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dafremen
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I saw a silver dollar lying in the grass. And it was so shiny that I almost bent to pick it up but stopped myself. See, it was menacing when it was relevant, and so I fell to the grass in greeting instead, paying the coin no more mind.
But the glint was not forgotten. Soon, our people bowed down to raise it up..and it wasn't long after they'd pulled the metal from the ground that they began fighting amongst themselves for it. Long they fought; bravely but vainly..for there are no winners in the wars waged by those obsessed with nouns..only division, depression and death. Eventually, as the crowd was thinned by their own cruelties, one upon the other..a large man, stronger than the others, finally wrested the coin from their fingers and held it aloft!
"It's MINE!" he thought..and smiled.
But then he looked around and saw his brothers' eyes gone envious and feared what they might do to him.
Pulling one of them aside, he offered a share of the silver in exchange for a pledge of protection. (Though he meant to share none at all with the other. Into his hands and out through his innards and the money would belong to the coinholder again..and with it: protection.)
And so, when a few of the others without came to take from he who had, it was right and well that they were repelled by the two who were bound to the dollar. (Justice has no sympathy for foolish pursuits, so let Queen Cash defend her disciples; to slow, if you will, the spread of her "favors.")
Repelled, they changed tacts and sought instead to approach the Lord of Lucre in humility, that each might secure a portion.
His belly grumbling, the High Priest agreed to share, setting one of his brothers to growing food and another to raising livestock. Come harvest, he kept the best for himself and the Children of the Church of Cha-ching.
It wasn't long after that the weather turned. He called upon others, skilled in their craft to build him a shelter, and for him, better than they had fashioned for themselves. For him..a palace.
When his body began to fail (for lack of activity and overindulgence) he called upon others practiced in the art of healing to find a cure for what ailed him; that the Silver Goddess might bestow immortality upon her loyal subjects.
It was with this godhood in mind that the newly minted congregation set about coaxing or forcing their brethren (and sistren) into activities which would slowly remake humanity in its own image. And so where the Priesthood went, they were transported. When they were bored, they would be entertained. What leavings they peeled and left sloughed about like snakeskins were swept to the curb and hauled away.
All the while, each that served the Goddess of Gains expected his share of her pleasantries..and the share WAS given. But into their hands and out through their innards it would go. They spent so much of their lives serving the Church of the Risen Metal each day, that they had hardly any time to grow their own food, maintain their own houses, find their own medicines..and so would trade their shares back to the High Priests (who own everything) in exchange for what they required.
Their days weren't theirs anymore; their dollars weren't either.
I watched from the grass awhile until, presently, they came up to me.
"A share of this treasure for your time and toil", they tempted.
But I use my time and choose my toil, so I refused..and they grew grim.
"Then you will starve!", they hissed, "For we own all of the fields..and the pastures our flocks roam are fenced."
"If the world wants me dead, then I'll take it in stride..otherwise I'll keep living instead."
"With this cash, you'll have more..enjoy luxuries!"
"They're quite nice, but a little bit more than I need. If I'm meant to have them, they'll be there for me."
"Then we'll hound you. We own EVERYWHERE..you won't sleep!"
They obviously weren't understanding me..so I tried a different tact.
"Listen, let's do it this way..you do something for me: Go get a sandwich and I'll tell you a story."
"What?!"
"You heard me right..go get something for me to eat, and I'll tell you a story."
"What are you..nuts?! A story? A sandwich for a story? Why would I give you a sandwich for a story?! I can't feed or keep my kids out of the rain with a story! And a story certainly won't fit in my gas tank and make my car go. Ha! A story...yea right.."
"Hey...that money you're offering won't do any of those things either, but you expect your needs filled in return for it! Besides, I'm only asking for a sandwich..you can always get another. In return I'm offering you laughter, intrigue and mystery, to name a few. You, on the other hand, want the unique and irreplaceable moments of my life. Your offer? A cold shiny piece of metal good for about 5 minutes of looking MAX! Come to think of it, how about instead of telling you a story, I just hang out with you until I'm done eating the sandwich and we call it even? Surely the company of another human being, in this cold and isolated suarez we've been putting together, has more value than a piece of metal! Human life.. precious.. priceless.. remember? That's what you told us every time you passed another restriction on our activities in the name of 'keeping us safe.' 'How can we put a price on a human life?' Those were your exact words I believe. Don't tell me you're having a change of heart now that one of these precious human lives requires a sandwich?!?!"
They didn't like that very much. After they huffed and puffed and left...I laughed and laughed and laughed.
Because that's what you do when you're born to live and die in a madhouse among madmen..you try to fit in.
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