Tuesday, November 25, 2014

The lion the witch and CS Lewis 4

4

We believe alone Eddie, though we will get back to him, and pick up from the three other children. The two other children did not see Eddie go in to the wardrobe, instead they saw Lucy opening the door.

Peter bellowed out: “Your it, Lucy. Give us account of 10, slowly.”

Lucy stared at the two older children, and looked at her feet. She mumbled something, and did not look up at them.

“What was that?” the girl cried out. “I didn't hear you.”

“I said that Eddie is behind the wardrobe wall.” this did not make sense, what did she mean by behind, instead of inside? Was she just being Lucy about things, and she meant that “behind” as soon “outside of” perhaps? Or was it something else? Peter looked behind, as in going around the outside and checking to see whether Eddie was outside of the wardrobe. Began back around and said: “ there is nobody there.”

“I didn't say he was behind wardrobe, I meant he is behind it the on inside.” She sniffed as if it made perfect sense.

Of course, it did not make any sense at all to the older children. “What do you mean, exactly, by that?” Ask Peter. Adding the phrase “ by that” was a way of nodding to his teacher, who often used the phrase when he was lecturing. Peter did so unconsciously by this point.

“He is inside the wardrobe, and out side in the world.”

“In here?” asked Sandra, “You do realize that's quite absurd on the face of it.” At this point she removed the wardrobe and pointed inside, thinking that there would be a “behind” at the bottom of this.

Then something wondrous happened. Peter and Sandra each pulled on one of the doorways, just to show Lucy how absurd it was, when their was outside creeping in through the doorway, just as if nothing had happened. There was a peak of green from the trees, and blue from the sky, though it was almost starting to turn towards night. It was not a scene out of Earth, because no where on earth could you have a blue that was towards the middle of the day, a crimson on the westerly horizon, and a black towards the east. It was quite a strange combination, indeed.

The two older children appeared quite slowly in to it, not being sure how it happened. They were treated to a magnificent sky, filled with a umber, in the very small corners, to a rich opalescent tableau in the center. It was quite the sight, and it did not miss a beat as if every wardrobe in the world shown like this. Outside in their world, it was gray, as gray as it came. There were lights, and if you looked very closely, you can see people going about their business. No one, at least no one who would care to mention it, looked up in to the window, and saw what was there.

But the children did, and looked at everything, down to the smallest of leaves, and the great orb of the sun, which was quite a good deal larger than our own sun, but much dimmer. If this were science fiction, even high science fiction, it would mean that the sun was dimmer, which includes seven it is, but he had not thought of this I think in the first book. Which is a little strange, because the sun is a great deal smaller than the earth, and in range of least one giant to snuff it out.

On the other hand, in stories written a long time ago, they didn't even think about the sun having a range at all, or there were quiet rumblings which noted that the sun was a good deal further away than they thought possible. So the imagining of this world is from a time where people knew that sun was a good deal further away, but they wanted to pretend that it was much closer then was possible. Such is the strangers of a time which is closer than close, but once to be further away into the blurring distance.

The two older children were amazed, simply amazed, but Lucy pointed to the sun and said: “ see I told you he was inside the wardrobe, and outside in the fresh air.” which was not exactly what she said, but small children do not recognize that they have misremembered what they said.

“I don't believe it.” which Sandra said in order to believe, where as Peter would have said it and meant that he really did not believe. This is the difference between most boys and most girls, girls really want to believe, and most boys want desperately not to believe, perhaps your experience might be different from mine.

Lucy went in to the coats, grabbing a short one as she passed into the forest. Peter was next, and just barely grabbed a coat from the arms of Sandra, who then placed a coat on her self. Then they were off together with Lucy leading the way, but she was not going to Thomas' place, because she remembered that the Queen's henchmen would already have been there, which removes one part of the story that CS Lewis had. Don't get me wrong, it's very good story snippet, but it doesn't actually make sense, Lucy would have known better than to even try it.

“So where are you we going?” Asked Sandra.

“Where going to find out where Eddie went to, would be my guess.” That was Peter of course.

“Wherever he is, he's in trouble, bank on it.” Sandra said. Don't you hate this “ this person said”, “that person said”, it really is a pain, which is why I don't do it in my story arc. After a while it really claws at the edges, and yet most people do it. It must be standard practice, and they don't even think about it. But it's annoying none the less.
Anyway, they all agreed that we're ever it was that Eddie had gotten him so into, it was the worst possible situation he could have gotten into. Only they didn't know that it was that much trouble.

What they did know, was that Eddie was thrashing around, aimlessly, going this way and that. They couldn't make out all of the tracks, but they found one pair of tracks out, which must be the one he decided on in the end. Than they saw a point where he stopped, and hit behind a tree, and then walked out in two plain site.

“There is trouble.” commented Sandra.

“What kind of trouble do you think it is?”

“Look at the...” that was Lucy, and she did not know that there were reindeer, because she had not seen them, even on TV.

“It seems unlikely that they were horses, perhaps deer, though I never seen them...” and then he stopped to, because this was not on earth, nor was it in the city, and this had delivered a blow, that had only just begun to sink in to all of their heads. They want on earth, they weren't in the city, and there were no parents anywhere. It was just them, and only them. At that moment through three of them realized that they were truly alone.

“If Eddie were not missing, the could go back and pretend that none of happened.” cried Sandra. But Peter interrupted her.

“I didn't see any wardrobe behind us, it was gone. Is that how you recollect it?”
Gradually all three children began to understand that they were trapped in this other place, until whatever it is they had to do here was finished. And first stop was to get Eddie, from the hands of his captor.

They split up and moved down the trail, towards what looked like a basin that was traveled over, there were a set of tracks. Clearly, these were deer tracks, not hoof prints, Because they clearly were by bi- not mono-. I realize that bi- and mono- are definitely not at the grade level that I'm trying to achieve, but they look nice and there is no reason for them to get themselves into trouble, because they are short enough to get by. Why should they be excluded, when “by” his all right?

They stared at deer tracks, and if they had been any holder they would have divine a good number of things, but Peter was 12, and they ran down the scale, so there grasp was very good, especially in what could be call “mountainous” regions that they, as city folk, were not privy to. The were, as my grand mother would say, flummox, and modifying word that is, even though you don't hear it so often. They were jostling and nudging, and even at the verge of a fight between Peter and Sandra. They were not the most well behaved people and the world.

At this moment, Lucy put her foot down and said “Is this what we're like when no one sees as?” the older two children stopped and were both ashamed, their aunt would be very cross with them, and so they said then selfs on their best behavior. And then something caught Peter's eye - though only for an instant.

“You there, behind the tree, what are you staring at?” Explained Peter.

At first there was no movement, but then there was shivering, and over that, hemming, though that was largely under the control of whoever was behind the curtain. It was a little taller than Lucy, though shorter than Eddie, and it was coated with fur, and of course this being the part where Peter, Sandra, and Lucy discovered beavers, was of course a male beaver. He was twice as tall as an ordinary beaver, and if you really looked at him, there would be something odd. And then it was discovered what it was. He could talk.

But he didn't want to, at least not until the humans talked, because he had never seen an actual talking human before. Very few people in Narnia did. And mostly they were Queen and a few giants, and without exception, except Aslan, they were thoroughly nasty people.
“You wouldn't hurt you, we promise.” Sandra promised, and she really did mean what she said. Oh by the way, do you believe in book 7 she was a traitor? It doesn't seem right to me, why would the person betray someplace that she had spent years growing to love? 
Their were characters which had a great deal less to gain.

Finally the beaver piped up, and said: “Your friend is off with the queen, that is not the story that we tell here. There have to be four, no more, no less. I suppose me and Ma Beaver will have to rescue you, because there isn't anyone else.” Papa Beaver was very matter of fact, much more so than CS Lewis would have liked.

“You would like to come with you.” said Peter. The girls both nodded in ascent.

“You do realize that Aslan will want to see you.” Explained the beaver, “ and he may be rough in his aspect.”

“Who is Aslan?” Queried Sandra.

“He is son of The King Over the Water.” This was the beaver talking, obviously.

“You're monarchy, how quaint.” Sandra replied.

“What other kind of system to you have?” Asked the beaver.

All three of them decided not to get into this, partially because it would be obvious which country they came from, where as this way, that isn't a problem.

“It doesn't matter, since, the moment, we are in... exact which country are we in any way?” Peter queried.

“Why, Narnia of course.” The beaver almost wrinkled his forehand as if anyone would know which country they are in.

“Then we are going to do things the Narnian way. So can we speak to the King Over the Water, or do we have to rely on Aslan?” Replied Peter.

“I have never heard of anyone talking directly to the King Over the Water, and I doubt it's ever been tried.” As they were talking they were also trailing behind the beaver, over hills and dales. Until finally they came to a pond which was clearly a beaver pond. “Let's go inside, you never know who might be listening.”

 So they did, and we will pick up their tail in a very short while.

Monday, November 24, 2014

the lion, the witch, and CS Lewis 3

3

As I said in the ending of the last post, Eddie is mean, really, really mean. Not in a CS Lewis kind of way, where he just fakes be made, but is rotten to the core of his time little body. This is because he is like Lucy, and nor is he like the older two members of the troop, where he has developed a conscience, he is only beginning, and that is a rough time to be. What it means first and foremost, is he's grouchy, grouchy beyond redemption. He doesn't need to be that way, but he is nonetheless.

And what's more, he wants to be grouchy, and find other people who are grouchy, and he doesn't know that some people are this way all of the time, and like it. So on like Eddie, there mean all of the time, not just a phase that there going through on the way to being and adult. Jadis was one of these people, and she knew it, and knew that most of the people who are like her outgrow it, so there is a short window to turn them really rotten.

Now in CS Lewis's version of the story, Edmond really isn't that bad, and he catches her at a very opportune time. This story doesn't tell it that way. The first we have to get back to our own world, and tell the story from the beginning. Or at least from my beginning, interleaved with CS Lewis's beginning.

In Lucy,s timeframe, it was about four hours, but for the others it was the blink of an eye, they didn't even notice that she was gone, which means that the time spent interleaving through the wardrobe was also missing, which would tell you something if you had read Einstein's papers in German, or some of the translations into English. Not one of the three noticed she was gone. Which means, as I said, wardrobe was not from this planet, but the ethereal world that CS Lewis call Narnia, which actually was in Italy.

Now here is a rub, why did it know that the second time through there was only one wardrobe, and a solid bottom? Think about it, if it were a property of the Empire beyond the sea, that is God, why did it one to draw Edmund and not anyone else? If her were not, then its under the control of God, which means there is some other power, reaching through the darkness and manipulating. And it has evil intent. Now it could be that God wants there to be a villain that comes with absolution, and that's all right, if you believe that free will exists. But even in these child stories, their our questions that tug at our strings. This leads back to what is called theological determinism, and other things of that very nature which is a glue that binds arguments together.

CS Lewis this not have the problem, because he really believes, and I do mean truly believes, that the world exists for God alone. And if you believe that as well, there isn't a problem, you just pick one to believing, whether esoteric or biblical, or some other kind, and you're done. But if you our like me, you want a good yarn without all of the theological clapped, and want some different mean, because honestly, it doesn't really makes sense in CS Lewis's world of 4004 BC. Which he may, or may not, have believed in. I think he was a long Deist rather then a short Deist, I may half to look it up, but I believe he adopted science and religion, but believed in religion rather more, at least that's what the people who want me to read his works want me to believe. I have another however. I really don't have the material of Narnia, though I can get it.

Anyway, in this story the little boy comes immediately in after her, to take her spot and her to getting caught, so seeing her rush outside the closet, he immediately rushes in to claim the spot, and he expected to close the door. But what he found was the same thing that she had discovered just a moment, his time, before. Being a little boy rather than girl, he trashed his way through the coats, just to make a mess of them, when he to discovered that there was a “beyond”, which he did not expect at all. You'll notice that I use certain words, because it called for, though I don't Use them in most of my writing. We will see if that will work, him not, and I will have to stick some where I did before. In my story, he didn't use an overcoat, he just tore off in two the early dawn. On like his sister, he was not concerned about keeping clean, and rather avidly made a mess. In his mind, he was free, totally free. Though he would not think of what “free” really meant, because it was an abstraction that had no meaning. His brother Peter would actually lecture him on this point, and he knew it.

Then he realized he was lost. Not lost as in “I can't find my way”, but lost seriously lost. All of a sudden he was worried, and frightened, and didn't exactly know where he was. One thing he was sure of, this was not the place which he had left from. Did get me wrong, where he left from it was cold, brutally bitterly cold, but he knew that this was something other then a backdoor, or some such, and it was not in the city, which he knew, but in the countryside, because he knew that, unlike Lucy, the trees were close together, which means they were young.

Fortunately for him he heard what word sleigh bells, which he had heard once before when on Christmas Eve the management of the town brought sleighs, he'd also heard them on the radio several times. But it was different, the bells were deeper, and more melodic. There was no high pitched sound like the bells were on Christmas Eve. So he did the logical thing and hid himself behind a very large oak tree, which was obviously here from the beginning, at least hundred years or more. But it wasn't good enough, and the witch new, in fact she stared in two his eyes as if he were straight in front of him, as opposed to behind the oak tree. She had magic, you see, the only one of two.

Of course he stopped right in is tracks, because while he getting know magic, he realized that their was something odd about her, and he did not one to find out what.

“I said you there,” continued the Queen, “ show your so at once. This is your last warning.”

He didn't need another warning, and stepped out in to the frigid frozen air, which had a flurry haze over everything. It was not exactly overcast, but almost.

Again continued the witch: “What are you?” Though she knew exactly what he was, but she wanted to make sure. Because their were certain creatures that looked like son of Adam, or daughter of Eve, but were not.

“I am Eddie, and I was just playing out in the snow.”

The Queen was satisfied that he was indeed a son of Adam, but she would have to find out whether you was one, or part of a group, because part of a group is much more dangerous. She knew that Aslan would follow right after them. And she had to be prepared for that instance.

“Come sit next to me, and tell me what stories you have.” actually there was only one story which she wanted to hear, and it began “we four set out...” they were a lot like Eddie and the Queen, they got straight to the point. He like this, and was comfortable with it. So he climbed out and the sleigh, which was quite tall, and grinned a lazy grin, and said “You look like a person I can to business with.”

“I'm sure we can work out and arrangement.” She smiled a ugly looking grin, and her footman grasp the sleigh bells, and with them into shape. They were talking, the Queen and Eddie, all the way back to the palace, which was not Cair Paravel, Though she keeps in good condition, probably to trap anyone from despoiling it.

At that moment, Eddie turned to the Queen, and ask her: “Where are we going?”
“Where going to the place where all business will be connected, is that all right with you?”

“Perfectly.” replied Eddie. Because it didn't matter, so long as it is fine for everyone, then it had to be good for him. Realize, deep in his darkened heart, there was mischief, though he didn't know what kind.

It wasn't a very long ride, though the foothills mast the entrance, their were four main foothills each one of them higher then the last. Finally, the footman, who was a bit shorter than Eddie, made a noise, which was to the horses, and the Queen motioned to Eddie that it was time to get out.

They were at the foot of an enormous stronghold, and it was blacker than soot. While the grand was white when it was not trod upon, it turned gray when it was mired with hoof prints, on those places where it was used, but those areas were narrow, indicating that only the Queen used the carriage, all of the rest went on foot, or used their own transportation. This was under by how few there were of reindeer, which was the only kind. There were no, for example, horses or oxen. The tower was only 30 feet tall, but wide, as if it were from the beginning of time, it had not a nick or a scratch on it face. Even the Queen bow before it, almost as if by reflex. Eddie thought that this was a place older, then man, or woman he reminded himself. The plan was rectangular in nature, and only slightly did it make stride steps upward. It was not impressive compared to buildings on Earth, bought it was towering and resonant here in its native plane.

“You can go in now.” The Queen was in a hurry, and her voice showed at. Eddie was not one to question orders from a person such as this. Nor was the Queen going to put up with this.

Going from out to in, there was a the rift of footman or other household people. It was almost as if there were no people but the Queen to service, which was true. The Queen had no need, for anyone because she was immortal, and therefore needed no King. This stop Eddie in is tracks, because he want to be the King, when he was old enough, but then he realized there was no Princess to follow the Queen. And this disturbs him very much, And the Queen definitely noticed it, and noted that she would be eliminated as soon as possible.

Looking at the Hall from the inside, it seemed much more spacious, but drab, the Queens taste ran to the minimum, and then some. There were only 12 pairs of flights, in a very large hall. Hence it was dark, very dark indeed, though the Windows and doorways had light in them. Which means they were not the Queens design, but she was living there. There were squares about 12 feet across along the ceiling, though not long the the walls.

“Is this your design?” He asked, though it probably wasn't.


 “I don't think I wish to answer that question, and in fact I don't want to answer any questions at all. What I would like to do is have you answer a very simple question. Are you alone, or do you have brother and sisters?” he noted that brother was singular, while sisters were plural, and that meant something. Though what he could not say what.

Sunday, November 23, 2014

the lion, the witch, and CS Lewis 2

2

There were crunching sounds under the Lucy feet. It was not something that she was used to, she was city bread, and she was used to only a little grass here and there. This expense, of not only grass but trees and brambles was a completely different story. Not only that, but she could not see a building in any direction, and that disconcerted her, almost as much as anything else. Also, there were mountain ranges, in every direction that she looked. She had not realized that there were so many. Actually they were foothills, but she saw them as towering. In the classic book by CS Lewis, this was not extraordinary, because the children were use to it, and thought nothing of it. But these children, coming from a different background, knew no such landscape. It might as well have been on the dark side of the moon, yes trees were there, but there were many more, and they were taller, most were second growth, that is they were densely packed in. what this means is before they are where trees, the entire forest was denuded, all of the trees were second growth. What Lucy did not know, was that someone had done so, rather recently. And that someone didn't like trees at all, not one bit.

Lucy had done one thing correctly, even though she hadn't realized at the time: she pulled off a coat that was exactly her size, and this became abundantly clear as to what a good move it was. It was warm and cozy, and she realized that that was a good thing indeed.

Then she found something that probably shouldn't have been there: it was a path, almost as if it were made for two small list people, like her. This was truly odd, because there had not been a path before. Again in Narnia, CS Lewis's style, this would not have been noticeable, but if you think about it, Lucy was flabbergasted. She had never seen the likes of this, ever. Think about it from her perspective, there were stars in abundance, not to or three dozen, there were foothills, which she thought of as towering mountains. All of this would be strange to her.

So when she saw a faun, it was almost a relief. Though she had never seen one, it's shape was a really to her. Though she had not seen one, she knew what it was like in her minds eye. She recognized it almost in an instant.

The faun was busy counting something, though Lucy did not know what it was.
“Hello. Who are you?” It took a minute for the fun to realize that this address was for him, he did not expect anyone to be watching him.

Instead of saying “hello” or any such thing, he took off his spectacles, and rubbed them. It was almost as if he did not believe his eyes. He put them back on, and sure enough, there was a girl, a real girl. What surprised her the most was his address, because he had never heard the phrase “hello” in his life. That phrase came in with the telephone, and not an instant before.

“Are you a daughter of Eve?”

Now think on this, it is very strange to hear your self called a daughter of Eve, or son of Adam, and don't get me started with all of the strange conglomerations that in my time are common, but in Lewis's time were hushed up, even though they knew them. The Greeks knew them, because they were common in their time, but the English hushed them up. Which was strange, until you realize, they did lot of hushing up. The Greeks did things the right way, and the English did wrong.

“What do you mean “Daughter of Eve”, mine mother isn't Eve.” Lucy was not yet inclined to think of things in the generic way.

“I mean our you a daughter of humanity?” In CS Lewis's time they would say “man” or “woman”. They would not say humanity, because it just didn't seem right, of course we do the reverse. That's because in Lewis's time there was perceived as a huge between men and women, because they wanted their to be a huge gap. Even your grandparents, and maybe even your parents, want to believe.

“That's a strange way of putting it, don't you think?” She had really expected “hello” to be the appropriate response, because she didn't know any better.

“I'm sorry if I don't know the correct response, to wherever you are from. Which, by the way, is where?” The faun did not grow cold in Lucy's response, not in the least. This should tell you something that was invisible to Lucy, namely he had something devious mind.

“I came in through the wardrobe, in the spare room, which the landlady has rented out.” CS Lewis of course had the room owned by the people who lived there, rather than someone else.

This was a step too far. Spare Roon could be Spare Oom, and wardrobe could be War Drab, but landlady was immediately recognizable as The Witch, in all of her nastiness. And other words, he was probably going to hang by his nails, or worse. But how did she find someone who looked like a daughter of Eve. 

“You don't say, from out of the Spare Oom.” Instead of getting the better of him, and thinking that this would be a capture for the witch, he assumed instead that the witch was going to tease him, and then torture him, which is not something that CS Lewis cares to dwell upon. But it is nasty, nonetheless.

Lucy saw that the faun was genuinely distressed, I don't know how else to put it, you will have two look it up, because I knew the words will be strange to you. “Mr. Faun would has taken you and shook you?”

“First of all you can call me Thomas, and down worry about my first name, it isn't important.”

“I can do that, but that isn't what has got you stammered.”

“No it's not, I know you are an agent of the witch. And that means your going to torture me, and then turned me over.”

Now Lucy though she had no experience with witches, know what they were, and she knew she hadn't met any of them. At least, she thought she had not, but one could never know. But one thing struck her, and it provoked not an instantaneous response, but something that bubbled up in side of her. Until finally it oozed out, and made her a sobbing mess. She was unable to speak, and for a time was crying. The faun saw her go from calm to agitated to try to sniff to finally a blubbering mess, all in about five minutes or so. He didn't know what to do, and he didn't know what to say, and he certainly didn't know how to proceed.

Finally she spoke and said: “Do you really think I would hit you, or anything like that? Maybe by youngest brother what, because he's mean. And maybe my older sister would think that it would be good idea, though she probably wouldn't in the end. But either I or Peter would never do anything like that. When I was very small, Peter took me aside and said do not do that, even if your brother or sister might, how shall I put it, egg you on. Its never a good idea in the end. So I have held fast and never done so again.” And she really meant it, as did her oldest brother. The middle to were different, and they would pinch, at least, and probably more so, often to get there way.

This cheered up both of them, it might have even and cheered up the faun more then each year to her, because she was only scared, he was more them that. He felt he was going to get a beating from somewhere, not from Lucy, but from a large and scary creature which she had hidden.

“Would you like to walk with me?” the faun suggested, though this sentence really needs a question. Think about this, and you will see what I mean? It just feels right, even though it looks interrogative. You can look up “interrogative” in the dictionary if you like. It is a common word, dressed up as if it his fancy. But don't believe it, it's just putting on ayre.

“Yes I would, thank you.” Her face was beaming ear to ear, so relieved was, I want say “countenance”, but I will say “face” instead. So merrily they formed a rhythm which only the two of them were aware of, it wasn't 4/4, or anything like it.

Soon they were inside of a cottage, built for a faun, or a little girl, it might, it might the younger boy, but not the two larger ones. Inside it their were titles such as “Man the Myth” and other absurdities, that CS Lewis loves to put on bookshelves when he's feeling impish. There also was a book in Turkish called “Arslan Tash”, though it is translated from the Turkish, and doesn't resemble English enemy respect. Deals with the story of the great witch grandmother, who was worshiped on earth, though she did not come from here.

But to Lucy, there were more books than any shall she had seen. It rivaled her grandmother's place, and even the local bookseller. And what is more, grandmother was not the best place to learn things, because she had medical textbooks, which were not the best place for Lucy to find reading material.

“Where did you get so many books, there must be hundreds here.” she was genuinely flabbergasted, what's more even the books she recognized, and their were a few of these, she had never read before. If you think about it, these were clues that not all of the books were native to this world, but smuggled and by means that you will hear about shortly.

The faun did not think he had so many books, except for Narnia during the cold winter when books were rationed, and he was able to slip some aside. This was a great deal more than naughty, it was a minor form of treason, which in kingdoms or Queendom was on the power with countenancing or imagining the death of the monarch, which is very bad, especially if the monarch really has power. Which, in this case, she did. But you will meet the Queen very soon, and you'll realize that CS Lewis was a good deal nicer then the real monarch would be.

She told him the story that her mother wanted to name the children, Ann, Martin, Rose, and Peter. He recounted that the Queen was named for Jadis in Persian, and she piped up that she'd heard Persian in some context. He didn't tell her that that clue was the final straw that she was from Earth, though he had never been there, he knew that that was the Ur-planet. Which is to say the origin of all of the planets, all of the rest of them are merely copies.

They fell into conversing, as if they were all friends, the way to people what if they had something to share. In the faun's case its that he knew he was caught, and their was nothing left but to enjoy some idol conversation, before being strung up, and all sorts of nastiness. In Lucy's case, she had never had a friend, at least not as Thomas was. Their were adults who were trying to test her, and children who were teasing her, and her siblings, who were trying best they could to the as far away from her as possible. Thus, Thomas was quite different from any of the categories that she had previously thought possible. And if you think back in to your childhood, that was a great deal and them some.

Than Thomas regaled her with the time he was 16, and already there was snow on the ground the entire winter. She believed him instantaneously, because that was just the nature of these things.

Then she realized, a great many minutes, even hours later, that she must be going. It was in fact a suggestion which came from Thomas, though subliminally. He realized that whatever guard was attached to her would have me the rounds, and would be reporting to his commander, and he knew what the orders would entail, because he had given such orders before, and did not like doing so. They were unpleasant, to say the least.

But Lucy was blind this, she had forgotten the earlier part of the story, and was engaged in all of the details of the present. Presently I will talk about Eddie, though as I am sick, it may be a few days before I will tell the story of the Queen and Eddie, which will be less polite them CS Lewis. I do want to remind you, that this will go no further them the pages of this blog, because, it is to close a parallel to the lion, the witch, and the wardrobe. So read it only for satisfaction.  

Saturday, November 22, 2014

the lion, the witch, and CS Lewis 1

For Michelle M
In between her studying of Sumerian and other tongues a bit of fun that we talked about.

It was not a long time ago, nor very far away, and even place wasn't exactly clear. That's all right, because it also could not be published in any form. It was just a story for fun, and it was taken by an old - or rather oldish - book that if you don't know it, then that will be all right, someone ran you will tell it to you, and the good thing is you don't have to leave them. It was late on in the year, not December, but very close to that. There was white on the ground, which was very unusual, people in fact are marked that they had never seen such cold in all their lives, and for many of them that was true. Even for many of them, though wasn't true, they said it anyway - that is how cold it was.

Many of the trope, which I know is not one of those words that I can use, but it fixed with the personality of the time. “Trope” is actually word that you know, but don't recognize in its form. You know Tropics, such as the Tropic of Cancer or the Tropic of Capricorn, and don't think anything of it, though of course, that it is in really the Tropic of Capricorn, or the Tropic of Cancer, because it has moved a bit in the zodiac. But what you don't know, probably, is that the word “trope” is a word that can have many meanings. So you two can decide if it's right for you.

Anyway in this story there are two brothers and sisters, which in the time of the original story was a bit large, but nothing to comment about. Now however it was either too large, or too small. There were dozens of babies, or their were a few. The other thing which needs to be mentioned, when there was for babies in a family, they were white, or at least cream colored, now however you need to say it doesn't really matter, or tell the exact shade that they were. These were African American, that is they weren't truly black, but mostly so, so much so that they could not realize there was a difference between themselves, and truly black children from Africa. Realize that had been obscured.

They were not particularly poor, but they did not have much to go on, this was ordinary for their times as well. There father, or rather fathers, since each one of them had been “conceived” , what a strange word that I really should have used “born” - since it has the same meaning, were all very different. Many white people would not understand this, and a good share of black people would not either, but if you were part of the set that using African American, you would know that there is a difference between someone who was from Ghana, and someone from Kenya. In fact there was a great deal more distance than between English and Korean. And, if I may say so, there was a lot more complacency about how much more they had in their pockets, because English people had more money, and Korean people were, for the most part, better able to take it, but the African American people were constantly given to - to put it politely - having more babies than either Americans or Korean parents. This is not some God given truth, but a product of where the babies were brought up. From the time that they were born, before they even knew their name, they were taught that more babies were good. Where as English, Korean, Chinese, and so on new that only a few babies were to be brought into the world, and some were not going to have any. As I said, this was not the idea of the babies, but of rich people who instructed them as to which they were part of.

Thus in the richer sections, there would be one baby, if that, as part of the picture.

Their mother was away, with a third job, and their aunt, who was truly their on, was downstairs talking on the telephone and watching some film, in other words, they were completely alone. The oldest boy, who was more studious, was trying to get through physics. The eldest sister, next in line, was both talking on her cell phone, and trying to do some basic grammar, though she was not getting what the example was teaching. The younger brother was not doing anything in particular, but he also didn't want to do anything. Then there was the little baby girl, who of course wasn't actually a baby anymore, but liked to pretend as if she was, reading a picture book from the library. It actually was due back some weeks ago, but she didn't notice it, and the eldest boy who might have, had not looked at the due date.

She was opening the book, and trying to read the text, but she had difficulty with some of the words. First she tried, then she procrastinated, or if you prefer, she was not reading but daydreaming. Then finally she would go and seek out the younger brother, who would know at least some of the words that she was guessing at.

“Can you help me read this?” She had screwed up her courage, and brightened her face to a dimple.
The younger brother, only two years older in fact, was not in the mood for such kind of games. He had, what he thought, was more important. In fact it really wasn't that important, but he thought it was, which was a distinction that children would get.

“CS Lewis? Who is that?” he looked outside and saw four white children dressed in furs. The outside was different. Instead of the inside opening up to the outside, there was a trick of perspective, where the inside was large, and it opened up, but it was smaller. This trick of perspective annoyed the younger brother, though he did not know why. He just knew that there was something wrong, which is more than Lucy, because that was her name, knew. He was called Eddie, though, of course. Edward was his real name. To complete the picture, Sandra was the middle sister, and Peter was the oldest brother. Of course I should pick names which were different, but those are the names, mostly, that CS Lewis picked.

“I don't know who CS Lewis was. It says on the back cover that he was English, where is English?” she looked up at him.

“ England. And name of the place is England.”

She pronounced it over and over again. “What kind of place is England?”

Actually, he didn't know what kind of place was England, he knew it was near to the center of the map then he was, but that's about it. He also knew, as almost the only thing he knew, that England was the center, and that they were interlopers, because he heard his mother and her sister saying that a long time ago, they were forced to speak English, only he had a feeling that it was further back than his grandparents era, maybe even great grandparents era. “That's the place where people really did speak English, as opposed to learning it from the enslavers.”

“Enslavers? What are those?”

“Along time ago we were free, and people in Africa. Then along came white people, and they enslaved us to their schemes.”

“And that was bad?” She asked.

“Definitely so.” He pronounced every single word with emphasis, that is with a pronouncement on each little word.

She thought about it, having never realized that there were any such things in the world, but that it must be so. Realize she didn't like Edward very much, though she had respect for anyone who was older. “And so the grandparents were converted to English speakers in that place?”

“I think so, but we should ask the older two, they may have a more precise opinion.” actually he hoped that they would do the talking, and he could sneak off, it was time for football, though I won't say which kind. Their are many kinds of football in the world.

So they got up and rushed in to Peter's room to ask questions. Rather she wanted to ask questions, and he wanted to get out of the responsibility.

“Peter,” Chimed Lucy, “may I ask you a question?”

Peter, willing to put beside him his own questions, where no one could answer them, and answer some of Lucy's questions which he may be able to answer, gave a nod. Then he realized, that he would have to say something, because he didn't know if Lucy understand. “What is it that you want to know?””

“Eddie says that England, where the English live, converted us from another kind of speaker, in to more English people. Is that true?” Lucy looked at him with rounded eyes, not seeing how this could be possible.

“Yes, in Africa we spoke a myriad, that lots of different languages, and they immediately set us up to speak only one. That would be English, and only English, though in the very long past their was disagreement between Dutch, and Swedish, and other places spoke Spanish or Portuguese.”

“Like the people across the street speak Spanish, and their parents only speak a little bit of English.”

It was at that exact moment that the oldest sister came in, she had just learned how to apply makeup too make her skin look better. “What's this fuss about.” She had just learned the word “fuss”, because that was not a word associated with one's they knew. She then expired: “ I'm bored, let's play a game, and not a board game, something like hide and go seek, that sort of came.”

Though Lucy protested, the other three children thought of this as a grand idea. Naturally, Peter was picked as the first to run, with all of the other children hiding. The children were not in a house that they owned, so they were careful not to scratch, or mar, the furniture. Each went off in his or her own direction, and quickly set about hiding from the other children, as much as from Peter.

While the other two children were set about on getting in to a covered area, Lucy was stuck in not knowing which way to go, and she said about using the whole apartment, which included rooms that she was not allowed to go into, normally. These were rooms set up so that they could be rented out by the week, not merely by the month. Every time the landlord took extra care to make sure that they were covered. In one room there was a wardrobe, which was unusual, and probably left by someone who had no use for. It was old, very old indeed, because it was through and through would, not of veneer of wood. She spy it and felt that this was the place to enter it, and she could hear the other children racing around, as if they were going to be caught up. So she had as best as she could, feeling that someone would be caught very soon.

She reached the wardrobe, and grasped its fine wood, smooth to the touch. She went in and closed it behind her, and thought that she would reach the back and of it, but she found there was a second row of furs behind, and then a third and forth row.

Then something spectacular happened, which you will of course guess. There were stars.

  
Not thousands, but millions of stars, so many much more than on earth. She reached in two space and found that there were branches, and trees, and rambles, this was not what she was expecting. Not at all.

What I can do next, it involves see cs lewis

 is write a story which is not  completely my own.  look for it in a few days.  it's on the lion,  to witch,  and CS Lewis.  obviously not for publication.

Wednesday, November 12, 2014

Good bye

And  fair the well.

Poet

In my eye is held, transfixed to memory,
and made into vision of high inspiration found,
the shape and form of leaf'd trees,
In  the age of   squandering night.

To steal away the ruins of lust,
To find more time than is is want
To steal more than is its needs
until everlost it stand and sit

waiting for the day that comes
waiting for the day that comes

Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Marne 7

4

There was an order to his mad, mad, mad rush to existence. When he last moved out between the stars, it was he alone, and he didn't like that, at all, this time when moved out among the whispers of conjunctions, there was the glimmering of what could only be called the that magnificent order. One by one, it had come in to focus. Now he was under the command, though he did not know if that was the end of it, but he was assured that the reins were tightly controlled by someone, and he did not care by who. It was just enough to know that he reported to someone, and the rest was none of his business.

Duty was in his life, order and duty, duty and order. That was all you needed to know, and all you had to know, if you were Lieut. In a vast cog of a machine that you did not even know who it was answered to, and did not care. He did not care, he did not want to care, he did not wish to care. All that remains is order duty discipline, that is all there was, and all that there should ever be. What people do not realize, is that there is a view grains of sand that are thinking something new, and the rest is just repetitive. Whether alive or dead, there are very few things that matter.

Order, duty, discipline. That was the new order of things, as opposed to liberty, equality, fraternity, which was the old doctrine of France, proclaimed on banners for over 100 years. Now there was a new order in the world. A new order which would one day rule the world, so he and the others thought. It was crisp, and clean. And get stood apart from the old order, the old ways, and the old feelings, which had ruled the 19th century. This was a new order, for a different age, one that would crush the life out of the old.

On the telegraph, itself a new thing, he heard the beginning of message, which he new would be taken down, with punctuality, by his third mate. Even so it was good to know that there was a person who, was like you, on one side, and was comfortable with all that entails. Even if that side was dark, and ominous. Only a view second after the telegraph hit, there was a translation from the junior officer, and it read:

“You are to link up with another dirigible. Then the two of you will hunt down the guns that are aimed at our troops. It is imperative that you take out the guns. You will have to do this in 24 hours.”

Obviously, the immediate threat to the upper echelon, where the guns which were popping up and down the Belgian border, and not the guns which were in Paris. He disagreed, but he had his orders, and would carry them out, to the letter. But privately he worried that this would not do, but order, discipline, duty carried the day with him. And he would do things as his superiors wanted to do. The but the orders in this upper vest pocket, and said to the first commander: “ we have to get back, and link up with a second dirigible. Then when we have done that we will put these objects back in shape in 24 hours, and take the Belgian line.”

He did look at is first in command, because he knew that he would be obeyed, that is he put orders out to cut the engines. Though out of the corner of his eye, he looked for a nod. Out of the corner of his, though hesitant, there came a brief, but he thought firm, nod. In actual fact, it was only half a nod, which would be denied if things did not go right.

But things did go right, indeed splendidly so. The engines floated gracefully to a standstill, and for just a moment, all of the ship stopped. Everything clambered to a stop, though the noise was unbearable, and everything on the engine wheezed a bit as it grew to a stop. But he was used to that, as were most of his crew. The exception was the third Lieut. which vomited out a bit, though it was almost not to be noticed. This was in fact exceptional, because, remember, he and everyone else was dead. But they were in a sense living.

Then the dirigible eased it self down on the ground, and gently pulled the over, and righted itself gently. It rolled around as if to say that that was all. Once again, where was this common from? He imagined that this was a dream world, but we're was the sound coming from, if it had been an illusion, then why did the other people here at? Unless they were all delusions to, a dream which only existed in his head. One can never really tell if this is true, mind you, even relatively saying men can look back over there shoulder, and wonder just for a moment, whether this is all just and illusion, but they think nothing of it, and go back to their business. He himself, jostled with those dreams and thought nothing of it. But now, knowing that he was dead, at least so he thought, it had grown to a scream, and ever present wine, that was growing to the ripeness of fruit, as if it were communion and he was the sole celebrant to an individual mass. But ordinarily, this would not be a problem, because he would look at the other people, and say it I am this way, so must everyone else be. And that was as comforting as it had to be. But that is life, what about Death?

Death with all of its uncertainties, had within the gread uncertainty, how was it possible to have a living death? Was it a flash, with nothing after that, a dream that would vanish and leave nothing in return? He did not like to think about that, because that would truly be nothing.

And endless state of nothing was truly horrible to think about, even worse than what he had, with new past, no future, just the endless drone, and knowing nothing but the present, and what he thought were companions. But worse is that it was truly just a grotesque façade, which gave way to truly endless space. Then he looked around, at all that he could see, and convince himself, that this was not an illusion. But death again stared in the face, and mocked him, as if to say “so what am I? If that is life, what am I?” And in truth he did not have a response, though he would not admit it to anyone but himself.

Then he brushed himself off, resolving never to think about this again, and only to think about tangible things instead. Knobs, journals, charts, and all things that screamed out to touch them instead. Everything that was real, however, had a form that was unreal, even the man who he knew was his second-in-command, weaving and bobbing forward and aft.

So he ordered himself to not think about anymore, and if he did, he would go back to thinking about the clean underwear, and all of the other trimmings, that competed with each other, even though he knew from school that this too was a figment of his imagination, and his eyes did not see all that he thought them to see. The minds eye filled in the details, that the retina glossed over, and fooled eye in to believing, even though it did not.

And illusion within an illusion, within an a fantasy, how could this truly be real? It made no sense, and though he could keep it from occupying the very center of his attention, along the edges of what seemed to be his eyesight, there was a cold crisp reality that would not be denied. At this point, he bumped up against his second-in-command, and was reassured, that this was all just an illusion, and their could not be anything to it. Than he stopped, and wondered if that was something that he read, or was it a phantasm, that would be put down, and he was dreaming about putting it down so that someone else could write.

He slowed down, to avoid hitting for the third time is second in command in the rear end, though he had to admit that it was good to hit him, because it was a firm feeling, that the heading of him was a firm grasp. Hitting him was a true test that there was something else visible. Thus, he could put away any blaring shrill contortions, he did not know what would become of them, but he knew right now, that he would follow orders, and that was enough for him.

In the garage, which was widely spaced, and another crew was already in there, talking, smoking, drinking, with veins being loaded up with cocaine, and unmentionable things, far worse then could be described. They filed in, with discipline one might add. He bellowed up his voice, if only to hear it, and feel it.

“We have been all the way to Paris, and it was a long trip. So give us around of applause, because we were going to go back there, with our pants on fire.”

Some of the listeners were truly out of it, and did not hear what he was saying. Another have were not listening, but they might have been. Then the second-in-command of the other ship spoke out and said: “Better that you didn't make it, because they were going to warm your hands over it.

“Then we ring down on with a fierce delight, I assure you.”

There were more exchanges, of this sort, which I will spare you. But they were as bad as these, if worse. I give you only a taste of what “bad”. Actually, this was the best of the lot, it got worse from there, if you can believe it. But fortunately, after having a few words, and a few phrases, which was different, the commander looked for a tired chair to sit down on, the he wanted companionship, he realized that this was not the companionship he desired. It was such a mess, when he was in the air, he wanted to be on the ground, when he was on the ground, you want to be inside the garage, when he was in the garage, his the mind drifted ever outwards to the sitting in the one place where he was solely in charge. He stopped himself, and asked himself what he was doing. You thought about this, and the answer was to find the commander, and get orders from him, just to make sure that he had direction. Though, actually, he was sure that the orders were correct.

Not that he was unsure, but just to make sure that the orders were legitimate, because it was extremely tight with the deadlines. And he wanted to be sure, in fact in a state of readiness, that nothing could be taken for granted. So he knocked past the stupor minions, who were taking their time, oblivious to anything, and headed back to a cubicle which was the commanders entrance, which had not been filled, and tell recently. In fact, he had not even seen the commander, so he wanted to be sure that this was legitimate and correct.

He stood in the doorway, and adjusted his eyes. Hunched over bearing on the of work, was a Large middle-aged man, with only hair on the sides of his neck. In fact, it wasn't exactly clear, where the head ended and the neck began.

With all of that, there was something round, smooth, and entirely feminine about him, as if he were on used to doing any sort of work other than pushing a pencil. And not very much of that. Mostly, he sat and scrawled a view notes on the inside, and that was it. One could see, red writing coming from his pen, though there was black writing on the page, with only light scratchings that could be notation and then sent back to whoever was correcting. In other words, he was going over papers from those beneath him, and not above him. This then turned in the commanders mind that there was no one above, that this was the ultimate Cmdr., at least for the meantime.

“Does anyone know that there is no one above you?” It was a direct statement from himself to the commander.

With and air of nonchalance, without even looking up from the table, “ until now, no one has mentioned it, and I would like you not to mention it again. Rest assured, there will be others presently, and they will have powers greater than mine. Remember, their has not been a war in 40 years, give or take.” It seemed rather nonchalant, this way that his commander was speaking. “And in any event, once the main course arrives, it will not be long. This is a short conflict.”

“Are you sure about that.”

“If it becomes certain that this will go on, then we'll be dead, again.”

“Who are the higher ups, in any case? Do you know?”

“No I don't, and I don't inquire. That is not my proper place to know. If a commander of above me walks into the room, I will salute, and to my duty. Where only here for a short while, anyway. Then we will be gone, and the next will replace us. Where dead, what does it matter what happens next? In a day, in a week, in two weeks, in 10, it's all the same to me. And it should be to you. “

This is exactly what he was telling himself, but it was daunting to hear it from someone else, at least he thought this was someone else.

“Understood, Sir.” and he turned himself, and made no mention of what had been said. It was if he had a conversation with himself, and gotten the response that he had always suspected.

“Dismissed.” though the commander did not look up, even the salute was done into the air, rather than at his face. Which was a very rude thing to do. He expected better from a superior officer.

But obviously, that was not how it was going to be.

Almost retreating from his conversation with the commander, he retreated lightheartedly, as not to disturb the few who were still conscious. Obviously, he would do his duty as best he could. But if this was all, if all death was a crying interval, until you were truly dead, then maybe he would have think about whether this was truly what he wanted. Maybe there was a better way, may be order duty and discipline were not all they were cracked up to be. Maybe he should think anew, and come to some better conclusions, he had already died once before. And maybe he would die more than once. Isn't that a terrible thought?

He looked inside the garage, with all of the people standing or sitting, and wondered what would become of them. Is this all there was?

 It seemed so, and the taste in his mouth was dry, he could see that behind him were a dozen other men who would take his place. And remember, he was the cream of the crop. The best of the very best. What would it be like for poilus who populated the ranks of France, or the iron youth of Germany?

Friday, November 7, 2014

Rendition 15

4
For I have laid upon the the years of their iniquity of the house of Israel upon: according to the number of days that thou shalt lie upon it down shall bear their iniquity.
Ezekiel 4:4

“So you found what you're looking for?”

“I found what you were looking for, which is more important.”

“What's that?”

“A name which controls part of Syria, part of Iraq, and is mentioned by anyone. Interested Dig?”

“If it's really the name we are interested in, there are innumerable shysters, and, I'm sorry to say, your definitely on that list.”

“What do I have to do, to get off the list?”

“You give me the name, and if it works out, you can have the reward if it's true.”

“That's not much of a prize, because you could snuff it out and then say it wasn't anything."

“Then you could have nothing, if you like, that's the alternative. And as alternative go they only get worse from there.”

“What if I take my chances?”

“Then we give the money to someone needing, someone who graduated from the right college, for example.”
“So what you're saying is that you only want to play with certain people, and I'm not on the list.”

“You can get on the list, and that's worth something, because then in the present you might be on the list next time.”

“It seems like I been demoted.”

“You could say that, I would use of more euphemistic phrase then that.”

“ I thought I was using a euphemism.”

“Even the euphemisms have been denied, that much I can tell you, but your not on list to know the new euphemisms. I'm sorry about that, the call that was made over my head.”

“That's all right, I can get the new euphemisms from someone with a potty mouth. There are plenty of people who still beans when they, how does one say, get leave it drunk.”

There was a pause, which even Ms. Bright could hear, the she wasn't home the line, exactly.
Finally Dig said, “I'm sure there are, but I didn't think that you'd know enough of them. It means that a new President needs to be put in place.”

“There working on it.'”

“No comment.” which meant that yes a new president was coming to office, and it seemed as if it would be of a different party. At least that was the rumor going around town, and by town, I mean Washington. Really there are three places in America, the city, that's New York. The town, that's Washington DC, and the rest which pops up from time to time, though Los Angeles and Boston our the most problems. But realize, Boston and LA our close together in the minds of people in the City, and the Town. That's the way they looked from there, any rate.



Anyplace else, was part of the back lot, accept Mars and the moon, which were beyond remote. Though India had designs on Mars, which would make it, eventually, part of the grand design of things. Though that was anyone's guess as to exactly the moment that that happened. It would have been in stages, of course, a few people would new, and then more, and ,then more, until finally it was a reality that no one could to deny.

Thursday, November 6, 2014

Rendition 14

3
And he said unto me, son of man, go, get the undo the house of Israel, and speak with my words unto them.

Ezekiel 3:4

Coffee is a poison, and it was eating at the back of his head. His fourth small pot of silky, silty black elixir, and left him feeling light. It was in this mood that he noticed that one particular individual was being allowed to sit without drinking anything. Normally he would have been hurried off, unless he were a regular customer or had some particular connection. But it was clear from his almost befuddled looks at who was employed there talking to him, that he was not a habitue of this particular place.

So Apostle stood up walked over, pulled out a bag, inside of which was a chess clock, and rolled up board, and sat down.

“Chess?”

The man, a ragged beard, at the bottom of a pointed face and prominent nose, topped with a ragged turban and poorly chopped chopped hair looked startled.

شطرنج "

The man nodded, but was still off balance. Clearly, he didn't expect to be made.

But within minutes the game overwhelmed everything else, over and over again the set up the pieces, moving with lightning speed. Fingers wrapping, hands grabbing. Then after almost half an hour, Apostle had ground down his opponent with defeat after defeat. After one particularly messy debacle, his opponent reached across to hit the clock, and Apostle slapped his hand down over it, and stared into the man's eyes. In Urdu.

“Take me to who you work for.”

The man looked back, a kind of pleading in his face.

“Take me to who you work for.”

The man clearly wanted to stand up, but also could not, his legs simply would not obey his mind, fear was tightening its grip around the muscles of his arms and chest. Apostle stood up and towered over him. The man slowly got off, Apostle put his arm around the man's shoulder, and cleared up the chess accoutrements, and they began walking with him down the street.

Over a mile away, they reached a heavy metal door with a small sliding porthole in it. The man knocked, and immediately it slid open. Some words in Urdu were quickly exchanged. 

The door opened inward. They walked through into a cool dark space, with a slight movement to the air. There were two men leaning against a wall, AK-47's over their shoulders. They were so thin that their chests seemed imploding. They were talking very quickly and smoking. Apostle could lay a small fee on what they talking about. It was not important, however.

What was important was that he was off the grid. Anything that could be said here was off the record, no mention of it would ever go on record, and less someone mentioned it. That was a very powerful thing indeed.

“Take me to you work for.” He knew that he would get a response, if it was the last thing he beat out of him. And he wasn't even touching either the face or the body. There were some things that mind made more powerful, because it imagined something more awful than anything which could be inflicted. In the minds eye, everything that could be imagined, was floridly so, but in the imagined world, not a scratch could be given, and each touch was the first that was received, over and over again. Think on that for a while, each imagined punch will have the same impact.

And it was working. Each question made his face more pliant than the last. He was not doing anything, it was only the mind, and what a powerful thing mind was. And at last the inmate, for such he had become, finally stammered out what he wanted to hear. But it was not what the apostle wanted to hear, not where the was, or an exact, or even inexact, location. It was a sound like the spitting on a brick, and it meant that was not going to get what he wanted.

Instead he stared off into the hazy distance, and realized that capturing the world renowned figure was not the point, even if he wanted it to be the point. Osama bin Laden was not point, to the friends, or foe, or anything in between, the was an illusion, a figment, a morbius, a enigma. The real enemy was not a dictator. It was even Bashar al-Assad that was the only target, though he would be harder to take out.

It was only us. It was only us. People didn't really want to know how much we had spent on this, and they were not going to look closely. After all, Bashar would be removed from the stage, eventually, and their would be a new dictator, though that might take some time. After all Libya would receive a new dictator, when there had been a reordering.

So Apostle could one anyone of a dozen hours to lay at his feet, and be cremated, and nothing would change but a few lines on the map. He didn't even push down, but walked away from the man who was not a friend, nor a foe, nor a complex amalgam of the two. Simply put, they had nothing in common for the moment, and maybe for many moments yet to come. The man was slumped over, but not badly so, much of his position was in fact a pantomime, not really an act, per se. He unhand the man, and went away, as if nothing really had happened. Things like this happen all the time, and nobody thinks anything of it. Is different in the West, where meaning has some innumerate value, which though it may not be quantified, it can be if you try. Here in what is called the Middle East, some things just happen, and that's all there is to it.

“So that's all there is?”

“That is all we need to speak of. We can exchange some good banter if you'd like.”
From stiffness across the table, there didn't seem to be much point. So Gabe finished his cigarette, nasty habit which was trying to be snuffed out by the authorities, if they could do so.

The Gabe left after a few minutes, a very long few minutes. There was nothing that they could hold on, so 48 hours later, the Apostle left.

He sorted through all things, notice that a few of them were missing. Though could not expect that anything out of the ordinary would be done about them.

Though the made appropriate motions, he knew the nothing would be done about it, though nobody in anything about question. He sighed, and got on his things, because he did in fact have some things to be done. And they were difficult things indeed. It's not that they were unimportant, but time was not part of the equation. But caution was part of the equation. And the cautions as well as optimistic. There were two things that he had to do. One of course was to talk to Dig again. The other one was to find find the old man, though he didn't know whether it was as a friend, or foe.

“Do you know what you're going to do?” Miss Bright ask in a tone of voice which was not neutral, but did not tell what it was. Friend, foe, both?

“No. Do you?”

“I have been doing what I'm told, for quite some time.”

“Hence the feeling of a dual nature.”

“That is always the way it is. Call me strange in that way.”

“Always?”

“We women like that, always.”

“We men are not like that, at least most of the time.”

“I know, that's why your so predictable.”

“Do you plan it that way?”

“Nature has it planned, and individuals just take their cues from it.”

“So it's probably and a eggs thing.” that was not a question, but a confirmation.

“Do you realize this is long searching discussion that we have had in quite some time?”

“I hadn't noticed.”

“Of course you didn't, its girls that notice that it's a long conversation. Boys think that there are other things to not talk about. While girls know that they are not talking about, and it drives them wild, simply crazy.”

“So should we have more of these not conversations, just to keep in practice?”

“It doesn't matter, reflexes will take over if allowed. We will have more not conversations than any woman would want anyway.”

“So what do we need? Or do I want one to know?”

“If I tell you, it be a surprise.”

“And you can that, could you.”

“No, that would mean I was pleading for some time to my self. To unwind for a bit, 
because you had been tiring.”

“In other words it's a strain to deal with men if you're a woman.”

“But it is the only game until you have babies.”

“And then it's all right, because you have babies?”

“Only dull women will completely give up on men, you if they like babies more. Which, I will add, is not the majority position. Though will a time most of the will give babies the nod.”

“Why is that?”

“Because it takes a long time for babies to win. Mostly they just giggle, and gurgle, and looks sweet. Which is nice for a time.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Isn't it obvious?”

“No, I am dense.”

“I think you consider changing careers.”

“And get with the program?”

“Something like that, is I believe the expression you would use.”

“You mean thinking about babies, that's very forward.”

“Men have two be led to the precipice, and look over the edge. That's the only way.”

“To, what, exactly.”

“You have a great time to think about that sort of thing.”

It was at that moment that you realize he was being asked to probe position. In he could either except, or shut up. There was a third option, but not from someone who grasp enough the game that women played with men. Of course there were inns and outs to be explained, of course, but those are for legal minds to sort out. Or at least they can seem like legal to someone who wants Qur'an as his legal text.

But he had already shifted his attention to other things, because he wanted to find what could be said as “the old man”.

To what do they owe this dubious pleasure? Neither Apostle nor Miss Bright would ever willingly consign an hour of their time to the dubious pleasures of his good graces. And it was not for the information about Osama bin Laden, who they had realized was of know value them, though some agent or other, some informatics handler or other, call him what you would, or her, she or he would get a notch for being the one who would take down the great almighty vizier, now that it did not matter in the least.

It would also not matter to get someone's hide flagged In chasing after Pres. Assad, who would person's scrag anyone who dared to do so. There are some targets which only a madman would go for, not that a madman couldn't do it, but it would also mean, in all probability, the madman's life. And normally professional people don't like those odds. But recruiting a madman to do the deed for you is a tricky piece of business, there is so much wrong, and so little right, that could happen. Think about the timeline of the Syrian civil war, and remember that this is only a piece of the puzzle. There is the Arab Spring, in all its glory, in Libya, Egypt, the place called Iraq, and every spot in between to think about. And that's just the living part of a subterranean struggle which comprises the US, Russia, and all of the states that want a piece of it, plus China for staying away from anything except profitable rebuilding.

But the old men would know that this would not entice them in the least, he had a good eye for these sorts of things. He would not even proud them, there was too little time left in his life for such things. Too little time left, to prod and pull, there were younger men suited too jostling and pulling, and wasting someone's precious time. Which was why he did so, he wanted to know what he could offer them, and what he could entice them with. It was only the unexpected that peaked his interest.

If it was Osama bin Laden, or president Assad, or any of the other little problems which he could deal with, it had to be something either trivial or vast. And it was trivial, he could dismiss it, and go about his merry way.

The room to spare, and decorated with An assortment of either Syrian or Turkish wares, there were few enough of these in any event, he was not very rich, or at least not in this terms. It was over 15 years since he had any reason to want anything, so he gave away almost everything that he had. And then some.


So the old man looked at the two of his visitors, and waited for them to say something, because they interested him, very much so. And there was so little to interest him at all, he had few friends, or few acquaintances, few of any one who really mattered. But what he did have was a prospective, one of the few people shared. He knew that everyone knew everything, if they had bothered to think about it, and fill in the connections with words that did not mean anything, and did not need to mean anything, because they were fill in the blanks. Then you or anyone, could get to the real meat of what you wanted to say. All the rest was noise in the present context, though of course it had meaning in some other context. There were only a few problems which could not be solved in seven steps, and really six with a very small number of exceptions. The problem this, most people could only think of three or so steps, and only limited number of those. Mostly, people fudged and made up a few steps, thinking them selves smart, when in reality, they were down and just used some simple clues. With those clues in place they thought they were smart, very smart indeed. But as is said, they were just closer to the truth.

So the old man looked at his two visitors, trying to guess what it is they want, even before they knew what they wanted. Think of it as Gossfield Park, it isn't how many steps away from the truth they are, its how many that they combine the steps in a pattern. One person could be right on top of the problem, and never know it, because they only see two or three steps, as opposed to 10. in reality having for steps is progress, and have five scenes amazing, and having six looks like magic. Even though five steps is not noticeably smarter than average. In fact, having three steps run tremendously fast looks like genius until you actually think of how it's done. Think about the difference between old chess, and new. What's really involved is how the patterns work out, with old chess creeping along, where as new chess on astonishes because the moves go somewhere quickly rather than slowly.

Then he knew what they wanted, even before they did, he was old and new that, where as most people are young, at least they thought they were, and they were not going to feel differently about it. That's why young people play chess, and old people remember the moves that they made once upon a time, and play out the moves by wrote. It is only the very smart people who know that they really are old, most people think they are young. Which is not the case, in fact by 30 day are already getting old. They are just aren't many moves left.

But not many people know this, even though the facts are there to be seen. That's why they prefer to play checkers, because there are fewer moves to be seen. Which is why Old Man beats old men who don't know the real rules of the game.

He, that is the old man, had not spoken yet, nor was he going to do so.

It was their turn, and they were going to have make them, that was the first test.
Finally, Apostle realized this. Already several seconds had already passed him by, he did not realize that it was a game. But he was learning.

“The here that you know something about the next move we should be making.”

“Yes, that is true. What do you want to know.”

“Honestly, I don't know, so that is precisely what I want to know: what should I be playing for.”

“Why not Osama bin Laden, that is what most people are playing for”

“That doesn't interest me, it did a few days ago. But I at least see that the head start belongs to other people, and I will not catch up to them.”

“And you don't think that you'll catch up by playing and with me?”

“No, I don't think I will. What's more, you don't think I will either, so it would be foolish to even try. That is, if you think I am not a fool, which I don't think you do.”

“ I am trying to please, and if you want to catch up, you can do so, if you want.”
There was an air of passing neglect on apostles face, he would not want to have anything to do with Osama bin Laden, because it would be a Knight, while the the King was still on the board, and he desperately wanted to know where.

“I don't think that that would be a reasonable goal, do you?”

“That would be up to you. I am only here to play for what you want. If you want to play for what is on the board, who am I to say different?”

“I somehow doubt that you that indifferent to the stakes of our game.” apostle sensed something, but he did not know what it was. He checked with Miss Bright, who was looking at the old man, and pondering what he knew, like him, she thought he was hiding something, but she didn't know either what it was, but unlike Apostle, she had a clue.

“If you were in our position, what would you like to play for, knowing what you know?”
Then with a blazingly fast speed, he took the rook, and with a little gesture of his mouth, he opened it and said.

“That his a very interesting question, most people would blunder along, to try and get a what they could see in their grasp. Maybe they would think that they had a a chance for something that would be of use to them in getting some promotion, perhaps Osama, perhaps even Assad, or some minions of his. Why don't you take one of these?”

It was tempting, but it was obviously, to both apostle and Miss bright, obviously a trap. They had to ignore it, even though it was in plain sight, and tempting them.

“Tell me, do you want that piece to tempt me? It's just staring at me, and I know it's not for me to take, even though I want to take it.”

“Why don't you just take it then?”

“Because it would be bad, though I have not figured out exactly why.”

“Why didn't you take it and find out?”

“We don't have unlimited games to play. I know it's bad, that's enough for me.”

“So what do you you want to play for.”

Miss Bright interjected: “I thought we started with this question before, he wanted you to tell us, and we still haven't got a response. We know it's not for Osama, because he's useless. And we know it is for Assad, because we'd get torn apart.”

“So why not think of who is left?”

“We don't know who's left.”

“Then that is what we are going to play for, agreed?”

Apostle set up the pieces, and made a move, because now they knew what they were playing for, the name of ISIL, because that was not a name that they had, and could be useful, that would be for someone else to decide.

After a while the old man looked up from the board, and gave them a name that no one had uttered before. It was unknown to the West, and that is all that mattered. It didn't matter what the name was, because the old man would have a new name ready to go, when this one was gone. That is the way the game was played, a new man just the same as the old one. The old man would play for that name, just as he knew what it was. He was honest, he wasn't going to play if he did not know the name. But he would have it before anyone else did.

Then he would charge for it, infinitely greater than that. He always did, that was his secret. To charge more for a name until it was worthless.

Then other men would profit from how to get the man, even if he was not worth it, except to the very few. It was there concern if the profit was greater than the risk, not their concern if it could even be done. Because some of the time, the man who bought the name took the risk that he could do it if he tried, or with plenty more money, that other people could spend. Because after all, money was fungible, and could be gone from pockets that did not want to spend it.