Planet
Earth, early 21st century.
This shit was really hitting the fan.
Amid the tangled web that you call history,
one strand remains unchronicled.
And like the hoary old expression says,
history really is written by the victor.
Well, it would be so tedious
if it weren't so true.
If this were a more literate journal,
that for gotten fiver might be labelled the
Fightback.
And its dashing anti -hero?
That lum bersome beast, the
Catholic
Church.
Despite its rigid, hulking frame and it s faltering,
dog matic senses, the great beast could smell
that something was wrong, very wrong.
From the cast of usual suspects, the
Roman beast,
through all its liturgical flab and
ritualized blubber, still felt it knew the foe,
that ancient, original foe, woman.
Il
Papa's virtual army of seers and soothsayers,
long ago removed from the broader community's
heretics and then placed dir ectly
in the exclusive em ploy of the
Vatican, were mobilized.
Regiments of precogs and visionaries scanned the probable past,
present and futures.
The response came back vague
but overwhelming.
Yes, the
Mat riarch was on the move.
Where and how were shrouded in spells and incantations,
mirrors and illusions.
But the lumbering
Catholic beast knew it
must act immediately.
An d it did.
From the multitude of manacles placed upon the captive woman,
a somewhat different set
than those placed upon the captive man,
it chose one of its most formidable weapons—makeup.
Formulae long ago tortured out of hags and
sorceresses were pored over once again by
the
Pope's battalions of coun
tercraft advisers.
It's true.
For centuries, makeup had been utilized as a
medium -level combatant in the war against
the feminine magic, but its great potential had
never been even close to realized.
All the great perfumery and
cosmetic houses of
Europe were discreetly contacted.
Their response was, to say the least,
enthusiastic, of course.
They still knew where power resided and all
its ultimate benefits to themselves.
So the potions, the lotions,
the odors and the cosmetics were all subtly revised.
New extracts from forgotten animals and mysterious fungi were added,
blended to concoct alluring
scents and fragrances.
Oh, the power of anointment, long forgotten by the flock,
but forever prized by the shepherd.
The spells were simple, direct, exalt the material,
discard the spiritual, fawn at the
fraudulent foot of mammon, pollute the true cradle of nature,
worship blunder and folly.
Within the great tapestry of life, the
Roman beast's sorcery did indeed
cre ate distortions
and imperfections.
The weave grew thick and graceless,
new and bold designs snuffed out
by the staid and in transient thread.
Mammon regained his stultifying grip,
and the sour
stench of the
Vatican re -enveloped the globe.
But fear not, brave reader,
the matriarchal
Mys tery
Schools waited, watched patiently from the shadows,
and knew what was required.
Subs