Pyrate & David,

At the Mt. Lebanon Shaker Village site East of Albany on a tour of the 
site I was informed of plans not only to restore the buildings but also 
the landscape. I was concerned lest that meant cutting down the tall 
trees to make them smaller and older in appearance. It did not. Then I 
wondered since I have read that Mother Ann had a habit of going about 
and telling her flock that specific angels were standing invisibly in 
particular locations if there would be that sort of authenticity of 
detail in the restoration. I mean, someone should be able to figure out 
where Mother Ann said there was the Angel Gabriel as the Shakers were 
pretty good about writing down all sorts of observations about lesser 
matters.

][<en

P.S.

That was not, as we will see, by design or conscious intent. Let it 
suffice to say that in 60 billion years there was never in this one 
place ever a thought of murder, or suicide, not even the thought to kill 
an errant roach. Mention of this lack of a deadly character to this 
particular place is not intended to bring attention to a peculiarity of 
the space, nor to make it out as somehow more important than any other – 
there is no special power of faith here that emanates from a vortex of 
the divine cosmos to cause one to want to embrace life any more or less 
-- as to indicate that it looks not much like any other space occupied 
off and on by life, fairly regular people when you get down to it, that 
would be forgot other than it be mentioned, and modestly described here. 
You may yourself know very well of those that I speak.

But you may also suspect, as I have often considered, that this 
particular place where there has never been violence, or even the 
slightest hint of violence, not even a scream or a salted tear or the 
pin prick of a finger to bleed or the consumption of a poisoned apple, 
let alone a poisoned pickle as may be more appropriate for the Grinder, 
that such a space would not have any ghosts.

No spirits, and as such, it is a forbidden vacuity of a place without 
ghostly spirits.

No automatic writing, no table taps, no alphabet board guided by an 
invisible hand. A place where doors, front, back, sideways or 
unimaginable to open to other dimensions or even a trap door in the 
floor to capture the unwary and unsuspect would never mysteriously open 
and close seemingly of themselves. So it is like life that here the 
doors open and close because we consciously will them to open and close. 
One needs to use an arm or a leg and to push or pull or shove. Nothing 
is automatic in a dead free zone. That quality in and of itself can make 
one to feel oppressively confined.

][<

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