In 1775, there was an artist
who carried a warning from Boston to Lexington.
Ride on from Berkeley to Boston, Cassie.
I hear your voice in the darkness.
Cassie observes a pattern so consistent that it is no longer
possible to believe it is coincidence; confronts the government
secrecy that has concealed it; believes there are others who are
persecuted but do not know how to speak.
Her voice is joined by the voice of the artist scibe, who writes of the
destructive and terrifying intelligence agency tricks that are used to
attack her everywhere she goes, including in her own home. There
is no place she can escape the intrusion. Every moment of her life, she is aware that she
is being observed.
In these words, she speaks of the living hell they have made of
her existence:
"This system pervades every moment of my life.
I have the sense that every keystroke I enter is observed;
that my ways of doing things;
what kinds of intimidation are effective,
are being studied --
as if I am a set of statistics
instead of a human being with feelings."
The narrative that Cassie and scibe relate seems incredible, but -- in this country where it has been centuries
since we have confronted tyranny on our own shores, and we have little experience
dealing with either the need to speak up, or the difficulties that we must face to do so --
it is not without metaphoric meaning.
In a dream that Cassie relates,
the Goddess Athena speaks these words:
"Poet,
If the poets are silent, the invaders will not stop hurting people.
Instead, from their success in silencing you,
they will learn how to silence all the people,
and in your country's acceptance of seemingly small acts of intimidation
tyranny will flourish.
Poet, if no warning is given,
in the silence, your country will be no longer be free.
We ask for Sanctuary. We define sanctuary as a return to freedom for
our homelands.