(Read: ~8 minutes)
Hello and welcome.
There are still a few stragglers finding their seats, but let’s go ahead and get started on time. I must say that this lovely theater in downtown Charlottesville is the perfect place to talk about La Bohème. Audiences here have seen an astounding variety of performances since the theater was built a couple lifetimes ago. The legendary magician Harry Houdini graced this stage, and countless vaudeville acts, too. Any given night might bring Shakespeare or European burlesque dancing, thought-provoking one-act plays or raunchy ventriloquists, clowns, jugglers, tumblers, singers, bands and the occasional medical oddity.
Most of us struggle to conceive of the amount of time that’s passed even since then. More recently, I’m told the theater came upon hard times back in the seventies and resorted to screening porn flicks just to survive stiff competition from mall theaters in the suburbs. But, the space was renovated a few years ago, and I’m sure the surfaces have been cleaned thoroughly.
When La Bohème performed, she usually got down from the stage to mingle, touch hands and pat the backs of adoring fans who came to see her. She made strangers feel recognized with small signs of appreciation, marking their brief time together. As for me, I’m not the subject of this talk and no one wants me touching them, so I’ll stay up here on stage. But, in a way, the story isn’t about La Bohème either. The story is about you and everyone interested in her life and death. By being here, you become part of a legacy she intended and skillfully implemented, others might say manipulated, which I’ll tell you about today. Whether you consider La Bohème a prophet or a phony, her influence is real and remains strong.
A few years back, before her murder, she attracted my attention while I looked for a story to write, one interesting enough for a big business magazine’s front cover, and the check that comes with the honor. My output had suffered around that time due to disinterest in just about everything. Maybe the symptoms were caused by low testosterone, or maybe the realization that time was running out and I had no idea what to do with what remained.
In order to get out of my house, I attended a conference in Silicon Valley promoting cryptocurrencies. Maybe I’d get lucky and stumble across something that interested me enough to pursue. Blockchains and cryptocurrencies were kind of outside my wheelhouse, but what the hell. It was something to do.
Honestly, I regretted the decision almost as soon as I got there. I was bored to tears. Yawning. Looking at my phone. After a couple hours, I figured I’d put in enough time to justify the trip, so I decided to leave.
Then, one of the speakers on the dais, who seemed vaguely familiar, started talking about a strip mall psychic named La Bohème. He claimed she stood poised to alter the course of both faith and commerce for years to come by launching a cryptocurrency on blockchain technology.
The speaker claimed the woman’s messages would never slip away into obscurity, like so many visionaries before her. And it was thanks to BohoCoin, a cryptocurrency which he said heralded a transformative model, his words, of investing in belief and owning faith.
He kept selling. Because supported by the sizable community coalescing around the fortune teller, my words, BohoCoin sought to bridge the worlds of tangible and virtual communities, digital and physical marketplaces. The digital life of a strange community called Bohemia.
Indeed, the man told the audience, the effort would be backed by hundreds of thousands of fervent supporters, each intent on owning a piece of the Bohemian movement with BohoCoin. The potential value would dwarf the cash flowing through the country’s biggest Christian megachurches.
That’s a lot of scratch, for sure.
Religion is big business. We all know that. Clearly joined at the hip. It’s right on our money. In God We Trust. OK. Seems like we trust God to provide a decent return on our investment. Not as sure about anything else. But hey, it’s on the currency so it must be true.
I admit it. This guy caught my attention. The notion of a cult leader creating her own money sounded absurd, but also amazing, ridiculous and fascinating.
I figured I might have stumbled onto something worth knowing, so I decided to meet her and started checking flights. Right here to Charlottesville, excited to come see the mystic’s home base as I surfed my phone for more information about her. And I didn’t notice that the panel had ended. Looking up, I finally realized I was one of the few people still in the auditorium. Everyone else had stood up and started to the exit, but not the speaker who pitched BohoCoin. He sat up there alone.
As our eyes met, he came bounding down the steps from the stage right towards me. “Sunny Wang,” he introduced himself, sticking out his right hand to shake, squeezing my fingers in a surprising grip.
What he said next about the psychic caught me off guard, since I’d just heard of the woman a few minutes before.
“La Bohème wants to meet you, too,” he stated, as if my plan were already common knowledge to them both.
Letting go of my hand, he pulled a small envelope from the inside pocket of his blue blazer and extended it, for me to take.
I paused. Didn’t take it. He smiled and extended it further towards me, with a little shake. “For you.”
“What is it?”
“It’s for you. From La Bohème. That’s all I know.”
I took envelope. “This is strange. You’re strange. How does she know me already. Who are you people?”
Sunny smiled. “I’m no different than you. I asked a lot of questions. Now I have answers.”
“How’d she know I’d be here?”
“Come find out,” he said with a wink, then waved to a woman across the room and mouthed “Just a second”, before turning his attention back to me. “Now there’s your invitation to Bohemia,” he said with a bow, then walked off before I could ask more questions.
The envelope. My name was written in florid calligraphy on the front, the back flap secured with a dab of wax, the outline of a dolphin pressed into it. Popping it open, I pulled out a piece of stationery adorned with the same dolphin. The handwritten message read, “A fortune awaits”, followed by a phone number.
Alarms buzzed inside my head. Everybody loves stories about charlatans and hypocrites. Spotting phonies comes to me naturally. But this time, I’d actually been invited. What the hell?
Then and there, I vowed to uncover how a psychic medium parlayed snake oil into a worldwide community of supporters, into her own cryptocurrency for God’s sake.
And I was going to find out who helped her.
And just so you know, I decided to do all this before I learned about Bohemia’s acid-fueled sex parties. That only came up in my research later. No bearing on my original decision to visit.
And let me clearly state right here. I don’t know who killed La Bohème.
And I know you really want to know.
But sorry, I can’t tell you.
I hope you’ll stick around anyway.
The deal is, if you’re here tonight, you already know that over the past year, the local cops and FBI failed to crack the case with all their fancy forensics and snooping capabilities.
Despite hundreds of interviews and countless hours spent combing through details of her life and the crime scene.
The details released publicly still leave crucial questions unanswered. Even now, the case remains open with an active tip line with no current suspects under investigation. And there’s folks who think that La Bohème committed suicide and the whole situation has been covered up, and I’m in on it. Or manipulated by it. I’m either really smart or really dumb. There’s no point adding more fuel to the dumpster fire of endless conspiracy theories about her death, or how I’m involved. But here goes anyway.
Yes, I admit to being there in the same building when she died.
But even so, you still know everything that I do about her murder.
Because the night it happened, I was on acid tripping my ass off and screwing a couple of women, neither of whom was my wife. That revelation ultimately got me off the suspect list, but also cost me my marriage. Given this admittedly shady behavior, you might wonder whether to trust my version of events going forward. And that’s fair. Because people make better money spreading bullshit than anyone ever makes exposing it.
Who decides which is which, anyway, anymore?
Anyone looking for motives for someone to murder La Bohème finds plenty in the Bohemian lifestyle. The money, faith, sex and drugs. Into all kinds of stuff known to bite back.
And La Bohème certainly attracted plenty of critics. Accused of making hazy predictions and offering vague advice. Taking advantage of vulnerable people.
On the other hand, believers point out how they looked for meaning in their life and how she helped find their answer. Thousands and thousands of people with similar stories, and the list is still growing. Even though this is where it all started, Charlottesville could never really keep the Bohemian movement forever, not as their own, it’s all too big now, open to everyone, anytime, anywhere. Even in coin form.
Which gives me an opportunity to plug the best part of this talk, the best-selling book on which it was based. Cover to cover, filled with the definitive account of the life of La Bohème. Of course, the work is available in any number of formats right now on your phone, tablet, e-reader.
Plenty of you already have devices out, like this gentleman here in the front row. Hello, sir, with your phone out, yes, talking to you!
You’re buying my book?
No? Then what are you doing?
He says he’s checking emails! Oh, brother.
Do you own a copy of the book? Digital?
For those that can’t hear, he says he plans to buy a copy soon. Well sir, there’s no better time than now. Go ahead and download it, we can wait. Or, if you want hardback, I’ll be signing copies in the lobby after the show. I’ll check back with you.
Until then, in the short time we spend together, let me help you understand the life and death of a miraculous woman and her fascinating power. Experience the relationship with her mother. Measure the impact of a lifelong doctor. Feel the influence of a mystic who foresaw a spectacular rise to fame. Listen to the roles of her lovers and business partners. They were all part of her, and part of her story.
Considering all the people who’ve been born on this planet, odds are at least one is born to wrap their head around space and time in a way most of us can’t, a metaphysical savant who grasps a different reality.
What comes next, some of you will believe and others won’t. Only you can decide the truth about her and what she means for life, death and forever. Until then, take a trip with me and dive into the meaning of La Bohème and an undeniable movement.
Arlo Gust 