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The Truth of Magic (A Note)
The Truth of Magic, may I be the first to reveal it, is that Houdini is
heroic, not for exposing the various mechanisms and pretenses involved in
the application of entertainment and trickery - but for deflecting the
Spiritual Aspects of what we do - as if it were nothing more than doll,
puppet, machine. The Truth of Magic is that Magic is true, not slight-of-
hand; it has been our gift to allay the fears of Gentlemen and Ladies,
presenting ourselves as powerless, even impotent. But nothing is farther
from the Truth; Houdini could move mountains, and those illusionists on
television and stage are in fact doing what they promise. The world is
full of Illusion - 'tis true - but the Illusion is that of mechanism, not
Spirit.
Thus I break with the Ranks of our great Secrecy, Yours, etc. etc.
_
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the coot aren't plentiful as before; some areas seem inundated, some
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relatively dry. we pull ourselves among the mangrove roots; i climb out in
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the midst of golden orb and shield spiders. later, poison ivy wound its
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way around everything, we watched egrets preening, a lone woodstork on top
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of a pine. these hunkered down in solution holes surrounded by alligator
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flag. earlier, a common yellowthroat. later, fireflies, more brilliant
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than ever. they're condensations of angels; they will light the way. rain
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and no rain coming. land's end and delineation of the rest of the world,
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the center. of nothing, the beyond. :behind the pelican, loons, i think,
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distant as ever. the anhinga are close to leaving the nest, trying their
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wings; we see only two, the third may have already left, may have died. in
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the dusk a dark snake crosses. earlier, a black mangrove snake in attack
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mode, the camera closing in. later, the bald eagle hatchling close to
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leaving as well, dark-headed, world-surveying. on turner river, parade of
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alligators. earlier, an old crocodile at land's end, turned from the
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water; he'll follow inundation, come safe and harbored in. :everglades,
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we're pushed to the edge, land's end, down in the water, we're returning
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on the highway, running 60, there's a thing in the road, dark alligator,
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we're thrown to a halt, run out, stop traffic. she's sitting there. we
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wave cars and trucks slow around. someone comes, moves the tail. she
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gets up hissing, trots off, we get back in the car, take off. there's
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everglades deer ahead on the right - elusive in these parts, they run off.
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on the mangrove roots, closeup: barnacles, limpets, mussels, mangrove
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oysters, worm tubings. i dream of land's end images, they claw at me, go
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down in water of the continent. :fakahatchie:
_