One Man`s Bible

20

"There's a rock there," the joker in front of you points out.

You couldn't fail to see a rock that size and are on the point of going around it, when you hear the joker say, "Try moving it!"

Why waste the energy, you wouldn't be able to move it anyway.

"So, you think an insensate rock can't be moved?" the joker says triumphantly.

You prefer to believe that is so.

"There's no harm trying," the joker's baiting you, and his face is all smiles.

You shake your head, not wanting to try something stupid like that.

"It's flawless and more solid than granite, a magnificent boulder!"

The joker circles the rock, clucking his tongue.

Even if it's a boulder, it's got nothing to do with you.

"What a solid foundation it would make, such a pity not to make use of it!" The joker can't stop himself from giving a big sigh.

You're not erecting a monument and you're not building a tomb, what would you want it for?

"Go on, try to move it!" The joker puts his arms around the rock and holds onto it.

You wouldn't be strong enough anyway.

"It wouldn't move even if you kicked it."

You're quite sure that is so, but still touch it with your foot.

This gets the joker all excited and he goes on baiting you, "Stand on it and have a go!"

Have a go at what? But succumbing to his egging you on, you stand on it.

"Don't move!" The joker circling the rock is, of course, also circling you. You don't know if he's watching the rock or watching you. You can't help following his eyes and, in so doing, you also turn a circle while standing on top of the rock.

At this point, the joker looks you squarely in the face, his eyes narrowing as he smiles, and says in a friendly tone, "So, it can't be moved!"

Naturally, he's talking about the rock and not you. You smile back at him and go to get down, but the joker puts up a hand and stops you, "Not so fast!"

He sticks out the index finger of his raised hand and, watching his finger, you let him talk on.

"Look, you've got to admit that this rock is solid and can't be moved, don't you?"

You have no choice but to agree.

"Feel it!"

The joker's pointing to the rock at your feet. You don't know what he wants you to feel, but, in any case, your feet are standing on the rock.

"Do you feel it?"

Does the joker want you to look at the rock or at your feet?

The joker's finger suddenly moves upward; he's pointing above your head, and you can't help looking up to the sky.

"The brightness and purity, transparency and boundlessness of the sky opens up the heart!"

You hear the joker talking, but the sun is hurting your eyes.

"What do you see?" the joker asks. "Try saying what you see, just say whatever you see!"

You try to look at the sky but see nothing and only get dizzy.

"Have a good look!"

"What do I actually have to look at?" you find you have to ask.

"The unblemished sky, the sky with its authentic, true light!"

You say the sun is hurting your eyes.

"That's right."

"What's right?" You close your eyes and there are gold stars inside your eyelids. Your feet are unsteady, and you go to get down off the rock again, but hear him next to you, reminding you: "What is right is that you are dizzy and not the rock."

"Of course…" You're getting confused.

"You are not the rock!" the joker says decisively.

"Of course I'm not the rock," you acknowledge. "Is it all right to come down?"

"You are far from being as solid as this rock! I'm talking about you!"

"Right, so I may as well-" You give him the answer he wants and go to step down.

"Don't be in such a hurry. But standing on the rock you can see farther than if you came down, right?"

"Of course." You again give him the answer he wants, without even thinking.

"In the distance right in front of you-don't look at your feet, I said, look in front of you-what do you see?"

"The horizon?"

"What's the horizon? There's always a horizon! I'm talking about above the horizon, have a good look-"

"At what?"

"Surely you see it?"

"Isn't it just sky?"

"Look again carefully!"

"It's no good," you say, blinded, "there are all sorts of bright colors…

"That's right, you can have any color you want. What a brilliant, beautiful sky, everything to be hoped for is right before your eyes, and you may be considered as having opened your eyes."

"Surely it's all right to get down now, isn't it?" You close your eyes.

"Look at the sun again! This time look again at the sun in its golden brilliance, its magnificence! You will discover, listen to me, you will discover miracles! Unimaginable miracles, the most beautiful miracles!"

"What miracles?" you ask as you cover your eyes with a hand.

The joker takes your other hand, and you feel there is a bit of support as you hear wind pouring into your ears. The joker gives a clue, "The world has such brilliance!"

The joker removes the hand you have over your eyes. You see in the sky an ink-blue-black bottomless pit and start worrying.

"You're worried, aren't you?" This joker is experienced. "When people see miracles they always get worried, otherwise why would they be called miracles?"

You say you want to sit down.

"Hold on a bit longer!" he commands you.

You say you really can't hold on any longer.

"Even if you can't, you have to. If others can hold on, why can't you?" he reprimands you.

Your legs give way, and, doubling over, you sprawl on the rock seeking his help and wanting to vomit.

"Open your mouth! If you want to shout then shout, if you want to call out then call out!"

So, following his instructions, you give a mighty roar but can't stop your nausea and chuck up a lot of bile.

Whether the cause is justice, an ideal, virtue, the most scientific ideology, or a heavenly endowed mission, it will cause a person mental and physical anguish, endless revolutions and repeated sacrifices. And God or savior, or heroes on a lesser scale, or exemplars on an even lesser scale, and the nation on a grand scale, and the Party above the nation, are all built on such a rock.

As soon as you open your mouth to shout, you fall into this joker's trap. The justice you seek is this joker, and you slaughter for this joker. So you must shout this joker's slogans and, losing your own voice, learn to parrot words; hence you are recreated, your memories erased. Having lost your head, you become this joker's follower and, even while not believing, you are forced to believe. Having become this joker's foot soldier and henchman, you sacrifice yourself for this joker, then, after he has done with you, you are discarded on the joker's altar to be buried alive with him or set on fire to enhance this joker's brilliant image. Your ashes must flutter along with the joker's in the wind until the joker is thoroughly dead, and, when the dust settles, you, like dust, too, will vanish.