Paging Rrophets

Paging Rrophets

      by Dougie Dorkheimer the Third

The day is coming to an end. Prepare the way of the Lord. I am not good enough to stoop down and tie the laces of His shoes. I eat wild locusts (There are no other kind, I believe. No one would raise them. No one would attempt to domesticate locusts, would they? For what? Eating? Not enough prophets around. To help out Pharaohs  pissed at slave nations? Nonsense. Now, honey is another matter. Lots of people to help slurp that up.) and wild honey. It's not easy to get. A variety of cultures employ a variety of methods, but in the desert around here the Ibnites tend to smoke out the nests and climb high rope ladders to where they are located. That is how the Dead Sea scrolls were found, in fact. Honey gathering. 

        I have not the advantage of a community so I go it alone. I just distract the bees by spreading a little honey from my private supply on my naked body (carefully avoiding certain parts). I run past the hive a few times till I have most of the bees following me. I let them get close and land and then roll in the sand and kill them all. Walla, no bees! There is an art to this, I know. You learn by trial and error. Locust for protein, honey for sweetness and energy. Today your account will be required of you. Today we live, tomorrow we die. I will cut this baby in two and you each get half. If you study and get your Ph.D you have something at least. Better a plumber with a Ph.D than a plumber without one. There once was a kind father with two children, Hansel and Gretel. God helps those who help themselves. Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's and unto God what is God's. A life is empty of meaning. There is no exit for humans because we are the only moral entities in the universe; nothing else is or is required to be moral. Only man is so saddled and he has no escape because he knows too little. He knows nothing of the future. He is more moral than God. Man is the idiot who thinks he can know. Man will no longer be man by the year 2050. "Mankind" will be over by then. What we need is a man who longs not to be a man. We need someone who is not interested in replacing God once God has--as He has--abdicated. We need someone who is interested in the history of meaning because no other available body of knowledge exists for him to entertain himself with. We need someone who is happy and joyful, and in the thought of his own loss finds most joy. Yes, we need that person and that person is coming. I am not worthy to untie his shoelaces. That person is on his way here because I can hear the thunder of his steps. He neither creeps nor slinks. He is a stranger to careful thoughts. He does not at all revere the secret way nor practice the neat and restrained. He is a singer of sad tunes that make him happy and happifies others, too. He sings, plays an instrument, walks far, likes the thought of lying on grass and looking up at the sky, of lying on grass and looking down at the dirt. He loves dirt, air, water and sun. He is a force to be reckoned with. He has no love of the past for the future has occurred to him. The future irradiates him with its goodness and with its wealth of places to swim. The future is honey on him.