Certainly one of the charms of Magellan's Log is the
diversity of its staff. No doubt the teachers at A.S. Neill's original Summerhill school
in England and I would find a lot to talk about based on our experience of trying to ride
creative herd over such an, shall we say, inventive group of people.
Somewhere out near the edge of my own particular group is Mr.
Chardo Blue Plains whom we, at his request, refer to generally as our "itinerant
mystic." "Itinerant" in Chardo's case means he never saw a rural Interstate
he didn't like. "Mystic" means, well, let's put it like this: If you took a cup
of Hildegard von Bingen, a couple of tablespoons of Patanjali, a pinch of Lao-Tze, and
just half-cup of William Blake, you might be getting close.
We rarely see Chardo in the office (the call of the Interstates,
don't you know), and when he does show up, it's only long enough to drop off his latest
(mercifully brief) thoughts inspired by the Great American Outback.
Over the years we have noticed that readers respond in one of two
ways. Chardo's words strike them either as the final proof of the deleterious effects of
40,000 miles of freeway without a single traffic light, or as proof that geography is
destiny.
That said, we pass on to you his latest, illustrated communiqué.
--Doc Cuddy.