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I,m back!!! I love you...., eh? - Printable Version

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I,m back!!! I love you...., eh? - Kevala - 08-19-2004

As Jim say's.... "Love me two times, baby..."

I came across a good article written by a bud of mine... Savitr Ishaya.

I think you'll enjoy it. It's a great story.

Its well worth the read 8)

"THE HOLE"

Jake stood by the hole. He no longer felt young: his arms ached, his back felt like a tangle of bad-tempered adders that had been tossed into a slow fire, and his toasted shoulders were threatening a blistery revenge by morning.

But he had done it! The Vision in his heart had told him to come to this specific part of his drought-wracked homeland - no sane person could have picked a less likely spot - to dig for water. The unmistakable pile of shells and cornhusks, dumped off after someone's backyard clambake, had matched the one in his inner memory exactly. And he had dug. And dug. And dug some more.

For hours, for days he had dug, propelled beyond the possibility of failure by the assurance that his heart did not lie. For hours and days he had endured the mockery of passersby, laughing through parched lips at this fool digging in the garbage dump of their capital city: Imagine expecting to find water in a refuse heap!

But his Vision hadn't told him he would find water in the garbage midden: it had said he would find water below it. And so he had dug, with infinite patience and one-pointedness, through layer after layer, stratum after stratum, of filth and litter and cast-off relics, giving them no more thought than he gave to the buzz of traffic in the distant city. And relatively shortly - amazingly shortly, actually - his shovel had struck first muck, then ooze, then clear cool water flowing abundantly from a subterranean spring. After a heartfelt prayer of joy and thanks, Jake built himself a modest little shanty next to his hole, then settled down to enjoy the fruits of his labor.

Soon Jake's "yard" was crowded with people who had come to drink from his hole. This was fine at first, for he was a generous person and saw no reason not to share his bounty. But then the quibbling started: those closest to the hole would refuse to give up their places, even when they were sated, as though proximity to the hole itself gave them some sort of divinely-appointed status; others were debating about whose drink had been the most pure, or who had drunk the most, or who was the most satisfied; one committee of oddly-robed men even approached Jake with a proposal to put a thick wall around themselves and the hole, with openings through which they could pass measured amounts of water to 'the deserving.'
The muck fights were the last straw. Jake had placed no restrictions on who could come to share his water; but as their issues escalated beyond self-control, they began scooping up huge handfuls of compost - the half-decayed excrement of their ancestors - and throwing it at each other. Even Jake wasn't immune to these malodorous missiles; but worse, hundreds of poorly aimed muckballs were finding their way into the hole and beginning to fill it up again.

Jake realized it was time for the next step: "Look, you folks seem to have forgotten why you're here, and you're screwing up a good thing for everybody. I dug this hole because my heart told me there was water here, and I also know there's plenty more to be found. So it's time for you all to stop wasting your time, and dig your own holes; maybe you'll learn to value the water as I do, as a result of your commitment."

"But Jake," they said, we've never dug a hole; we wouldn't even know how to begin!"

"It's easy," he replied: "I'll teach you."

Soon the refuse site was a hive of activity as the more adventuresome set to their projects; the less bold had simply taken what water they could and gone home, grumbling among themselves about "tainted water" and "control issues" and "cultic elitism."

The excavations began with a great deal of enthusiasm. The digging wasn't difficult, and Jake made sure that each seeker had the full benefit of his experience. It wasn't long, however, before early signs of discouragement began to set in:

"Jake, your hole is so splendid and your water so clear! And mine is so pitiful; it will never be like yours." --"Just keep digging. This is only your, what, sixth shovelful?"

"This is so frustrating, Jake! I just keep hitting garbage. Didn't you have some special way of pushing through all this?" --"No, I just dug. The three feet of garbage you've already excavated is hardly a major obstacle, but it's three feet you won't have to dig again."

"Jake, that person over there is digging through clamshells, just like in your Vision. I don't seem to be getting anything but cucumber peelings and old comic books." --"Those are first editions of Superman and Batman. Don't compare; just focus on your own goal. Um, can I borrow one of those?"

"Jake! Over here! Look at these biscuit-things I found: are they important?" --"According to this brochure that was under them, they're sample tidbits left over from a 'Flour of Life' Workshop. My recollection is that they're very tasty, but most people waste a lot of time trying to figure out how to digest them. I recommend you just keep digging."advised Jake.

"Jake, I bought every book I could find on digging holes, and I now consider myself an expert on all twenty-seven methods. I really can't say that your system has yielded any better results than the others." --"You've also dug 27 holes, one foot deep. May I suggest that if you had dug one hole, twenty-seven feet deep, you'd be a lot closer to your goal?"

And so it went. To Jake's practiced eye, he could see that everyone was making excellent progress, and that the abundant source of water was there for all of them. But one by one they became discouraged and began to fall away. Many became frustrated at the amount of garbage they were having to dig through, as though the parched, rocky soil outside the dump would somehow be preferable. Some began to doubt that the water would be there for them no matter how deep they dug ("Oh, I just know I'll never get there; I'll be the last one, and I'll still never get there").

One excavator-turned-entrepreneur proved to be a major distraction for several others, by urging them to leave off digging and purchase solar stills that he had made:

Another group found a cache of jewels, evidently hidden in a dumpster by some thieves who didn't make it back to their stash before the garbage truck arrived. The new recipients were so excited by their find that they forgot all about Jake, their hole, and the water, and ran off to find a new hiding place for their treasure. According to reports that filtered back, they all died of thirst shortly thereafter.

In checking the records, there is some confusion as to how this story ends. According to one account, the Waterworks Department - still a major bureaucracy in spite of not having provided anything liquid to anyone in several decades-showed up in force on the third day and declared the entire excavation a hazardous waste site. Several mid-management types reportedly accosted Jake as the Chief Offender and strung him up on the crossbars of a broken and discarded goalpost, to the cheers of a hastily gathered crowd. The crowd reportedly contained an unusual number of drunk ex-excavators complaining noisily about the nonexistent blisters on their hands.

Another account states just as certainly that Jake's crew simply kept digging, until the infilling water dissolved the walls of each individual tunnel and there was only one large crystalline pool, with a fountain of pure liquid beauty at its center. Oddly, the omnipresent garbage is reputed to have disappeared entirely, or to have transformed into the verdant foliage and animal life that (reportedly) appeared overnight. Jake and his fellow 'garbage-divers,' as they were mockingly called, were last seen sporting joyously in the abounding (one could almost say - infinite?) waters: in the next instant, nobody was there at all.

A third account simply records the two previous stories, and cryptically states there is no difference. Well, Well, dear reader, is that too deep? Or do you dig?

- lord brazle - 08-19-2004

Violins and tambourines and this is wha-- sorry... did you say something?

- Kevala - 08-25-2004

When the mystic varies thus, you can send them in to.....

You may just get buried alive my friend. Then you'll HAVE to dig......
Dig it?

Are you payin' attention yet. Have you found what is below,under and IS you? We are kind of dumb, eh?

What happened to Lord Brazle - Kevala - 03-11-2005

What happened to lord brazzle? Here is a classic thread from my buddy!

- LastStop - 03-11-2005

How is this moron not banned yet?

Re: What happened to Lord Brazle - jen - 03-11-2005

Kevala Wrote:What happened to lord brazzle? Here is a classic thread from my buddy!

Listen, there is NO reason to resurrect these threads. You are obviously here to be a troll. Really, noone cares about your 'enlightening' sermons. Go do something productive with yourself.

Thread locked, that way you can't resurrect it again after another year long absence. :?