Early mid-morning. You woke up during the
night thinking about prophecy and Ezekiel and it suddenly dawned on you - God's
Promise to Abraham and Sarah as well as Ezekiel seeing the wheel. Biblical
lines is what your were forgetting and this is almost beyond belief because
God's Promise to Abraham was central to the meaning of the Merlyn trilogy. -
Amorella
Yes, Amorella, that is what is missing. I am
relieved to discover it was not about me thinking I was a prophet of old. 179
Braided Dreams, page 179 [Pouch Text: Chapter 11] on documents:
**
**
That afternoon Jabal answered the phone, “The French just
discovered an ossuai at a Qumran
burial site -- the headless remains in the stone coffin -- the speculation is
that the remains are those of John the Baptist.”
“Ridiculous,”
replied Jabal, “the press will have a field day. Every headless skeleton found
near this city is the remains of John the Baptist. What’s the matter with
people?” The old rabbi grew silent. In the old days, religion questioned
science, now the media plays the sorcerer’s apprentice and conjures a piece of
non-news as the entertainment benchmark of the day. Few people care about
empirical data unless it is a matter of personal health. He shook his head in
disgust. Shark infested news feeders circling the same old material,
regurgitating it in the appropriate season. Personal and private humanity
swallowed for dollars. If people really want to be curious why don’t they look
in the mirror and see a miserable truth staring back at them. There are all
kinds of slavery in the world, and the billions of slaves in the mirror don’t
see the chains they’ve tied themselves down with.
Rabbi
Hevron sat his old body in the old chair in the office. He stared upward at the
south corner. ‘Where did God go?’ he thought. ‘The world today is like God was
never here.’
I miss my Sarah as old Abraham must have missed his. I never found
a Rebecca to take her place. We never had children, it was I who was at fault
this time not Jessie, I mean, Sarah. God made a promise to Abraham and
ultimately to Sarah too. God made a
Convenient with Abraham and Sarah that millions would be born, millions as in
the stars in the heavens and the grains of sand on the beaches. He promised a
good life one day when there were millions of us in the world. He promised
everyone a good life once there were enough of us in the world. Humanity has
certainly spread their seeds and eggs. The world is quite full of us, probably
too much so. Where is the promise kept? I am old, why not now. Then, the Lord
works in mysterious ways. People of the book all say that. We all can trace
ourselves back to Abraham who was willing to sacrifice his only son because he
thought God wished it so. An angel told him to stop before the sacrifice, then
a promise afterwards.
We
are all old, dear God. I am not alone. For the love of humanity, do us a favor
for once. What do you want from us? From all of us? How can we all learn to
sleep together under this same tent. Our world is as a desert. We are bones
alone. Millions slaughtered in the last great world war. He rethought that
statement. Millions slaughtered around the world, not just us Jews. They should
be remembered. The good, the bad. It makes no difference. Death comes to us
all. We seemed to have forgotten the promise to Abraham and Sarah was not to us
alone, but to all the nations of the world.
I
was afraid to translate first because I was afraid I would offend my Christian
friend, Karl. The Hebrew and the Greek together at that place. It may be a lock
of Jesus’ hair in that marble casing. Jewish hair. I am afraid for the world
with such a find. I do not see how a good can come of this if it is a fraud or
no fraud.
If
it is the hair of Jesus, or any Jewish man of the times, we should share it by
thirds. Before any questions are raised. It would be the wisest course. The
state of Israel keeps the marble vase and a third of the hair as an
archeological find, the Christians in Rome get a third to disperse as they
wish, and the Moslems get a third as Jesus is accepted as a prophet. We would
have no choice in the matter. Then what? Pray tell, then what? And the
manuscript, who gets that?
By
rights, it is ours as is the vase. We can’t tear the manuscript into thirds; or
the vase either. What a perplexing problem my old imagination raises. We should
bury it in a vault for later generations, scholars only. I don’t know. Perhaps
this is nothing but senility creeping in. I’ll take the senility. My heart says
to let it all go. Give it away. But, who to give it to? I should hope it is
nothing at all. It is probably only our imagination.
From Braided Dreams
**
**
The
Promise was to everyone, that was the key, and I was forcing it to happen in
fiction as I feel it may never happen in real life. That is the reason for the
marsupials, not to show humans the way, but a way to live better if we just
give up pride and greed. That was the idea. Wishful thinking, but then I'm a
romantic. It would be difficult for me to leave this aspect of the books out,
to delete it completely, and certainly it needs to be established somewhere in
the first three chapters.
We can work on it boy, you had to rediscover
this yourself. Post. - Amorella
**
**
“What about today? If it’s not
a plague it is a nuclear accident in my book.”
“Just like in the Cold War
times. That would be ironic. The Soviets are gone and we still end up in a
nuclear battle,” replied Richard as he watched people get on and off the
elevator. “We and the Russians still have hundreds of missiles. 20/20 said it
would only take twenty missiles to kill eight billion people. I think that was
right.”
“And we don’t even have eight
billion yet,” commented Robert. “That’s what’s really depressing. Is 20/20 on
NBC or CBS?”
“Elizabeth Vargas was the
narrator, so it has to be ABC.”
“That’s true. And you said
Global Warming was number one, that it would do us in. That’s a real surprise
to me.”
“Me too in a way. I would put
a plague or accidental nuclear war before Global Warming no matter what Al Gore
says,” responded Richard. “I have to say though that Grandma in my stories
would probably agree that it is number one because she says it is a necessity
that we change. We have no choice. We will run out of oil or the oceans will
eventually rise twenty to forty feet and the coasts of the world will not be
the same and we won’t either. The other day I was thinking about the ducks down
on the Creek. With Global Warming, they won’t have to migrate. What are they
going to do?”
“Maybe it will help prevent a
future bird flu epidemic,” said Robert on a sincerely positive note. He added, “Grandma
is you, you know.”
“I know,” said Richard. “On
some level I must agree with her, that Global Warming will force us to change
our ways, but outwardly nuclear war or a plague would do it much more quickly.”
“Is there anything positive in
your book? On some level, like you say, you must be positive enough to sit down
and write the book in the first place. I mean, if there were no hope, in one of
your many levels, then why write anything?”
“Not really. I satirize how
human beings don’t have the guts to live as humane as the marsupials, which I
think is funny since I made them aliens. That’s the funniest part.”
“So you made the aliens better
than us?”
“That comes out later in book
two which I know you won’t read for a while if ever. It only comes out in the
marsupials though.” Richard paused, “We are just as good as they are, but they
have several thousand years head start.”
Robert thought on how to get
him angry then asked, “I don’t see how that is much realistic hope. Besides,
everybody already knows all the other scenarios.”
Richard sat mulling over his
brother’s words. “You piss me off,” he mumbled. “The alien’s are human beings
in a possible future. That is the idea.”
“Where’s the realistic hope,
Richie? From aliens, that’s been done before too.”
Richard took another sip of his
seven and seven then folded his hands on the bar. “There isn’t any real hope.
Writing gives me something to do, Rob. Satire doesn’t provide hope it provide
humor to get through a hopeless situation.”
“Utterly depressing, Richie.”
“I know.”
“This is just like when you
were a kid and spent your time making up stories.”
“Fuck you,” muttered Richard
and grumbled under his breath, “You are really beginning to piss me off.” He
downed the rest of his drink and declared, “I’m going up and take a nap. Let me
know when the girls come back or what we’re up to if they call.”
“Yep,” said Robert. “I’m going
to go play some Black Jack.”
“Tell him you were a surgeon,”
lambasted Richard as he left, “maybe he’ll let you cut the deck.”
A few minutes of quiet did Richard
in and he grumbled, “Well, shit! Damn it to hell anyway.” God’s promise to
Sarah and Abraham is the only hope I can come up with.
Meanwhile, Rob is downstairs
on the main floor enjoying a visit from Lady Luck who had him up about
seventy-five dollars.
On the hotel wireless
Internet, Richard found the Hebrew Bible
in English, a translation of the Jewish Publication Society, 1917 edition. Genesis, Chapter 22: 15 which says, “And
the angel of the LORD called unto Abraham a second time out of heaven, 16 and
said: 'By Myself have I sworn, saith the LORD, because thou hast done this
thing, and hast not withheld thy son, thine only son, 17 that in blessing I
will bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of
the heaven, and as the sand which is upon the seashore; and thy seed shall
possess the gate of his enemies; 18 and in thy seed shall all the nations of
the earth be blessed; because thou hast hearkened to My voice.'”
Here
is something, thought Richard, “... . and in thy seed shall all the nations of
the earth be blessed.” This would include everyone, even Merlyn. The Blessing
weaves through our DNA. He heard the doorknob turn.
“What’s
up?” said Robert.
“I’m
just thinking about the book.”
“And,”
said Robert, “what hope did you find?”
“I
found a reference to God’s promise to Abraham in chapter eleven.”
“I
remember. Some rabbi is talking about losing his wife.”
“I
think you’re right.” Richard finally glanced his brother’s way, “How’d you do
at the table?”
“Not
bad, I won four hundred and eight-six dollars.”
**
**
They
are at Las Vegas. I forget why exactly. The language is a bit offensive but I
was more interested in how it is. Yet, Bob and I never really spoke that way in
public or private. I guess I wanted it gritty. Who knows? I don't remember. I even quoted scripture. I forgot that.
You are picking up Brennan from a couple of
hours at daycare in about forty minutes. Carol is in working on the laundry and
you decided to sit in the car and write. You have your Jennifer cookie and you
both had combo lunches (soup and half a sandwich) at Stone Oven for the first
time this trip to Cleveland. Your thought is to place the Biblical quotation at
the front of the book and let it go at that.
Hebrew Bible in English, a translation of the Jewish Publication Society,
1917 edition. Genesis, Chapter
22: 15
which says, “And the angel of the LORD called unto Abraham a second time out of
heaven, 16 and said: 'By Myself have I sworn, saith the LORD, because thou hast
done this thing, and hast not withheld thy son, thine only son, 17 that in
blessing I will bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the
stars of the heaven, and as the sand which is upon the seashore; and thy seed
shall possess the gate of his enemies; 18 and in thy seed shall all the nations
of the earth be blessed; because thou hast hearkened to My voice.'”
And,
you have two other thoughts on the subject:
Yes,
somewhere on the same page I would place:
Ezekiel
Saw The Wheel
Ezekiel saw the wheel
Way up in the middle of
the air
Ezekiel saw the wheel
Way up in the middle of
the air
And the little wheel run
by faith
And the big wheel run by
the Grace of God
A wheel in a wheel
Way up in the middle of
the air
Then
I would add this:
Merlyn
took for himself an ancient text; then one from the twentieth century and
decided that as he was a mix of Druid and Seventh Century Christian he would
reference the New Testament in the following logic.
Jesus
was a Master Carpenter,
A
Spiritual Worker of Wood,
And,
thus Jesus was a Druid-King
Addressed
on a Four-Pointed Tree.
Something
to that effect, on one page, though I am not sure how it would look. Actually it
doesn't look as good in print as it does in my head.
1544
hours. Feeling better after a nap, Brennan is taking one now and Carol is
either reading or taking a nap. Kim should arrive home around 1730 hours and we
will be on our way. We may run into traffic on I-271 but traffic should be
uneventful in Columbus.
You are thinking of erasing the above
because you weren't really thinking, and in the process, you feel you could
have jinxed the trip. - Amorella
Alas, you show how weak-minded I am. I begin
writing without realizing what I am thinking until I see it in print. Pretty
bad.
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