Chicken Little: The Inside Story (A Jungian ... - Inner City Books

116 Chicken Little: The Inside Story
“Hey there,” I said, “how are you feeling?”
“My dear young man,” chuckled Brillig. “I’m as happy as a pig
in poop. This reminds me of my stint in sandplay therapy. Did you
ever try it? It’s amazing what you can read from the scenes people
create in sand. Their psychic landscape takes shape according to
the arche-typal patterns constellated in the moment. Let us hope
Ms. Little’s will be as clear.”
“Okay, folks,” called Norman. “Everybody ready?”
We chorused yes.
“Lights!” cried Norman.
I pulled the switch.
Everything went dark except for the ray of red light from the
laser. It was eerie. We could just make out each other’s faces. Arnold
was in charge of the shutter, which was simply a large block
of wood he had to hold between the laser and the beam splitter until
he was given the signal.
Norman inserted a glass plate in the holder.
“Now,” he said quietly, activating Rachel’s egg-timer. Arnold
raised the shutter to allow the laser beam to do its magic. The red
ray bounced off mirrors to illuminate Brillig’s stone and lay a pattern
of light waves on the glass plate.
Ping! went the timer—and Arnold replaced the shutter.
Norman removed the plate and plopped it in the developer. He
swished it back and forth for a few minutes, then rinsed it off and
dunked it in the stop-bath. After fixing and a final wash with photoflo,
Rachel blasted it with her 1200-watt hair-dryer. When it was
completely dry, Norman held it at an angle in front of the laser
beam. On the surface of the plate we could see a spectral smear,
but the image beyond it was dull and lacked definition.
Viewing the hologram
“Visual noise,” said Norman, junking it.