Quite a few times I’ve been asked how I would explain my research to a child. This week that line of thought led me to imagine what a fairytale about it might look like. It wouldn’t, of course, have the specifics of my “follow the money” investigations, but rather come from a place of the heart. In this moment of more and more extreme behavior on the part of world governments, holding onto that space, clinging to hope and love and empowerment feels like a vital contribution. I’m not a writer of fiction, but I’ve done my level best to step up to the challenge I’ve set myself. I’m grateful to have embraced an odd-ball format for my blog – everything and the kitchen sink. This week it’s ogres.
Once upon a time, there was a community of ogres living on a remote mountaintop. Their great-great-great grandparents had trekked above the tree line years ago, no longer wishing to be friends with lesser beings. They chose an isolated spot where they could look down on everyone, and within a few years everyone forgot the path down off the mountain. They spent their days sipping lichen broth, feeling self-satisfied, and generally being irritable with one another.
The ogres’ village was so high up that cloud beings were their only companions, mysterious creatures who spun weather spells and gathered the stories of far-flung lands. Most days, clouds encircled the ogres’ compound bringing news to the desolate outpost. These transmissions were limited to ones and zeros, so the stories lacked vibrancy. Still, the ogres craved their daily dose of information and invented machines to capture and interpret it. Every bit of data they stowed away in a labyrinth of caves extending far back into the heart of the mountain. CONTINUE READING: How The Children Won Over The Cloud Beings – Wrench in the Gears