Travelling in the forest, making her way home, the Sphinx came to a clear place where in a Temple of stone was there. Old as the oldest things themselves, nonetheless, cleaned out with brushes and cared for. With wide steps up and grand pillars of painted stones to hold up the great roof, all picked out with horses and figures moving this and that along the facades. The fine entrance sweet with the smoke of braziers coiling and staining the walls there. The inside all dark with potential and sinister or not.
As the Sphinx made to make pass the place a voice came calling from within to say, Do you not ever rest your stone limbs in rest?
I have rested too long and now I am dynamic of energy motivated to go, replied the Sphinx to the voice with no face.
Then visit in curiosity or respect.
I have no meaning, said the Sphinx, why should give a fig for your respect.
Theses column which have appearance of structure the roof to withhold, are in actual the holders of all things in the Hierarchy of Men and are cast here immovable for your reflection.
I am not a big fan of the current Hierarchy, couched as it is in the power of Big Business, Patriarchy and Oil. Let me not come near these pernicious stones lest I am in anger made.
Stress ye not my immortal friend, these columns of the Temple of Riches are of sterner stuff manufactured and cannot be moved until the rich become poor and the poor become comfortable.
Don’t tempt me, said the Sphinx, in her quiet mind was asking, ‘What would Sheba have me to do?’
There is no tempt to be had, I only ask that you recognise the eternal shape of the world that can never be undone, and bend the knee to the inevitable, continued the hidden voice.
That does it, said the Sphinx and leant her shoulder against the greatest of pillars of the temple. The pillars went to creaking and some dust was drifting down but the weight of history and the inevitability of the ascendancy of cruel power held firm.
I can feel that I am not the creature for this destruction, a hierarchy of mankind devised must by mankind be destruct. The Sphinx was saying, come to think, I know just the thing and while I am returning, think on your iniquities and become disquieted, your reign is threatened. With thus the Sphinx left the clearing and came as fast as anything to Sheba’s laboratory of alchemic discovery.
Hello, said Sheba not looking up from her latest explosion, where have you been?
I have made mincemeat of the tiny despot and revealed his box of insanity with the connivance of a few immortal friends, but now I have a mission, impossible for me to concluded without your help.
My help, said Sheba looking up, now that is a first, how can I?
Well, said the Sphinx, suppressing her crazy and replacing it with the cold light, I have discovered the Temple of Doom for Poor People and Certainty for the Rich. I am in the planning stage of a mission to bring that Temple down.
That, if I may say, is a very long and weird name for a temple, said Sheba lifting her right eyebrow in interested questionable. If all is as you so say, then plan on, I am at your side as ever.
No matter the name, I made it up, but the point is that within this temple are the pillars which hold the hierarchy of rich and poweritude. Unfortunate, I cannot be part in its undoing because it is of men and women made and I am not, so I ask you for to bring a sample of confusion power to bear upon these pillars that the temple may be torn asunder and we may deconstruct this pernicious hierarchy and justice may prevail.
Sound like a grand plan, let’s go, said Sheba, I have a persuasive container full of the energy that is confusion to bring right here.
Putting up her hair in its clever place, Away! She said.
They left.
The Guardians of the Cave 