Alchemists-alchemy as defined by the dictionary is the practice/art of turning base metals into gold-an attempt to alter an objects very nature.
To some degree or another I suspect we all try our hand at alchemy, thinking to retain possession of some worthless non functioning item and turning in into something useful-it is probably only on rare occasion that we actually succeed in doing so.
Too often it is a matter of dire necessity, perhaps sometimes merely a perceived challenge or simply an inclination to tinker.
It may be a broken appliance, a tool, or that bailing wire and duct taped held together rusting old vehicle gathering dust in the yard, which having seen better times no longer has the will or desire to take to the road again..but we prolong it’s misery with tinkering and talk of restoration.
We’ve had our share of alchemists, of tinkering, that has failed to transmute the common into gold and failed miserably. That isn’t to say they haven’t made a little gold for themselves, only that it has been selective and hasn’t trickled down.
There is nothing of value in the abduction, rape, and murder of Annie Mae-nothing of value in the shooting and subsequent death of Ray Robinson. What happened to Jancita Eagle Deer neither elevates or enriches anyone-yet word and situational alchemists have labored for decades to turn the cries for justice into a golden silence that serves only a select few.
The rust and corrosion that has taken root despite their efforts is evidence of their failure, evidence that base metals are not gold and will remain so-yet even in it’s glaring presence
they concoct new formulas and assume that the induced blindness they effected can be maintained if only the correct alchemy of words and denial are advanced.
All things are what they are-dirt has always been dirt and will remain to be, lies have always been lies and will remain to be, murder, rape, and destruction have always been murder, rape, and destruction and will remain to be.
Our would be alchemists may place a conical hat upon their head replete with mystical signs, or wrap themselves in “native” attire, but the reality is the wizards hat has in truth been little more than a dunce cap, transparent cover story, and at least in this situation clothes do not make the man.
Shovels to bury and conceal the dead have been their wands, and unlike a wizards wand they haven’t succeeded in making anything diappear.
In H.G. Wells classic tale The Time Machine a man travels forward into the future and finds himself in a landscape populated by the Eloi, an innocent and well intended people who live above ground.
Their counterparts are the Morlocks who have taken to subterranean caverns, and as the story progresses we learn that the Morlocks rule and breed the Eloi to feed upon-in many ways this same division has taken place and our version of the Morlocks have fed upon the nations misery to grow fat, the caves they have taken to have been alternately silence and denial.
No time traveler is coming to rescue us or our children, that is our responsibility, and it begins with removing the blinders we have worn for decades.