The Gods of the Uranium Hills

“What did you do with 320 million Americans?” – demanded Sgt. Rock.

“I moved them to another place” – King Uno in quiet reply.

Rock had been a brave soldier, doing whatever his country had asked of him for 15 years. He’d been in every God-forsaken corner of this globe, often doing things he wasn’t proud of but always, always doing them unquestioningly and with courage. He had never been afraid, but he was afraid now. Afraid to ask the question which must follow:

“What … other place?

“A place far from earth. A place you’ll never be able to reach. A place from which none will ever be able to escape” – King Uno.

Rock and Uno were the only men in the darkened Tea House in the middle of a blazing hot North African day. Uno had been at a table lazily sipping his drink when Rock had burst through the door to ask his questions. After Uno’s bit about never being able to escape, Rock removed his beret and approached Uno slowly, trying to order his thoughts:

What to say next? The whole world knows what I and my squad just found out: the entire country known as the United States of America – all 50 states – had been depopulated at midnight. Exactly at midnight. No – more – people. The animals were alright, plant life remained unharmed, even the buildings were intact. Just utterly empty of all human life – citizens and non-citizens alike. All…gone. Without a trace.

Rock stood next to the seated Uno – waiting for a signal. The king gestured that he should sit next to him, share his table, share his tea. The Sergeant managed his next question:

“What happens next?”

Uno cleared his throat, and proceeded: “Think of it this way: The whole world knows there is now a vast treasure sitting on an unoccupied and totally defenseless land.”

“Wait, what do you mean defenseless? What about all of our nuclear weapons that aren’t in the US – the ones in outer space, in submarines, in the air 24/7?”

“Oh…I moved those to another place also, though not the same place I moved your people. These weapons are no longer a factor. Shall I continue?”

Crestfallen, Rock nods.

“For the near future, no one will dare enter the territory of the United States. Any would-be foreign trespassers might think, If I cross those borders, whatever happened to the disappeared Americans might happen to me. But…sooner or later, they won’t be able to resist. At first, they might send an expedition of Death Row prisoners as a test. If you offer a man his freedom, he’ll take considerable risks.”

“What will happen to anyone who enters? – Rock.

“Nothing. And sooner or later that land and its treasures will be seized and occupied by a number of foreign powers. And whosoever dwells in that land will prosper – or not – depending on their behavior.”

King Uno rises and walks toward the door, into the brilliant sunshine – Rock following silently behind. The rest of Rock’s squad sits 50 yards distance, under the bare shade of a few scraggly trees – just watching Rock and Uno.

“Who are you? What are you?” – Rock tugs Uno’s thin, patched cloak.

“Do you want a theological explanation or a demonstration of power?” – Uno offers.

At a loss for words, Rock stares blankly at Uno, who says, “You’re a military man, so I’ll give you a demonstration of power now. But later, I won’t spare you my theology. In that regard, I can be quite merciless. Now, Behold!”

As soon as Uno utters “Behold,” Rock sees Uno levitate into the sky and enlarge his body, filling the entire sky. Then he disappears from view and, in each of his ears, Sgt. Rock hears a tiny, harrumphing sound – like a voice clearing before speaking. Looking crazily from left to right to left again, Rock sees, hovering just above each of his shoulders, a four-inch King Uno. They disappear, to be replaced by the King standing in his original position in front of Rock.

The King instructs Rock to count slowly to five and then to turn around.

“One…two…”

Uno disappears. Rock continues counting, “three…four…five.” Then he turns…

He sees well over 100 life-sized King Unos waving at him, by the trees next to his astonished troops. Then all of the Unos disappear, leaving the foreigners to sort things out. After comparing notes – “Did you see what I saw?” – the troops asked their leader what King Uno had told him in the Tea House. And what was said face-to-face out of earshot.

* * * * * * * * * *

“What are we going to do now?” – Corporal Youngston asked of everybody in general but to nobody in particular. It didn’t make much sense to ask any questions of the man in charge, since the whole idea of “in charge” was suddenly irrelevant.

Rock said, “Let’s wait for sundown and walk to the Uranium Hills and watch the show. Just like we’ve done for weeks. Somehow, I think King Uno will be there. Maybe he’ll be open to some questions.”

* * * * * * * * * * *

It’s now well past sundown and the soldiers are waiting. Some of the locals drift in, dangle their feet over the ledge, and stare out silently at the Hills in the distance – watching the show. Dancing above the Hills in different shades of blue is radioactive light – like some otherworldly Northern Lights. But it was obvious to the Westerners that this was more than just the glow from uranium ore. Though that’s what first drew them to this place.

Rock remembered his commander exclaiming, back in the States, “There’s so much radioactive material in that wretched part of Africa, you can see the fricking glow from outer space!”

After securing permission from the local government, Rock’s team had been sent in to escort a group of geologists to determine the magnitude of this find. The scientists had departed ten days ago, leaving Rock behind to negotiate with King Uno. This was the odd part of this whole business: We’re used to dealing with central governments, but when we told them where we wanted to go, they just said, “You’ll have to deal with King Uno.”

When I first saw King Uno, I had to use my military training to restrain myself – from laughing. We went in with our vehicles and our gear, making a lot of noise. Our translator asked where we might find the King. We were led to a field being hoed by a group of sweaty, gnarly savages – one of whom was pointed out to be King Uno himself.

He looked no different from the field workers or the other locals – his skin was deep blue/black bearing the wrinkles and folds of a hard life and premature aging. But he had an elegance about him that, we found out soon enough, was shared (though to a lesser extent) by his subjects. It surprised us that he spoke English in addition to that native rot. It surprised us even more when he rejected our offer to mine this ore in exchange for untold riches.

He simply told us that he and his people were already rich enough, and (get this) he asks us to leave. And a day or two later, he tells us to leave. That’s when I’d had enough. Who the hell does he think he is? We can simply take what we want and not give him shit for it. I told him so in exactly those words. And he seemed totally unimpressed by my threat.

It turns out, he knew a lot more about us than I could imagine from someone in so remote a place. He said, “All empires fall.”

I answered: “Ours will not. Show me a mightier force that can stop us.” And he said, “Alright, I will.” And he walks away. Not long after, we got the news from our comm link to European HQ. The entire US, after midnight, was devoid of people.

When I first beheld the dancing lights of the Uranium Hills, I told Uno, “What’s making them dance? Radiation from ore alone can’t do that.”

Uno smiled and said it was the Gods dancing. To be sure, yes, there was uranium ore present – in massive quantities – but also numerous were the Gods.

“Do your people come here every night to worship these Gods?”

“Not exactly. They appear and we worship each other. I and my people pay our respects and the Gods dance for us. And by this dancing, teach us and entertain us.”

Yes, I remember King Uno saying all this, but where is he tonight? He’s always here with his people. And now when I and my men are desperate to question him, he’s nowhere to be seen. Then my gaze flicks toward the hills, seeing something different this time. A blue flame, like that of an oven’s pilot light, separates itself from the other dancers on the hills. And it’s coming toward us – dancing toward us.

The locals show no fear, but this makes us very uneasy. The dancing flame, the size of a man, makes its way to a small clearing behind us. And the flame extinguishes to become King Uno. He doesn’t wait for our questions, but makes us an offer instead:

“You are soldiers in an army which has lost its reason for existing. You now have nothing left to defend. Yes, there are Americans living abroad who could, just like you, try to move back to the US. But there will be nothing for them there that won’t have already been claimed, or will soon be claimed, by others far more powerful than you.

“So I propose: Stay here, with me, with my people. If you really try to lose your arrogance and keep an open mind, you will soon enough be able to do everything I can do. For we are all truly equal, at least in ability and at most in finality of being. There are others among my people who can do at least some of what I can do, though I am the most accomplished.”

Rock interrupts, “You mean some of your wretched, beaten-down people can fill the sky and multiply themselves at will?”

“Yes.”

“Will they show us?”

“Not any time soon. They know you can’t handle that until you become more familiar with us.”

Sergeant Garcia blurts out, “Are you Catholic?”

King Uno replies, “No, we’re not anything even remotely similar to anything you’re used to.”

Doubting Thomas snarls, “How do we know you’re not just hypnotizing us? Using mind control to deceive us?”

“Fine,” Uno counters. “Leave if you like but also know you’re free to come back, as my subjects.”

“Subjects?!” Rock exclaims.

“Yes. I am the king here, which really means no more than I am the head teacher. If you wish to live here, then I will be your king. This is not negotiable.”

“Then we’ll leave,” Thomas threatens triumphantly.

“But,” King Uno continues, “How will you know that I am not still controlling your mind, no matter how far away you end up going? Or how far away you think you’ll go?”

After a silent pause, King Uno continues, “By all means, you are free to go. But you will come to see things as I’ve described them. The United States as a power is no more, though I doubt in your wildest dreams that demise could possibly be arranged by a dirty king in a forlorn and remote land.”

Sergeant Rock asks, “Why did you do this?”

“Your actions here were the straw that broke the camel’s back, so to speak. You and your kind have become a scourge upon this planet, though in the beginning you had far nobler intentions. But I did this, not to punish but to teach.”

“Teach? Teach us what?” – Rock.

“Teach that seemingly irresistible power is nothing but an illusion, which ends up overpowering those who think they wield it. As for your departed countrymen, they are safe though in entirely different circumstances than before. What you might call a sudden reversal of fortune.”

“What about our loved ones, who you’ve moved to that other place?” – Rock.

“This is a big planet with lots of people. You will find others, but I urge you not to love them but to show compassion instead.”

“What about love, is that so bad?”

“Yes, it is…at least when compared to compassion. If you decide to stay, that difference will be among my first lessons to you.”

“And I’m supposed to just forget about my family?”

“Yes, give them up, for they will never come back to you and you cannot go to them. You are not indispensible to them nor they to you.”

Sergeant Rock looks toward the heavens and spreads his arms asking, “What do we do now?”

King Uno smiles and says, “That’s a question I ask myself every day, and is a very good place to start.

Steven Searle for US President in 2012

Founder of The Independent Contractors’ Party

“By the way, that’s pronounced ‘King You-Know’” – Steve.

The Parable of the Honest and Excellent Physician

Introduction:

Looking back, I should have thanked Mike Huckabee for having intentionally thrusted religion onto the center stage of the 2008 presidential election. Most Americans fully understand this truism: war is too important to be left to the generals. I hope that Huckabee, as a preacher himself, can appreciate another truism: Religion is too important to be left to the preachers. I hope to thrust religion onto the center stage of the 2012 election. Consider the following parable to be part of that thrust.

The Parable Begins:

“I wrote the following parable as a reaction to a lie told by the Buddha in the famous The Parable of the Excellent Physician (Juryo Chapter, Lotus Sutra)” – Steven Searle.

Imagine a wise and skilled physician who can compound medicines to cure any disease. He has 50 sons and 50 daughters, each of whom he loves dearly. A man of great wealth and renown, he lives on a great estate with many wives and others who are zealous in their care of these children.

He journeys to a distant land at the personal request of the king. In his prolonged absence, the children’s caretakers become lax in their attentiveness. They see that the older children seem very able and very willing to take care of themselves and their younger brothers and sisters. The older children try very hard to be good guardians and the younger ones are cooperative and obedient.

This respect worthy relationship is due to the great, all-encompassing love felt by each child for each brother and sister, and to the immense respect they all have for their father. The caretakers, over time, lose their sense that even the most capable of their charges are still only children and are still in need of guidance. They are overly impressed with what is, in reality, a very limited form of enlightenment being manifested by the children. This enlightenment appears to be very profound simply because the caretakers themselves have only a limited capacity to judge and weigh the merits of the various types of enlightenment.

Left to their own devices, some of the older children gain access to a supply of various ingredients. When mixed together, these attain the appearance and taste of something quite desirable – but, in fact, would cause slow and painful death if ingested. The older children are so impressed with their alchemy that they forget their father’s oft-issued warning: “Just because something appears to be good, does not mean that it is. Many have died from such a delusion.”

The older children eagerly share the product of their “enlightenment” with their younger brothers and sisters. All eat fatal portions with great abandon and with great pleasure, all delighting in this great discovery. Before long, however, they all become ill – imperceptibly at first, but within a few days, many are reduced to a state of animality.

At this time the father comes back to his home and finds that his children have poisoned themselves. Some are out of their minds with delirium, while others are not so badly affected. Seeing their father so close to them after such a prolonged absence, all are filled with joy and kneel down to entreat him, saying, “How wonderful that you have returned safely! We were stupid and have poisoned ourselves. We beg you to give us some medicine to save our lives.”

The father quickly determines the nature of that which the children have eaten. Gathering the appropriate ingredients, he grinds, sifts and mixes them together in a large iron vessel. He offers this preparation to his children, saying, “Approach this vessel and benefit from its contents. This action will save your lives!”

Each child approaches this wondrous vessel – some with palsied steps, others with great conviction. But the medicine smells foul and causes the children to cry out, “This awful concoction cannot possibly save us; it must be an even deadlier poison. Our father must be making a mistake here.”

The father immediately scoops a generous portion from the vessel; then, with great melodramatic flair, chews and swallows it. Those who are not out of their minds, follow their father’s example, not even waiting to see if the concoction is in fact poisonous. Their faith is rewarded with a rapid clearing of the mind and an appreciable lessening of bodily discomfort. The father exhorts the other children to follow his example. The cured children are quick to again follow their father: They too exhort the unconverted children to partake of this foul-tasting but life-saving medicine.

The good doctor sees his dying children being exhorted by his cured children and also by the shame-faced caretakers. Such caring! Such devotion! He also sees his own shortcomings. Though he reads the minds of the caretakers, thus coming to know of their dereliction, he realizes that he has to shoulder a significant portion of the responsibility here. [Imagine! The children of a physician poisoning themselves!] But he also realizes that if any of his children die, that would be due to karma: his as well as theirs.

The father senses, correctly as it turns out, that the unconverted children will not be persuaded to take this life-saving medicine. As his mind races desperately for a solution, a daring plan starts to take shape. Perhaps he could, on some pretext, announce his departure, leaving behind this wonderful medicine, and then later send a messenger to announce his death to his children. This ruse could serve to shock them sufficiently into taking this medicine and saving their lives.

But…this would be a lie. And this physician was renowned even more for his honesty than his excellence. He could not tolerate even the thought of telling a lie, of creating a false cause for which false effects would eventually arise. True, this lie could save his children’s lives. But this would only be an immediate, short term effect. The false effects would become apparent and indeed multiply and assume great karmic depth as his children reflected more and more on the fact that their father could lie.

In a loud and clear voice full of conviction, the father chants a prayer in the presence of his children and caretakers. It does not take long for the cured children and the caretakers to join in the good doctor’s prayers – prayers which are most appropriate for this era and place. Before too long, even the sickest child is at least murmuring these prayers.

These prayers succeed in saving some lives; however, all 50 of this excellent and honest physician’s sons die, leaving him with 50 daughters. This is a terrible state of affair in this particular country, in this particular era, where only male offspring are deemed to be worthy inheritors. The bereaved father chants earnest and heartfelt prayers for the sake of his departed sons. Then he addresses his daughters and their caretakers:

“I purposely rejected a scheme which could have saved the lives of my sons. [After detailing the ruse of lying about his own death, he continues speaking.] I am telling you this now because of my firm conviction that NO lie is acceptable, not even this lie: silence about my contemplated ruse: in effect, pretending now that I had done all I could to save the lives of my dear sons. I tell you this because my sons already know of my contemplated ruse from their particular vantage point and because of this which I sincerely believe: Especially when it comes to matters of knowledge, daughters should not be treated any differently than sons.

“From death must come value which we must create. The first value to be created from the death of my sons is that I hereby voice my conviction that you, my daughters, are the equal of my sons. You shall inherit my estate upon my death. I will see to it that our king is persuaded to change the evil customs that lessen daughters in the eyes of the people. The king owes me favors and I know he will listen to me.

“Some of you may hate me for, in effect, killing your brothers by not lying about my demise. But I have never told a lie nor withheld the truth and I urge you to vow to always do the same. Your brothers are merely not with us at present. However, they died ideally: due to a cause of their own creation, and quickly. If I had lied to save them, then they would be encouraged to rely on unnatural interventions to save them from the folly of their ways. There’s no enlightenment to be gained by following that path. Their premature deaths are a cause that serves to obliterate evil karma which they’d accumulated from the distant past. Dying young, under favorable circumstances, can do this.

“If you must hate me for my truthfulness, then remember this: ‘One must learn not only how to love one’s enemies, but also how to hate one’s friends.’¹ It’s alright to hate me, but I implore you: learn how to hate me. Also consider this: If the circumstances of their deaths can speed their attainment of enlightenment, for how long can you hate me?

“The most useful, value-creative truth at this time is that it is really only a matter of time before you are reunited with your brothers. And I assure you: it will not be long at all before you are reunited.”

This parable has a delightfully improbable ending, although probability has nothing to do with the Law. Over the course of the next few years, this excellent physician brings into this world 50 babies whose mothers tragically die in childbirth and whose fathers are not honest enough to stay around to care for them. These 50, all boys, become the adopted sons of the excellent and honest physician. They, the daughters, and the father all sense the honest origins of the 50 boys. Yet, true to his word, upon his demise, it is the 50 daughters who inherit this honorable physician’s estate. And true to their upbringing, these true daughters treat these “true” sons truly – as equals.

¹ With apologies to Nietzsche’s Zarathustra.

:The Parable Ends.

In Closing:

I believe that everybody has religious or spiritual truth buried within; though with many (especially politicians), it’s buried pretty deeply. This extends even to atheists and agnostics, though they might refer to such truth using a variety of names: insight, perspective, common sense, wisdom, heightened practicality, etc.

As your next president, I want to encourage a national dialog on matters of ethics, spirit, skepticism, and various types of logic and foundation. This should extend to inviting our children to listen to our wisdom and to share with us their versions of reality. Even our youngest citizens should be shown that there is a great diversity of feeling on these subjects, even in their local communities.

Even within our schools, I would encourage dialog sessions including opinionated members of the community invited as guest speakers (I would gratefully accept such an invitation to speak). Or students could join me on the White House lawn with other adult citizens. As a Buddhist, I would offer an opportunity for anyone present to join me in a brief chanting session to kick off such gatherings. At least, for the first such gathering. For future gatherings, other leaders and non-leaders should offer their opening prayers.

Calvin Coolidge said, “The business of America is business.” To which I would add: “…not entirely, and certainly not at the expense of its humanity.” I hope my presidency creates space for more and more people to openly and actively – even in public forums – reclaim that humanity, even at the expense of business.

Haven’t we paid enough for long enough? Isn’t it time we got our money’s (and not just our legal tender’s) worth?

Steven Searle for U.S. President in 2012

Founder of The Independent Contractors’ Party

“You do not have to stand alone in your darkest hours, for I shall be with you in spirit and in quest. I hope you will do the same for me” – Steve.