That Certain Step

That Certain Step is never taken without a particular taste of madness.

I once heard a story: There was a man who had been discoursing with a group of listeners about a thing he called, “The Mighty Battle,” and one day he called them all together and said, “I need to confess.  All this time, I have lied to you.  I simply read about The Mighty Battle in a book.  I don't have any more idea what it is about than you do.  I've made up everything I've told you.  I'm a liar and a fraud.  Everything I've done has been a waste.”  Well, there was crying and screaming; people looking blank and confused.  It was total shock and dismay as they all stumbled and ran away; all except for one man who just continued to sit there.  The sham-teacher screamed at him, “Didn't you hear me?  Didn't you hear what I said?  Run, get away from here!”  And the fellow said, “Never mind all that shit; it's too late. I almost understand it all.”

A wandering swami once came by and proclaimed that the secret of Enlightenment was to stand on one leg forever and ever, and a group of listeners decided he was crazy, and they were right.

Another swami came by and announced that one could gain Enlightenment by eating only camel burgers.  The same group of listeners said he was deluded, and they were right. 

A third swami came to visit and taught that Enlightenment would result if only men would rhythmically beat on their temples with large pieces of broken pottery.  The group of listeners went off and discussed the matter, and decided that the law of averages was bound to catch up with them, and began breaking up plates and pitchers to get on with the job at hand. 

All hail and greeting great men of earth. Is it not pleasant to learn that all ideas of change are far, far away, while the possibility of nothing is always right at hand.

J.