February 6, 2010
And so, it came to pass that the 90th day was upon the land. And the 100th day was not far off. And still there was no sign of The Sick One, who continued to hide away in an alien hospital under alien laws, his ears blocked with alien cotton buds.
In his home land, far away, his people grew increasingly restless.
And Eminent Citizens from far and near held a meeting. Lawyers from far and near held a meeting. Even publicists and scribes, tired of simply writing about the crisis, came from far and near and held a meeting, for fear they might have to write not about the crisis, but an outright war.
They all spoke with the same voice. This is not good, they said. It is not good that The Sick One should leave the farm untended, for the crops could whither, and foxes and lions could eat the goats and bring forth war and famine.
But The Sick One's Number One lawyer stepped forward, armed with the kind of face only his pastor or his mother could love. His rugged mien glistened with sweat and menace as his eyes darted hither and thither. Farm? he asked, glowering. Farm? This is not about the farm or about the crops or the goats, he shouted, it is not about the foxes and the tigers. This is about the lion, the king of the jungle. And he is coming back to reclaim the jungle, and he is coming back to claim all those who have doubted him.
Friends abroad were incredulous, all of them white and yellow and pink. And their friends. We thought you said yours was a democracy, they laughed. How complicated is it for a sick man, whose medical treatment is being paid by the government, to give himself time to recover from sickness? And what sense does it make to hold all the people to ransom, and to tell the world you trust neither your own laws nor your deputy?
That got the attention of the Officer for Foreign Errands, who wanted everyone to remember he was in charge of Overseas Matters. It is not a question of ransom, he roared. The man is recovering nicely and will be back to work soon. Yes, I have not seen him but I know the way he thinks and I know he will return shortly.
Still, the people continued to grow restless. Some legal vulcanizers and titans went before judge after judge, taking every strand of the law for scrutiny. Many of the people left for the streets, convinced they must fight for themselves in the open.
They spoke freely on the short streets. They spoke even louder in the long streets. They spoke on the street that led to the village. They spoke louder on the street that led to the big city.
In the big city, they spoke loudly in the parks. They spoke even louder in the market place. A great thing was happening: the people were not afraid any more. They were bringing to the streets and the marketplaces the very things they had spoken about only in whispers for many years. A great liberty was upon the land. Perhaps something major was about to happen.
Sons and daughters in foreign lands were writing about it. Soon, they were rising and were walking the streets and demanding the righting of wrongs. Sons and daughters in lands farther away were writing about it as well. Soon, they were also walking the streets demanding the righting of wrongs.
It was clear the land would never be the same again.
No, no, no, said the Senior Soldier, once it became clear to him he had become part of the question. Not us, he said, we are not hunting for anyone, and we are not going hunting against anyone. We are just going to be good soldiers, defending the integrity of the land and its peoples. It is not our business exactly who goes, or who comes.
It came to pass that the matter came up in the great place of law, where they write the laws for all the people. There are two Houses there, a smaller House, which is actually the Big House, and a bigger House, which is actually the small House. They asked the many men and women of the Smaller House and the Bigger House to put on caps of Solomon and their love of their people, and make the decision that would serve the people best, as far as The Sick One was concerned.
Now, the smaller House which was actually the Big House, was run by a man with a lot of funny money. His money was funny because nobody knew where he found it. But everybody knew how he got to be sitting on the big chair in that House.
And he said, In this House, I have told you all before, We should pray for The Sick One. And although we think he should hand over office, if he pleases, let us continue to pray for him.
Then they turned to the bigger House, which was actually the smaller House, and said to its leader, a young man whose stomach had expanded considerably in a short time. And they said to him, as far as The Sick One is concerned, has your House made a wise decision that would best serve the people?
And he cleared his throat, the young man with the stomach. And he said, Yes, We think The Sick One should not be troubled by all this talk. He is a sick man and will be back.
And the scribes watching all these events wrote down every line. They turned to the palace chiefs of The Sick One, and said, You said in the past the people must wait for The Sick One, What do you think now?
Yes, they said, WE wait. Being sick is not a crime. And the palace is running smoothly.
It was nearing the 90th day as they spoke. Then was heard a voice amongst them saying, Wait, Wait, Wait!
It was the voice of a woman, a strong, forthright voice. All the chiefs turned in her direction. I know nobody expects me to say this, began she, but We at this table are becoming the problem...We, the chiefs are standing against the people while we pretend to speak for The Sick One. I fear a great plague upon us if we do not get out of the way. I fear we may be trampled upon by the people!
A new tumult then began, as the people, hearing this, began to jubilate. Sound the cymbals, they sang, A Damsel has come to judgment!
And the people danced and rejoiced in the streets, praising the Damsel. She was lost, they said, now she is found. She was gone, and now she is back. They praised her and called her Princess, forgiving her any previous sins.
But the word went forth, and found no favour in the ears of the Foremost Lady in all the land, the wife of The Sick One for whom there could be no life without power. This is a scandal, she cried, this is a slap on my right cheek and on my left cheek. With what soap shall I wash away this disgrace?
But the people listened not to her. Still, they danced. They dared her to meet them in the streets or to touch their Princess. Some of them called the Lawyer with the rugged face, each giving him a number. That number, he was told, was what was left of his days in office, following which he must repent in the nearest goal. Each night was a new nightmare, and he woke up screaming.
As it neared the 90th day, so it neared the 100th. Nobody could say for certain, but it was clear the nightfall was upon the land that would open to the new dawn. A new day judged by the law and the welfare of all the people.
A new day upon which it is written: this is for the people, all the people, not individuals overfed with unearned wealth or power. The day of the humble, run by the simple, for the good of all.
[email protected]
In his home land, far away, his people grew increasingly restless.
And Eminent Citizens from far and near held a meeting. Lawyers from far and near held a meeting. Even publicists and scribes, tired of simply writing about the crisis, came from far and near and held a meeting, for fear they might have to write not about the crisis, but an outright war.
They all spoke with the same voice. This is not good, they said. It is not good that The Sick One should leave the farm untended, for the crops could whither, and foxes and lions could eat the goats and bring forth war and famine.
But The Sick One's Number One lawyer stepped forward, armed with the kind of face only his pastor or his mother could love. His rugged mien glistened with sweat and menace as his eyes darted hither and thither. Farm? he asked, glowering. Farm? This is not about the farm or about the crops or the goats, he shouted, it is not about the foxes and the tigers. This is about the lion, the king of the jungle. And he is coming back to reclaim the jungle, and he is coming back to claim all those who have doubted him.
Friends abroad were incredulous, all of them white and yellow and pink. And their friends. We thought you said yours was a democracy, they laughed. How complicated is it for a sick man, whose medical treatment is being paid by the government, to give himself time to recover from sickness? And what sense does it make to hold all the people to ransom, and to tell the world you trust neither your own laws nor your deputy?
That got the attention of the Officer for Foreign Errands, who wanted everyone to remember he was in charge of Overseas Matters. It is not a question of ransom, he roared. The man is recovering nicely and will be back to work soon. Yes, I have not seen him but I know the way he thinks and I know he will return shortly.
Still, the people continued to grow restless. Some legal vulcanizers and titans went before judge after judge, taking every strand of the law for scrutiny. Many of the people left for the streets, convinced they must fight for themselves in the open.
They spoke freely on the short streets. They spoke even louder in the long streets. They spoke on the street that led to the village. They spoke louder on the street that led to the big city.
In the big city, they spoke loudly in the parks. They spoke even louder in the market place. A great thing was happening: the people were not afraid any more. They were bringing to the streets and the marketplaces the very things they had spoken about only in whispers for many years. A great liberty was upon the land. Perhaps something major was about to happen.
Sons and daughters in foreign lands were writing about it. Soon, they were rising and were walking the streets and demanding the righting of wrongs. Sons and daughters in lands farther away were writing about it as well. Soon, they were also walking the streets demanding the righting of wrongs.
It was clear the land would never be the same again.
No, no, no, said the Senior Soldier, once it became clear to him he had become part of the question. Not us, he said, we are not hunting for anyone, and we are not going hunting against anyone. We are just going to be good soldiers, defending the integrity of the land and its peoples. It is not our business exactly who goes, or who comes.
It came to pass that the matter came up in the great place of law, where they write the laws for all the people. There are two Houses there, a smaller House, which is actually the Big House, and a bigger House, which is actually the small House. They asked the many men and women of the Smaller House and the Bigger House to put on caps of Solomon and their love of their people, and make the decision that would serve the people best, as far as The Sick One was concerned.
Now, the smaller House which was actually the Big House, was run by a man with a lot of funny money. His money was funny because nobody knew where he found it. But everybody knew how he got to be sitting on the big chair in that House.
And he said, In this House, I have told you all before, We should pray for The Sick One. And although we think he should hand over office, if he pleases, let us continue to pray for him.
Then they turned to the bigger House, which was actually the smaller House, and said to its leader, a young man whose stomach had expanded considerably in a short time. And they said to him, as far as The Sick One is concerned, has your House made a wise decision that would best serve the people?
And he cleared his throat, the young man with the stomach. And he said, Yes, We think The Sick One should not be troubled by all this talk. He is a sick man and will be back.
And the scribes watching all these events wrote down every line. They turned to the palace chiefs of The Sick One, and said, You said in the past the people must wait for The Sick One, What do you think now?
Yes, they said, WE wait. Being sick is not a crime. And the palace is running smoothly.
It was nearing the 90th day as they spoke. Then was heard a voice amongst them saying, Wait, Wait, Wait!
It was the voice of a woman, a strong, forthright voice. All the chiefs turned in her direction. I know nobody expects me to say this, began she, but We at this table are becoming the problem...We, the chiefs are standing against the people while we pretend to speak for The Sick One. I fear a great plague upon us if we do not get out of the way. I fear we may be trampled upon by the people!
A new tumult then began, as the people, hearing this, began to jubilate. Sound the cymbals, they sang, A Damsel has come to judgment!
And the people danced and rejoiced in the streets, praising the Damsel. She was lost, they said, now she is found. She was gone, and now she is back. They praised her and called her Princess, forgiving her any previous sins.
But the word went forth, and found no favour in the ears of the Foremost Lady in all the land, the wife of The Sick One for whom there could be no life without power. This is a scandal, she cried, this is a slap on my right cheek and on my left cheek. With what soap shall I wash away this disgrace?
But the people listened not to her. Still, they danced. They dared her to meet them in the streets or to touch their Princess. Some of them called the Lawyer with the rugged face, each giving him a number. That number, he was told, was what was left of his days in office, following which he must repent in the nearest goal. Each night was a new nightmare, and he woke up screaming.
As it neared the 90th day, so it neared the 100th. Nobody could say for certain, but it was clear the nightfall was upon the land that would open to the new dawn. A new day judged by the law and the welfare of all the people.
A new day upon which it is written: this is for the people, all the people, not individuals overfed with unearned wealth or power. The day of the humble, run by the simple, for the good of all.
[email protected]
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