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Once inside the large, classic, manor house the man with long salt and pepper hair led me across a dim entry hall floored with black and white marble tiles. We went into what I assumed to be an 'assembly' space used for dances and receptions during the season. Were such things part of my world?... No, they weren't. But I had a vague idea. In my little hamlet, we used to watch from the hedgerows and wave to the black or dark, red burnished, lacquered carriages as they passed, delivering the various landed families to balls and festivities.
The room was large and set up for some type of meeting. Thirty high backed chairs flanked each side of a rectangular, parquet expanse. A throne-like dais occupied the far end. Brass chandeliers and sconces bathed all in a soft, golden candlelight. The walls and ceiling featured a restrained, elegant plaster-work. The man with long, salt and pepper hair directed me toward a chair far down from the dais. I looked at him. He nodded. I sat. He walked across the polished hardwood and took his place in a seat much closer to the 'throne.' Liveried footmen gave each in attendance a glass of wine. The right arm of each chair ended in a small platform with slightly raised edges apparently meant for drinks. I studied my fellow congregants, a mixed group of men and women attired in fine, though somber garments. Some looked at me. Others chatted quietly with their neighbors. Then a door opened right by the throne. All stood in unison. An older gentleman entered and sat down on the large carved chair. The other sixty people in the chamber, of which I was one, sat down too. Upon closer inspection I realized we were a mixed group representing humanity in its entirety.
Then the man on the dais began to speak.... Welcome to this synod. May we accomplish much. - That's what he said... It was all so straight forward, like a meeting of the brethren in a Methodist church. I wasn't sure what it all meant then. Odd, how quickly I forgot about the tiny, human shaped creatures with the sugar-glass wings, but I did. There was a light incense in the air. Maybe it sedated us?... The man on the dais spoke of pigeons. They communicated through pigeons. Homing pigeons, they were. But I didn't know that then. Illuminati all had coops and the birds flew from 'light' to 'light.' That's what they call each other, 'lights.' In places with multiple 'lights,' not many, but enough to form a small congregation, they call those groups 'beacons.' He asked a few people if their flock was healthy and strong. He asked others, who I assumed were philosophers, or writers, if their tracts were ready. A woman from Krakow said her 'beacon' needed a new printing press, for their old one was smashed by the Czarist police. Most of Poland was ruled by Russia and that autocracy (an absolute, brutal, crushing, 'monarchy') was a particular nemesis of theirs.
You see, Illuminati were never involved with dark art. They (we) were just the first people to 'know.' They realized life could be better and they understood that certain organized forces did not want life to get better. Oh, the elites lived wonderful lives... the ecclesiastic elites, the ruling elites, the financial elites... all of them. To be truthful, we had 'lights' among those powerful groups too. It's always better to reform from the inside, though progress was slow. Few people realized there could be anything better. And we did not preach violent political upheaval. Tolerant, progressive, constitutional kingdoms suited us just fine. You know what we were? We were children of The Enlightenment... Voltaire, Spinoza, De Carte, Goethe, Tom Paine and the like. Doctor Franklin, in America was part of it too.
The sad fact is 'common people' lack confidence. Give them a friendly taproom and a congenial company of fellows who share the same burdens, fears and biases. That's all they want.. a refuge from their troubles. Do you think Old India was the only land with a caste system? England was just as bad and we considered ourselves a 'modern' western country. ... Look, it's as they say at the top of this 'blog' --- Everything is everywhere. What choices do you make?
But I wax too philosophical . Let me return to the wonder of it all. I remember so much.
The Illuminati sometimes 'planted seeds.' I was one such seed. They placed me with foster parents, so that I might grow up and see the problems of the world. Then they snatched me back from that modest existence in a none too gentle way, as a demonstration of their capabilities.... And they (we?) are capable of a lot.
Sometimes 'retrograde souls,' that's what we call obstinate, powerful types in our way disappear. None take credit. It just happens. Is that a 'dark art?'... I don't think so. I don't know. Is it?
Come back next time.... We'll explore... Never be afraid to 'feel' the world... Never be afraid to dream...
<more to come>
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