Chapter 8: Fire on the Bowling Green
- Colonial-NewYorker
- 13 hours ago
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VIII
Fire on the Bowling Green
In the mystical Book of Splendor (which, being unveiled by the sagacity of Moshe d’Leon of the Iberian Peninsula, has molded itself into manifold ideologies and esoteric traditions) the topic of fire is discussed. The book discusses supernal unification, and the means by which an ordinary layman may begin to penetrate the veil of the Cosmic Intelligence. In the treatise, Shimon son of Yochai (supposedly) suggested that one might meditate upon the ascending light of a candle or some other light-source and receive from said meditations eternal truths regarding the divine nature. O, with such wisdom did he decree that one could gain understanding with but a spermaceti candle! One need not any expensive trappings or offices to gain wisdom of the highest, he need not be a priest, and he need not be a pontiff. So too the ancient Hebrews, in the character of Moses, met God himself aflame atop a mountain, in the guise of a burning bush. Aye, the Apostles received the Holy Ghost at Pentecost in tongues of flame! (I shall speak not about St. Elmo’s fire and Ahab’s dark lucubrations!) Thus, it is known that the most ancient peoples of this earth believed that inside fire could be found profundity, deep truths about life, God, and cosmic mystery.
George stared into the raging maw of the bonfire as it stretched heavenward, trailing ashen smoke into the clear November sky. The fire produced such a quantity of smoke, in fact, that the very constellations seemed blotted out by thick darkness. The orange flames were so hot that as they ascended and twisted in lithe contortions they glowed a sapphire hue and even a virgin white. The light produced by the fire cast the surroundings into sharp relief; dark shadows danced on the ground, and seemed to take upon lives of their own, for perhaps a shadow was but a shade of umbral soul, attached to men until the day of death, and then, like the ashes of fire, ascend skyward upon hot air. George knew not if this were true, only that the fire's bewitching glow bathed the Bowling Green in a surreal and almost supernatural light.
He could hardly believe what he had seen, an orderly and honorable crowd-action descending into an anarchic rabble, culminating in the destruction of public property, so sacredly protected by English law and custom, and declared so even by such venerable intelligentsia as John Locke himself: rights inviolable and undeniable. His friends had left him as the crowd grew bored of their destruction upon the Bowling Green and sought new avenues by which they could satisfy their baser passions; “George” said they, “I think we might be able to temper a few persons if we follow the mob,” but George had not heard this, for his mind was hazy. “George!” yelled Robert shaking him roughly, at which he finally met his eyes and said, “You two go, I’ll be fine.” “You sure? Be careful on the road and alert any gentlemen you come across to make all haste to the Battery, we need to control this crowd.” “Aye, I will,” said he as they, still concerned for their dear friend, ran off with little hope of success.
It mattered not where that rabble went, for here George stood in the dust, staring into the seemingly impenetrable depths of the fire. One would think, that as the ancients had said, he could gain some sort of ascendancy upon his own thoughts by means of the flames or divine some understanding that might illuminate his conflicted feelings, but all he saw from that flaming maw was the nihilistic truth of elements burning in chemical reactions, sending heat energy aloft.
Chapter 9
Warning: The Yellow Cardinal contains adult themes that may not be suitable for all audiences under the age of 18. Some chapters may contain descriptions of graphic scenarios including but not limited to: suggestive materials, violence, 18th century racism and slavery, sexism, etc. Read with caution and/or parental permission.
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