Thursday, 30 October 2014

Monstaville Book II. Chapter 36

We all have our problems 
Some BIG, some are small
Soon all of our problems
Will be taken by the cross

Black day, stormy night
No love, no hope in sight
Don't cry 4 he is coming
Don't die without knowing the cross

Ghettos 2 the left of us
Flowers 2 the right
There'll be bread 4 all, y'all
If we can just, just bear the cross, yeah

(Excerpt from ‘The Cross,’ my favourite song by Prince, from the album ‘Sign 'O' The Times,’ 1987).

I will endure the suffering patiently and, by not accepting your aggression/nastiness by reacting, I receive only a fraction of the negative energy you are creating in - and for - yourself.

Be one with the dust of the way,
Then you can't be controlled by love or by rejection.
You can't be controlled by profit or by loss.
You can't be controlled by praise or by humiliation.
- Laozi.

“If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.” - Zora Neale Hurston.

“He jerked himself violently to his feet.
                Ford looked up from where he was sitting in a corner humming to himself. He always found the actual travelling-through-space part of space travel rather tiring.
                ‘Yeah?’ he said.
                ‘If you’re a researcher on this book and you were on Earth, you must have been gathering material on it.’
                ‘Well, I was able to extend the original story a bit, yes.’
                ‘Let me see what it says in this edition then, I’ve got to see it.’
                ‘Yeah OK.’ He passed it over again.
                Arthur grabbed hold of it and tried to stop his hands shaking.
                He pressed the entry for the relevant page. The screen flashed and swirled and resolved into a page of print. Arthur stared at it.
                ‘It doesn’t have an entry!’ he burst out.
                Ford looked over his shoulder.
                ‘Yes it does,’ he said, ‘down there, see, at the bottom of the screen, just under Eccentrica Gallumbits, the triple-breasted whore of Eroticon 6.’
                Arthur followed Ford’s finger, and saw where it was pointing. For a moment it still didn’t register, then his mind nearly blew up.
                ‘What? Harmless? Is that all it’s got to say? Harmless! One word!’
                Ford shrugged.
                ‘Well, there are a hundred billion stars in the Galaxy, and only a limited amount of space in the book’s microprocessors,’ he said, ‘and no one knew much about the Earth of course.’
                ‘Well for God’s sake I hope you managed to rectify that a bit.’
                ‘Oh yes, well I managed to transmit a new entry off to the editor. He had to trim it a bit, but it’s still an improvement.’
                ‘And what does it say now? Asked Arthur.
                Mostly harmless,’ admitted Ford with a slightly embarrassed cough.
                Mostly harmless!’ shouted Arthur.
                ‘What was that noise?’ hissed Ford.
                ‘It was me shouting, shouted Arthur.
                ‘No! Shut up!’ said Ford. ‘I think we’re in trouble.’
                ‘You think we’re in trouble!’
                Outside the door were the clear sounds of marching footsteps.
                ‘The Dentrassi?’ whispered Arthur.
                ‘No, those are steel tipped boots,’ said Ford.
                There was a sharp ringing rap on the door.
                ‘Then who is it?’ said Arthur.
                ‘Well,’ said Ford, ‘if we’re lucky it’s just the Vogons come to throw us into space.’
                ‘And if we’re unlucky?’
                ‘If we’re unlucky,’ said Ford grimly, ‘the captain might be serious in his threat that he’s going to read us some of his poetry first…’”
- Douglas Adams (The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. A Trilogy in Four Parts, William Heinemann Ltd, London, U.K., 1979, p.53-54).

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