A RELIGIOUS PRIEST
In the 7th century BC there were no Christians, there weren’t any Muslims and for sure there wasn’t a Church of England though there were more things in place to make the Church of England than to give rise to the prophet Muhammad and to the prophet that got himself a last name attributed to his capital punishment, Jesus Christ. Only the Buddha was more close to being born, somewhere in the 6th century.
Immediately I like to apologize to you for observing obvious matters such as there being no Jesus in the Seventh Century Before Christ; obviously! But what you must appreciate is that at this point in this plot I am just as lost as you are, I might have a couple of inklings more than you but that isn’t much to go on. You probably think I thought this through and that this is just another fiction of my mind’s eye. But as I tell you this with all honesty, I am just an avatar for a supraconsciousness that permeates all of human existence and somehow wriggles its way through all of us; except that some of us are more susceptible to it because we are less given to possessing a strong character. Some how these medium wishes to tell you of these very real events, and somehow you wish to hear them, even as you might not know that you want to hear them, at some level you have requested them, and I am just the messenger boy. In short the least important person here, since I am neither the originator nor the recipient, just a delivery boy, the least important person here is me. So when I say the obvious, Buddha was about to be born in the 6th century, I am just looking for clues just like you are, only I am looking for clues to decode the message so that you can read it.
Now with that important aside out of the way lets carry on.
In the 7th Century BC, there was only Habakkuk.
We are near a temple, I don’t know much about the 7th, so forgive me if I don’t know what faith or rituals this temple is here to assemble, but it is a gorgeous testament to the architects of the times. Maybe they slaughter bulls and goats here, maybe they take virgins and disrobe them by gently removing 500 meters of cloth from their sanctified bodies before a full moon, and tenderly release their spirits from their skins with ruby studded daggers, they sing.
Oh there! I spot him, before the temple is our boy and friend Habakkuk. He is staring at the goings in the temple. He approaches an Elder that is robed in sun yellow habit, Habakkuk tugs as his robe and the Elder holds it back as if this peasant were only going to cause him grief and malice; but Habakkuk does not know how to read the physical objection, and tugs at the man to ask of him what is happening in the temple. The elder replies with less hostility but still caught in some caution zone in-between sentences and worlds, “Thundering Unicorns, stars moving through the mortal night berating the diamond snakes and swallowing their evil...” The elder’s eyes were glowing like diamonds, and he seemed tranced though drugless, perhaps drugs would be more a requirement of later Western civilizations that would become so real that they could not enter dream states. “…the dawn is for us, for they, they are the damned… deaden ears hear, blind eyes see, virgins give thy long hair to the raging fires so as to seduce them…” Habakkuk, could not tell this but it was seemingly possible to believe that the trance had also induced sexual arousal within the robed elder, but for Habakkuk, he was a little scared, a little dizzy from the words, and so he took to observing and what he saw was merely a temple or synagogue or mosque that had five marvel columns, supporting an ornate circular but flat ceiling and seven layers of foundation which were observable because of their stair case whirls surrounding the temple. A chorus of young girls, five of them and alternatively aligned with the columns, though occasionally they would rotate counter clockwise and vice versa, slowly, while all holding the same seemingly bronze bowl, though Habakkuk did not know if bronze had already been discovered, and the girls, all in white tunics, rose and sat several times in slow motion, and then from the vessel each drank a bit of the liquid with the help of the others, as if they were sharing bull’s semen or goat’s milk; regardless some heavy white substance, and there the chorus would agitate itself as the one of them would sip the liquid. Perhaps, a semi intelligent anthropologist, would determine that this was some kind of a puberty ritual. It certainly lacked the spiritual overtones, that would be required of Thundering Unicorns, still the Elder did not seem as much interested in the girls, nor in his own state of being, but he was instead, seemingly glorifying something, his hands were now swirling up in the air, and he was looking at the heavens with his eyes close, and his robe was dancing with the wind, and Habakkuk was now sitting on the ground, running his hands through the sand, looking all the much like a bored little boy.
Habakkuk finally gets up and suddenly feels nausea, uttering a rancorous sound, he vomits digested snakes, and falls flat on his nose, hitting an edge rock that lacerates his forehead while acquiring a nice bloody nose in the process. This little scene serves to interrupt the ritual, the god’s must wait due to the fallibility of the human attention span. The girls place the bowl vessel down, run over to assist the fainted boy, while the old man takes account of the event and walks away in any direction. The girls meanwhile argue which one will take this boy home to allow him recovery, the vomited snakes and their hideous smell is not even noticed.
The humble home of one of the girls, whose name we never learn, they don’t call themselves much by names around these parts, they seem to talk to each other and the recipient seems to intuitively be aware of whom and why they are talking to him, so that the use of a name would seem something redundant or at least out of the way. Habakkuk is laying on a bed of rock, he doesn’t notice the back pain, he doesn’t take notice of discomfort, the rock doesn’t bother him, nor do I think they have mattresses in this era, so I guess no one would notice it, though there are two counted pillows by the rock bed. The girls mother is rubbing brush over the head wound, and the nose bleeding has stopped. Our little boy starts coming to, his eyes are watering as if crying but he is not crying, he sees the girl’s face first, she seems to him beautiful, he hears her calling him to come through, she moves her hands over his face, feeling it’s warmth, feeling the sweat, his breath still very much alive with dead snakes, she touches his lips with her fingers, her mother looks at her daughter, sensing in her a new maturity, the boy appears to still be coming through, when he vomits yet again, the mother utters, “how much snake skin did you eat boy?” the girl looks up at her mother sort of asking her to remain silent, Habakkuk rolls his head back and utters, “they disrobed the statue of the virgin, they disrobed the statue of the virgin,” daughter and mother stare at each other trying to make sense of the crazy uttering, “they took the statue of our lady from the darkness, they took the statue of our lady from the darkness,” mother and daughter are now truly lost, Habakkuk moving his head back and forth, slowly catching air while his murmurs utter, “…the monks have gone into hiding, the monks have gone into hiding…” the girl places her hands on Habakkuk’s stomach, his visions appear to cease, but as if the silence and confusion needed to be sealed shut forever, “…it is forbidden, it is forbidden, the three monks are hiding… two of the monks have women hair… it is forbidden…”
Just as quickly as that has been said, Habakkuk coughs violently, fevers ache all over his body, his cells are making war against him, he is lying on a bed of nails, he has red spots, big, little, star like spots with tiny little black centers that purple throughout his porous peripheries just like galaxies, only they are sores on the matter that is our Habakkuk. The Wise-One awakens him, “Habakkuk! Habakkuk!” his wide eyes open to the realm, “Habakkuk you can’t go on, you have to cease now or you are going to forget yourself.” Habakkuk stares at the room, walls of curtains with complex Indian patterns, candles and incense fervently burning, he is wearing a yellow robe, and his metaphysical comrade is wearing an orange robe, “ here drink this elephant dung tea, it will help your earth matter…” The tea is in a long spoon with a deep base, the monk smoothly twisting his hand in accordance with Habakkuk swallowing,” “Where am I.” “Your in Sopara Habakkuk, your in Sopara land of Indian, your in the 21st century AD, today is January, 20th of 2003.”
Having answered Habakkuk’s question the monk could have stopped but he sense that Habakkuk needed more to consecrate his physical adjustment after such a long journey. “You wanted to confirm the geometrical and emotional allocations of a local event within the ages that have transpired to confirm it’s present and future subjugation; I have been your guardian in this voyage of the spirit and you have been a brave soul.” He pauses and continues sensing that Habakkuk has recovered enough for questioning… “Did you confirm?” Habakkuk looks into the Monk’s eyes, straight at them, alert now, much alert now, “Yes my spiritual friend, I have confirmed the destiny of the moment.” The monk motions his head in approval, and then gets up and reminds his spirit friend, “You have a plane to catch to America, it leaves tomorrow, I was thinking that maybe you weren’t going to make it, but thankfully I was wrong.” Habakkuk lifting his body slowly, “the time will come when I can’t accomplish travels like these anymore, but such a time is not yet.” Spiritual friend smiles… “Well your going to have to explain away all those spiritual punishment spots around your body, but I don’t know how you will accomplish such a deed.” Monk had not seen the Western world, nor did he wish to, nor would he comprehend it as Habakkuk did, he was in fact in awe of Habakkuk for willing to endure such material excursions.
In his heart Habakkuk sensed that he had not a choice, he had been forsaken to the material world, there were others that had too been forsaken to that world, the world of the here and now, the world that today rings Monday, January 20, 2003; and Habakkuk had known that some had burnt themselves in it, that some had been to fragile to endure it, that some were wrongly born into it, and so he punished himself for being able to tolerate it; he was one of the one’s that had made it alive here, he hastened to leave Monk’s presence, he hugged his divine spirit gently, he did not wish to contaminate himself with any more spiritual aspirations; he knew that he was now needed here, Lauren was in his mind, he did not wish to be more spirit at this time, the gentle and fleeting hug was warmly understood by Monk. The channeled mysteries were finally emptied by a roaring of jet engines flying an Airbus 300 through the inhibiting atmosphere.
Immediately I like to apologize to you for observing obvious matters such as there being no Jesus in the Seventh Century Before Christ; obviously! But what you must appreciate is that at this point in this plot I am just as lost as you are, I might have a couple of inklings more than you but that isn’t much to go on. You probably think I thought this through and that this is just another fiction of my mind’s eye. But as I tell you this with all honesty, I am just an avatar for a supraconsciousness that permeates all of human existence and somehow wriggles its way through all of us; except that some of us are more susceptible to it because we are less given to possessing a strong character. Some how these medium wishes to tell you of these very real events, and somehow you wish to hear them, even as you might not know that you want to hear them, at some level you have requested them, and I am just the messenger boy. In short the least important person here, since I am neither the originator nor the recipient, just a delivery boy, the least important person here is me. So when I say the obvious, Buddha was about to be born in the 6th century, I am just looking for clues just like you are, only I am looking for clues to decode the message so that you can read it.
Now with that important aside out of the way lets carry on.
In the 7th Century BC, there was only Habakkuk.
We are near a temple, I don’t know much about the 7th, so forgive me if I don’t know what faith or rituals this temple is here to assemble, but it is a gorgeous testament to the architects of the times. Maybe they slaughter bulls and goats here, maybe they take virgins and disrobe them by gently removing 500 meters of cloth from their sanctified bodies before a full moon, and tenderly release their spirits from their skins with ruby studded daggers, they sing.
Oh there! I spot him, before the temple is our boy and friend Habakkuk. He is staring at the goings in the temple. He approaches an Elder that is robed in sun yellow habit, Habakkuk tugs as his robe and the Elder holds it back as if this peasant were only going to cause him grief and malice; but Habakkuk does not know how to read the physical objection, and tugs at the man to ask of him what is happening in the temple. The elder replies with less hostility but still caught in some caution zone in-between sentences and worlds, “Thundering Unicorns, stars moving through the mortal night berating the diamond snakes and swallowing their evil...” The elder’s eyes were glowing like diamonds, and he seemed tranced though drugless, perhaps drugs would be more a requirement of later Western civilizations that would become so real that they could not enter dream states. “…the dawn is for us, for they, they are the damned… deaden ears hear, blind eyes see, virgins give thy long hair to the raging fires so as to seduce them…” Habakkuk, could not tell this but it was seemingly possible to believe that the trance had also induced sexual arousal within the robed elder, but for Habakkuk, he was a little scared, a little dizzy from the words, and so he took to observing and what he saw was merely a temple or synagogue or mosque that had five marvel columns, supporting an ornate circular but flat ceiling and seven layers of foundation which were observable because of their stair case whirls surrounding the temple. A chorus of young girls, five of them and alternatively aligned with the columns, though occasionally they would rotate counter clockwise and vice versa, slowly, while all holding the same seemingly bronze bowl, though Habakkuk did not know if bronze had already been discovered, and the girls, all in white tunics, rose and sat several times in slow motion, and then from the vessel each drank a bit of the liquid with the help of the others, as if they were sharing bull’s semen or goat’s milk; regardless some heavy white substance, and there the chorus would agitate itself as the one of them would sip the liquid. Perhaps, a semi intelligent anthropologist, would determine that this was some kind of a puberty ritual. It certainly lacked the spiritual overtones, that would be required of Thundering Unicorns, still the Elder did not seem as much interested in the girls, nor in his own state of being, but he was instead, seemingly glorifying something, his hands were now swirling up in the air, and he was looking at the heavens with his eyes close, and his robe was dancing with the wind, and Habakkuk was now sitting on the ground, running his hands through the sand, looking all the much like a bored little boy.
Habakkuk finally gets up and suddenly feels nausea, uttering a rancorous sound, he vomits digested snakes, and falls flat on his nose, hitting an edge rock that lacerates his forehead while acquiring a nice bloody nose in the process. This little scene serves to interrupt the ritual, the god’s must wait due to the fallibility of the human attention span. The girls place the bowl vessel down, run over to assist the fainted boy, while the old man takes account of the event and walks away in any direction. The girls meanwhile argue which one will take this boy home to allow him recovery, the vomited snakes and their hideous smell is not even noticed.
The humble home of one of the girls, whose name we never learn, they don’t call themselves much by names around these parts, they seem to talk to each other and the recipient seems to intuitively be aware of whom and why they are talking to him, so that the use of a name would seem something redundant or at least out of the way. Habakkuk is laying on a bed of rock, he doesn’t notice the back pain, he doesn’t take notice of discomfort, the rock doesn’t bother him, nor do I think they have mattresses in this era, so I guess no one would notice it, though there are two counted pillows by the rock bed. The girls mother is rubbing brush over the head wound, and the nose bleeding has stopped. Our little boy starts coming to, his eyes are watering as if crying but he is not crying, he sees the girl’s face first, she seems to him beautiful, he hears her calling him to come through, she moves her hands over his face, feeling it’s warmth, feeling the sweat, his breath still very much alive with dead snakes, she touches his lips with her fingers, her mother looks at her daughter, sensing in her a new maturity, the boy appears to still be coming through, when he vomits yet again, the mother utters, “how much snake skin did you eat boy?” the girl looks up at her mother sort of asking her to remain silent, Habakkuk rolls his head back and utters, “they disrobed the statue of the virgin, they disrobed the statue of the virgin,” daughter and mother stare at each other trying to make sense of the crazy uttering, “they took the statue of our lady from the darkness, they took the statue of our lady from the darkness,” mother and daughter are now truly lost, Habakkuk moving his head back and forth, slowly catching air while his murmurs utter, “…the monks have gone into hiding, the monks have gone into hiding…” the girl places her hands on Habakkuk’s stomach, his visions appear to cease, but as if the silence and confusion needed to be sealed shut forever, “…it is forbidden, it is forbidden, the three monks are hiding… two of the monks have women hair… it is forbidden…”
Just as quickly as that has been said, Habakkuk coughs violently, fevers ache all over his body, his cells are making war against him, he is lying on a bed of nails, he has red spots, big, little, star like spots with tiny little black centers that purple throughout his porous peripheries just like galaxies, only they are sores on the matter that is our Habakkuk. The Wise-One awakens him, “Habakkuk! Habakkuk!” his wide eyes open to the realm, “Habakkuk you can’t go on, you have to cease now or you are going to forget yourself.” Habakkuk stares at the room, walls of curtains with complex Indian patterns, candles and incense fervently burning, he is wearing a yellow robe, and his metaphysical comrade is wearing an orange robe, “ here drink this elephant dung tea, it will help your earth matter…” The tea is in a long spoon with a deep base, the monk smoothly twisting his hand in accordance with Habakkuk swallowing,” “Where am I.” “Your in Sopara Habakkuk, your in Sopara land of Indian, your in the 21st century AD, today is January, 20th of 2003.”
Having answered Habakkuk’s question the monk could have stopped but he sense that Habakkuk needed more to consecrate his physical adjustment after such a long journey. “You wanted to confirm the geometrical and emotional allocations of a local event within the ages that have transpired to confirm it’s present and future subjugation; I have been your guardian in this voyage of the spirit and you have been a brave soul.” He pauses and continues sensing that Habakkuk has recovered enough for questioning… “Did you confirm?” Habakkuk looks into the Monk’s eyes, straight at them, alert now, much alert now, “Yes my spiritual friend, I have confirmed the destiny of the moment.” The monk motions his head in approval, and then gets up and reminds his spirit friend, “You have a plane to catch to America, it leaves tomorrow, I was thinking that maybe you weren’t going to make it, but thankfully I was wrong.” Habakkuk lifting his body slowly, “the time will come when I can’t accomplish travels like these anymore, but such a time is not yet.” Spiritual friend smiles… “Well your going to have to explain away all those spiritual punishment spots around your body, but I don’t know how you will accomplish such a deed.” Monk had not seen the Western world, nor did he wish to, nor would he comprehend it as Habakkuk did, he was in fact in awe of Habakkuk for willing to endure such material excursions.
In his heart Habakkuk sensed that he had not a choice, he had been forsaken to the material world, there were others that had too been forsaken to that world, the world of the here and now, the world that today rings Monday, January 20, 2003; and Habakkuk had known that some had burnt themselves in it, that some had been to fragile to endure it, that some were wrongly born into it, and so he punished himself for being able to tolerate it; he was one of the one’s that had made it alive here, he hastened to leave Monk’s presence, he hugged his divine spirit gently, he did not wish to contaminate himself with any more spiritual aspirations; he knew that he was now needed here, Lauren was in his mind, he did not wish to be more spirit at this time, the gentle and fleeting hug was warmly understood by Monk. The channeled mysteries were finally emptied by a roaring of jet engines flying an Airbus 300 through the inhibiting atmosphere.
posted by Ricardo Correa at 10:14 PM
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