepping in to
give the originator an 'attitude adjustment.'
Even in the midst of some of the CypherPunks' most ferocious of their legendary pissing contests, some poor bastard would shoot himself in the foot that he or she had put in their mouth, at which point the thread would often pause, like the Civil War hiatus wherein opposing sides would 'do lunch' and claim their dead, and everyone would join in soundly ridiculing the offending party before resuming their pissing party (or forgetting about it and moving on to less meaningful activities).
After Vice-Admiral d'Shauneaux had taken over Pearl Harbor Computers,
Inc., and had written the Epilogue to 'The Xenix Chainsaw Massacre'
someone asked him what he liked most about the bizarre cryptographers
he was following who had formed the CypherPunks mailing list.
His cryptic reply was, "They're Troopers!"
I asked Bubba once whether the Admiral was referring to the rumors
that they were all double or triple agents of three-letter secret
agencies of one sort or another, or to one of the Author's favorite
musical groups, who sang, "We're here for a good time,
not a long time, so have a good time…the sun doesn't shine
every day."
Bubba's answer was, "Both."
If you are reading this, then I presume that the Trei Transponder
is no longer functioning, and has transferred the InformEnergy
from the Epilogue HydroCube which was meant only to be sent in
the event that we were forced to abandon our last remaining safe
house and beat feet to our mountain hideaway.
No matter what your view of what the tattered remnants of a mythical
group from the future have chosen to share with you, I hope and
pray that you will learn as much from your future as we have from
our past.
You may not yet fully realize the full import of the story that
you and we have woven together from what could have been, and
what may yet be, but it will not be long before you will.
Remember:
"Patience comes to those who wait…"