Home at Last
Alice, dear Alice, wherever she may be, will swirl through the dreams of all the women and all the men whomever they are meant to truly be. For the Alice in us is what is immortal in us. It is the part that will rise when we’ve buried the rest. Alice is merely a name, but it is that part that belongs to both me and you, the part that will live in the stories and hopes of the children that have yet to be born. Perhaps that is the answer to the source of all questions: Why must I die?  It is the kernel of our life after life… and what it is to live forever.  



Alice, of course, never really intended for her tale to be told. Theory has it that it was the concoction of an intellectual property lawyer who saw its release as an opportunity to exploit the unending market for fables and foibles. Indeed many of the original characters were highly offended by the mischaracterizations of their own self-perception. In fact, both the Queen and the Mad Hatter threatened to sue. But the barrister who originally devised the scheme deftly crafted signed pre-releases that for all practical purposes snuffed out any legal recourse. Thus the Alice Tale has found its way into legend and lore - perhaps not completely accurate but for the most part a fair rendition of what actually did occur.

However, there is a part and parcel of the whole affair that had never come to light - at least not until now. Somehow, somewhere, stuffed in a closet, along with other artifacts and papers recently unearthed was a another manuscript that simply rendered appears to be a musical score. The challenge for the team of archeologisst, editors, orchetrators and arrangers, led by composer and writer Stuart Diamond, was to interpret the fanciful notations into something that is readily interpretable to our modern ears. Thus what is heard here is at best an approximation of what might have been.

There is of course the ongoing metaphysical debate on what the word "being" of the title exactly means. Verb or gerund is always a discussion of the most delicate kind. The question whether it is essential beingness or the being of essence that is prime always generates great deference in Wonderland, especially so considering the nation’s range of beings and its derivatives. Alice, most naturally, on being asked of such matters could only say, "Heidegger, Heydegger, Ho!"