THUS SPAKE GERRY THUSTRA II

O man, take care!
What does the deep midnight declare?
"I was asleep—
From a deep dream I woke and swear:—
The world is deep,
Deeper than day had been aware.
Deep is its woe—
Joy—deeper yet than agony:
Woe implores: Go!
But all joy wants eternity—
Wants deep, wants deep eternity

Nietzsche

At the beginning of the parable of the one legged cabby, Thomas is lost. He finds himself in ennui at best, dolor at the worst. He had not made his pittance for the day. By completing his daily goal he is enabled by the end of the month to take care of his needs, his rent, his food, his heat……..

At the last minute he espies the customer who can make his day…enable him to reach his daily goal.

He is stumped by the immediate goal. He knows not where it is and must seek direction from his employer. What is Northco? No that is not his question. Rather, where is NORTHCO. He is not in his present position capable of grasping what NORTHCO IS ANYWAY.

As oft times happens in life, we are only charged with the immediate task. One does not write a novel in a month or a week or a day. One does not build the Taj Mahal in a day or a week or a month. And we peons, we lowliest of the low (which represents 99% of all humankind) are not ‘let on’ to the grander plan as written in the sacred edict of the grand oligarchy. We are to only do our part, complete our small goal for the day.

Never assume the great professors of our day tell us. But we must assume or we cannot complete our tasks. We assume when we awaken that we are in our beds, in our own homes be they the grandest houses or the most meager of apartments. We assume the coffee pot is in the same place it has been for weeks and months on end. We assume there are no new holes in the flooring as we make our way to the bathroom from our beds. And so on. For that is our lot.

The powers that be tell our cabby what route to take for the destination of our fare. For three long years he has learned most of the routes available in this greater metropolitan area. He has driven in the rain before just as he has driven in the fog before or the snow storm before……

As soon as he takes the route suggested by his mentors, he begins to have misgivings of it all. Where am I really? What am I doing here, in this place, really? He has put himself in a spot where he must trust somebody or something in the outside world. A source that is not inner directed at all. And yet he cannot choose in midstream so to speak, he cannot opt for something different considering the circumstances. He must not admit to total chaos.

We shall return to Thomas at a later date. For now, think of the chaos. Ponder that chaos. Feel that chaos. For it is the reality of all life. We perceive patterns; we make assumptions only because we must have bearings of some sort.

THUS SPAKE GERRY THUSTRA

We shall now take a five minute break stated Horace, the blind leader of the tribe. Horace was the leader in that he was responsible for preparing the warehouse each day; collecting the remunerations each day; and cuing Gerry. Horace was like the agent.

Meanwhile Gerry Thustra adjusted his pajamas under his great flowing robe of red. His ‘costume’ had not changed in years, in decades really. His mustache and goatee were rather new, relatively. His booming voice had not changed over the decades at all, really, as he ventured into the new century finding himself at his own half century mark.

The flock present was around 900 good burban people. Lady shoppers and lady shop keepers. Businessmen and bums. Kids who would skip school from time to time. An eclectic crowd to be sure.

Now cometh Gerry Thustra, let the truth telling continue, shouted Horace the blind one.

Feeling the chaos may bring us peace at times. For we control very little while embarking on the path of mere mortals. We are angry at the powerful because they appear to have more control than us.

Now it is time for the Parable of “Sir Lionel”.

Sir Bors was one of four Knights of the Round Table to fulfill the Quest For the Holy Grail. Actually, according to the sage Mallory, Sir Bors embarked with his brother Lionel for the sacred prize.

The two knights from Brittany and lately from Camelot made their way on their journey to places unknown; to places unsung. Oh, they would find clues along the way. One great ogre who at first seemed to threaten a village turned out to be an oracle of sorts which led the two towards northern Wales from Cornwall.

During the last leg of that journey, the two questers stopped for repast at a local inn. The inners of this inn were quite mysterious. Dank and dark and dungeon like. There were four tables and they duly laid a coin upon the table, as was the Welsh custom and a fair maiden came with a pitcher of ale along with two large metal cups. A wash basis was provided as our heroes washed the road off of their faces and hands.

Just following their second pitcher, three rowdy knights appeared and a picked a table.

Bors and Lionel were so grateful to be served such a fine bird with baked roots that they barely heard the slights from the sinister crew sitting to their left. Just as the supping came to an end, one of the dark knights grabbed the maid and carried her out of the establishment.

Bors and Lionel immediately stood and yelled halt when the remaining two animals pulled their swords. Before the Camelot crew could react a sword went into Lionel’s back, causing excruciating pain. Bors, in two strokes of his mighty sword slew both knights.

He knelt down and tended to his brother.

I must retrieve the maiden from the evil horseman Lionel. Hold on until I return.

Sir Bors rose at once and ran to his steed, tracked down the maiden and brought her back to the inn after avenging Lionel’s wound. The opposing knight was struck asunder.

Upon his return, Bors found his brother without breath, dead to all the world.

A great dolour fell upon our hero, creating a wound from which he would never recover even after fulfilling his quest.

How should we judge our brothers?

THUS SPAKE GERRY THUSTRA!!!


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