August 24, 2012

• Fate (a paste job)

   

  A priest asked:  What is Fate, Master?

  And he answered:

  It is that which gives a beast of burden its reason for existence.

  It is that which men in former times had to bear upon their backs.

  It is that which has caused nations to build byways from City to City upon which carts and coaches pass, and alongside which inns have come to be built to stave off Hunger, Thirst and Weariness.

  And that is Fate?  said the priest.

  Fate ... I thought you said Freight, responded the Master.

  That's all right, said the priest.  I wanted to know what Freight was too.

     

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  Kehlog Albran 1933 - 1927     Man will never penetrate outer space. - Kehlog Albran, August 1942     Man will never penetrate outer space without a rocket. - Kehlog Albran, August 1962     "His power came from some great reservoir of distilled water, else it could not have been so transparent yet liquid, so apparently lacking sophistication while at the same time actually lacking sophistication.  So tasteless, yet wet."  - Clive Rodney Fark

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  The Profit by Kehlog Albran is a parody of The Prophet by Kahlil Gibran.  I love this book.  This is from the dust jacket:

   

  Kehlog Albran was a lifelong member of the Diner's Club and did much of his most creative writing there.  His style was that of a man with a much larger brain.  Born in Brest-Litovsk, much of his earlier work was published in his native dialect, in which language he is still greatly revered.  In an area embracing several hectares in that city, he is still looked upon as a demi-god.  His drawings and paintings have been exhibited in Quito, Ecuador.  His artistic and literary style have been compared by Chester Gould to the work of Ernest Bushmiller and by Bushmiller to the work of Gould.  Upon moving to America, his great desires were to write in his adopted language, English, to make a million dollars, and to retire from pseudo-philosophy so that he might open a chain of laundromats.  It is the world's loss that he never succeeded in writing in English.

  During much of Albran's lifetime, he was widely thought to be dead.  This confusion was the result of the trance-like state Albran affected at public appearances.  Conversely, as one might expect of so mystical a figure, after his death many of his followers continued to believe him still alive.  Various schools or sects ultimately developed: the Albran Lives School, the Albran Never Lived School and the Two Albrans Faction.

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  A scholar then asked:  Could you advise me of a proper vocation, Master?

  He then said:  Some men can earn their keep with the power of their minds.  Others must use their backs and hands. 
  This is the same in nature as it is with man.  Some animals acquire their food easily, such as rabbits, horses and elephants. 
  Other animals must struggle for their food, like flamingos, moles, and ants. 
  So you see, the nature of the vocation must fit the individual.

  But I have no abilities, desires, or talents, Master, the man sobbed.

  Have you thought of becoming a stockbroker?  the Master queried.

   

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  A philosopher stepped forward:  Master, is not a stone a microcosm, like an olive pit? 

  Recondite, willing to give but little of itself?

  Master, a stone may lie in a riverbed for an eon, giving nothing, observing all, wearing smooth, dwindling, slowly diminishing, until at last -- nothing. 
  But where is the stone of eons past? 
  In what context does it still exist? 
  Its atoms have spread across the seas. 
  Is it a stone still, Master, or is it part of us all?

  The Master replied:  Do you have a question to ask, or do you want to make a speech?

   

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  A quiet woman said,  Speak to us of Virtue.

  He then answered.

  Goodness and Kindness are popular Virtues. 
  Some Virtues are much older. 
  The serene chaos that is Courage, and the phenomenon of Unopened Consciousness have been known to the Great World eons longer than Extaboulism.

  Why is that? the woman inquired.

  Because I just made that word up, the Master said wisely.

   

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  A young merchant pushed through the throng asking, What is Money?

  The Master spoke: 
  Do not ply your wares beneath an avocado tree. 
  Do what you must with forked pleasure but never encrust a seed that is destined to rule the forest of men's minds.

  But what has that to do with Money, Master?  the young merchant asked.

  The elixir of life is like an earthworm's touch to a rose's sweetness or a length of thread as spurned by the very magnetism of Eartzil, the Master replied.

  I understand, the young merchant exclaimed.

  You do?  the Master replied.

   

   

   

   

  • 12:32 pm
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