You can attack these things both in a rational and reasonable manner. You can take the gliff for 1734 and work with it, and that which it stands for, in good logical sequence. You can follow the logic from it’s beginning to it’s inevitable end and you can find and determine that answer. And in the process you can miss everything that is important in the search. But you’ll have it there. See? mapped out clearly, this point, leads to that point, leads to this other point, leads to the X on the map. See? here it is, the Roebuck! Ah Ha! You found it! Isn’t it Majestic?! Wow! And there is the Hind! Wow!You found the Goddess and Her Consort, the secrets of the Queen of Night and the Horned God rolled into One. Yes! You can take them, for they are freely given, and put on the crown of Horns and see the Crescent Moon between Her ears, the blaze on Her neck, and the dew on her breast! You can listen to the whispers in the shadows as they tell you of this Lord and that Lady, and reveal to you the darkest secrets of intricate ceremonies to do at precise times — and words! yes! Chants in languages long forgotten, secretly passed down only through the line of the true initiates. Yours, along with the magical powers, one for each tine on the Horned God’s head, and tip of the Horned Goddesses Crown.

And you’ll be lost in the land of illusion, with powers that do nothing except in the world of fantasy — for beneath the disguise of the Roebuck lies another totem of 1734. The Lapwing laughs and flaps Her Strong Wings as she flys away into the mists of the seven stars leaving you standing in wonder, seduced by the siren call of the Lady, unable to stop, unable to go on, ashamed of your folly, and in despair and discouragement thinking all of those years were lost on nothing. But the Lapwing laughs again, "Here! here! here!" She cries, "this way! And you follow again, heedless of the wounds and scars, and as you follow you find that the illusory powers, the imaginings, the fantasies fall away, revealing the true growth and strengths you have received in the never ending journey — now proud of the scars you bare, for you have earned them in your quest for Wisdom, whipped into frenzy by the muse who joyfully scourges you with the driving thirst for knowledge.

One day the forerunner of wisdom will be enough, and the whole drops away, and the real-ization of the true name will be there. Not in some arrangement of letters of the alphabet, but seared by fire on the flesh of your heart. What will you do to become Wise? Are you willing to pay the price?

Joseph B. Wilson