Israel gives better (head)

Warning: If the topic of beheading bothers you, even when the point (as here) is to create a work of fiction, then don't read on.

Back in 2006, I had first offered this piece to the public, though on a now-defunct website. Even though Gilad Shalit is no longer a prisoner, I want to reintroduce this piece in the name of the larger themes it explores.

Triple-M Gives Good Head; Israel Gives Better

 by Steven Searle © 2006

Background and Dedication

On June 25, 2006, Palestinian militants either - depending on your point of view - "kidnapped/captured" Gilad Shalit, a 19-year old corporal in the Israeli army. When I finished writing this piece on July 20, 2006, nobody knew if Gilad had been executed and, if so, what retaliatory military response Israel would come up with. Israel's overreaction-to-date, however, leads me to wonder out loud: "Why are they militating so extremely? For the sake of one young man? Do they know something about him that the rest of us don't? Like, maybe he's the Messiah or something?" No, can't be, I'm sure this is not the case. Maybe some exaggerated invoking of "an eye for an eye" is at fault.

Or maybe something more mundane is at work. Perhaps the Israeli military is reacting to the audacity of a successful attack on one of its units. It's well known that authoritarians the world over do not like to be embarrassed and, further, tend to wreak havoc on their transgressors. Who knows?

Even if Gilad Shalit is alive and eventually freed, thereby reducing Israeli military hyperactivity (at least until the next "crisis"), I feel the following kaleidoscopic might be a reasonable indicator of events yet-to-unfold in the event of a similar seizure in the future. So it is to Gilad Shalit, to whom I dedicate this piece.

Forewarning 

I am sure many people will take offense at this humble literary effort of mine. For one thing, the subject is a decapitated head. This, I admit, is grisly enough to contemplate only in passing, let alone to dwell upon at great length as I have done here. However, I felt emboldened to proceed by keeping in mind that extremes in writing are sometimes necessary to match ever-evolving extremes in actual human behavior. Concerning events transpiring in the Middle East, writing in a nicey-nice manner won't cut it.

Then there are those who will see my words as anti-Jewish. For the record, I am not a Jew Hater, though I am personally uncomfortable with the very idea of a state conceived for the benefit of a particular religion. My feelings on this issue are equally negative toward the idea of an Islamic state or a Christian state...or a Buddhist one, for that matter. As far as negative reaction from the Mossad is concerned, I address those practical ladies and gentlemen as follows:

Frankly, I don't care if you conclude that you must hate me for my words. I do care, however, about what you might do, since violent overreaction by partisans of all persuasions seems to be very much in vogue these days. As bad as your overreaction might be for me, I fear it would be many times worse for you and, especially, for those things you care most about. I declare this from the standpoint of a follower of the Buddhist scripture known as the Lotus Sutra, which assures a horrible retribution in the here-and-now which will persist for many lifetimes for those who would harm a Preacher of the Law (like me, for instance).

I urge you, partisans of Israel, to carefully contemplate my presentation. Learn from it. Don't dismiss it too quickly. Let it sink in. Deep in your hearts, you know the tension in the Middle East cannot continue for much longer. Embrace your Arabic neighbor, for he is truly your brother. Refraining from this embrace is breaking God's heart. As for me, do not regard me too harshly. If you feel duty-bound to regard me as an enemy, I know that you will come to realize (after all gets said and done): "With enemies like Steve, who would ever need friends?"

Some Useful Definitions 

Definition:  "SuperBall (originally Super Ball) is a toy manufactured by Wham-O®. It is an extremely elastic ball made of Zectron®... When an original Wham-O® Super Ball was dropped from shoulder level onto a hard surface such as concrete, it rebounded to about 90% of the original height."- quoted from Wikipedia, the free, online encyclopedia.

Definition: "SuperDuperBall (SDB), capable of rebounding to 99% of its original height, is the next generation of SuperBall. SDB is powered by utilizing a bio-technology capable of actually storing ‘reboundability' in much the same way as capacitors (caps) store electric charge (i.e., caps and bio-caps are units capable of discharging when needed). Though no practical military use of SDB's has been conceived as yet, [U.S.] Commander-in-Chief has ordered all relevant information classified ‘Top Secret.'" - quoted from a stolen, classified U.S. Department of Defense document.

Definition: "AMD" stands for "Anti Missile Defense," a highly-efficient system deployed throughout Israel during the period of the following chronology, intended to destroy any incoming missiles launched from neighboring locations. Israel's AMD, developed jointly by U.S. and Israeli technicians, is considered the prototypical system for that which is being contemplated for imminent deployment throughout the United States. 

Definition: "IDF" stands for "Israeli Defense Force," the official name of Israel's armed forces.

Definition:  "Day Zero" is a day in the future which occurs months after a member of the IDF is kidnapped/captured by a previously unknown band of Palestinian militants calling themselves the Mighty Minions of Mohammed (dubbed "Triple-M" by the popular press). [Note: This seizure is the first to have occurred in years in the Palestinian Territories.] 

Chronology of Events Starting from Day Zero 

Day Zero (noon):

News Flash [Gaza City]: Nobody knew what Triple-M meant by saying, "The head shall soon be bouncing all over Israel." The whole world knew which head was being referred to; the "bouncing" part was the mystery. Now we know. Militants had already publicly announced that IDF Corporal Heezah Freemason* had been decapitated. Israel then responded by demanding the return of the corporal's head shortly after discovering the rest of him. Astonishingly enough, it turns out that Freemason's head had been encased within a transparent superball-like substance. Then, a powerful catapult having been used to launch it from an unknown point within the Gaza Strip, it arced over the border and landed in Israel. After bouncing crazily thither and yon for close to an hour, it finally stopped, crashing through the roof of a popular Israeli deli. Thank God/Allah no one in the deli was hurt. 

*Editor's note: "Freemason" was not always the family surname; Heezah's father (Ima) had it legally changed while still a U.S. citizen. The senior Freemason claimed: "I call myself ‘Freemason' because I would be more than happy to personally build a brick wall, free of charge, around any Jewish community in the world threatened by hostile neighbors."

Day Zero (9 p.m.): 

[Scene: Two young American volunteers in Gaza City. They are alone in a park, sitting under the stars on a clear desert night, sharing some private thoughts.] 

"Why didn't the Israelis open fire? Anything launched from Gaza has always been shot down. That's policy." - Eve. 

"Under normal circumstances, yes. However, they were willing to hold their fire and take a chance this incoming was Heezah's head. They definitely wanted to recover it intact." - Adam. 

"Why did they think it might be Heezah's head?" - Eve. 

"I heard Triple-M actually told IDF High Command they were about to launch Heezah's head, just before doing so. HC decided to take a chance and not engage their AMD." - Adam. 

"My God! ‘Take a chance?' What if it had been nuclear?" - Eve. 

[Laughing.] "Even though they didn't engage their AMD, SENSOR is always engaged. Within seconds, they knew it was non-nuclear. And that's all they wanted to know. True, it could have been some type of bomb, but they figured it was too small to cause major damage. So, like I said, they didn't shoot because they wanted his head intact." - Adam. 

"Why did Triple-M use a catapult? Was it to confuse or somehow thwart AMD?" - Eve. 

"AMD would have been quite capable of stopping anything launched, even by catapult." - Adam. 

"Really? I mean, what if an object is in the air for only a few seconds before it would hit its target?" - Eve. 

"Well, it would have to truly be ‘for only a few seconds.' Anything more than that would be stopped in its tracks. Even if it comes in without heat, like something catapulted, SENSOR would pick it up. You see, these days, everything in Israel is either highly controlled, under surveillance, or on a hair trigger ... including its citizens, I'm afraid." - Adam. 

"Back to my question: Why a catapult?" - Eve. 

"I think it was to make a statement, like ‘You may have the best air defenses in the world and we can't top that. So we'll try a bit of low-tech instead.' Besides, maybe SENSOR wouldn't have been able to ‘see' inside a missile to determine it non-nuclear. In that case, a shoot-down would have been necessary. And I'm sure Triple-M's big goal was to create a spectacle with this bouncing head - not wanting it shot down." - Adam.

"I heard IDF took the head in, ah, ‘custody' hours ago. And yet, no reaction from the Israeli government." - Eve. 

"Yeah, it's been awfully quiet." - Adam. 

Looking around and straining to listen, Eve says: "I can't hear a thing. It's like the desert itself is holding its breath." 

Day Zero plus 10 days:

Excerpt from secure e-mail between two agents of Israeli Intelligence: 

"Analysis of Projectile is complete. There is no doubt that Heezah's severed head was encased in what is now known to be an SDB-like substance, though the following is of particular interest: Using a process currently unknown to us or the Americans, the terrorists were able to ‘rubberize' the molecules of Heezah's head (similar to how organic matter is petrified). The apparent purpose of this was to prevent disintegration of the head due to shock waves generated within the SDB when making its multiple impacts (bounces) in Israel. We are attempting to replicate this rubberization process. More later." 

Day Zero plus 30 days: 

News Flash: No reaction whatsoever from official Israeli sources over this highly unusual first in the long-running history of terrorist attacks against Israeli citizens. This non-reaction is a first in its own right, as Tel Aviv is always very quick to (at least) verbally condemn any terrorist activity. Rumor has it, this silence is an indication of a severe split within the government as to how to proceed. 

News Flash: Throughout the Middle East, especially in the poorer quarters, the sport of basketball has witnessed an upsurge of popularity. Pundits throughout the civilized world have always appreciated basketball's time-honored utility as a poor man's sport. So it comes as no surprise to see many of the poorest and most idle of Muslim youth whiling away their time on the courts. What is surprising is the portrait of Heezah Freemason's head which is crudely painted on all of these balls. Oddly enough, this phenomenon has not been seen in any part of the Palestinian Territories. 

Day Zero plus 40 days: 

Two wealthy Saudis, in private conversation: 

"I really have to congratulate you on that rubberized-head idea. Your research team really showed the world what a group of committed and resourceful...no, forget ‘resourceful'...I'll just come out and say it: ‘stinking rich'... Arabs are capable of devising." - Alpha. 

"You want to know the funny part? The U.S. President himself told me about this Top Secret SuperDuperBall technology." - Omega. 

"He told you?" - Alpha. 

"Oh yes, indeed. He had a few drinks and ... we're ‘allies' don't you know? And the rest, as they say, is ‘loose lips.' But of course I didn't tell him we had already developed that technology ourselves, long ago. And, as well, I didn't mention our rubberization process." - Omega. 

"Why did you not tell him? Are we not ‘allies,' after all?" - Alpha. 

"Oh, yes. We are allies, but I'm not stupid." - Omega.

Day Zero plus 42 days: 

[Scene: Within the walls of a maximum security Israeli prison, Knitt'n Yah'hoo sits in solitary confinement, in the grip of a disturbing vision. Knitt'n was imprisoned for a failed attempt at suicide bombing ten years ago and found religion while incarcerated. He keeps his increasingly frequent visions to himself, saying nothing of them aloud, knowing that even the walls of his cell have ears.]

Knitt'n's vision: 

A transparent orb is sailing across the border. Within said orb I behold a head - and only a head. Its facial expression is a mask of pure horror, such as one would surely wear if knowing well in advance of one's own pending beheading. That's what's hardest about death: Having too much time to think about the blow that has been threatened. Or maybe the hardest thing occurs when the means of death is delivered slowly by unsteady hands. 

For as long as there have been men, we have dreamed of flight. But not like this. Not flying into one's homeland after being personally desecrated. Now comes the first of many bounces - this one, on the hard surface of a paved road - after which the orb sails once again high into the sky. I see that face in slow motion, rippling with shockwaves caused by smacking the highway. I see many more bounces and many attempts to snare this orb - all unsuccessful.

Then it stops after crashing through a roof. Passers-by, looking too closely at this atrocity fall back, tears blinding their eyes. They are the lucky ones, for they can look away. After a while, they will feel with less intensity the memory of what they saw. I, however, cannot get that face out of my mind; it is branded onto my eyes. Everything I see seems imprinted by that visage, solely for my consumption. The face of a man who might have been a friend, under other circumstances. 

Day Zero plus 60 days: 

[Scene: Two young American volunteers in Gaza City. They are alone in a park, sitting under the stars on a clear desert night, sharing some private thoughts.] 

"Did you hear what just happened?" - Eve. 

"Who hasn't? Imagine! Taking the severed heads of 20 prominent, imprisoned terrorist leaders, shrinking them so they'd fit into one small SDB, and launching it into Gaza." - Adam. 

"Well, at least IDF had the decency to warn the Palestinian Authority not to shoot, and why." - Eve. 

"Right, that's exactly what the world needs more of: this kind of decency." - Adam. 

"I heard lots of money changed hands for the Israelis to access the necessary technology for this operation." - Eve. 

"Yeah, money seems to work miracles every time. What would the Middle East be without its share of miracles?" - Adam. 

Day Zero plus 61 days: 

News Flash: There is an eerie silence pervading the Palestinian Territories, the day after 20 shrunken heads were launched into Gaza. There are no demonstrations in the streets, no wailings from the mosques, no self-flagellations in sight. The world is wondering, "How will the Palestinians respond to this outrage?" 

Day Zero plus 62 days: 

[Overheard in a marketplace.] 

"I guess ‘an eye for an eye' now means, ‘Consider us ‘even' if, for every one of our least important whom you kill, we kill 20 of your most prominent.'" 

Day Zero plus six months: 

News Flash: It's like waiting for the other shoe to drop. There has not been a single terrorist incident against the Israelis since Israel launched those 20 heads four months ago. What next? 

Day Zero plus six years: 

[From the diary of a prisoner of conscience in the United States, in the middle of serving his fifteen year sentence, who devotes his time to following current events, praying for the soul of Gaia, and meditating.] 

Dear Diary: 

Nobody visits Israel any more, that sad land of tragedy. I guess it's just as well their government built that wall. It serves well to keep out anyone who might accidentally wander into no-man's land. Nobody would want to cross that border now. 

I still cannot believe what happened. No one will ever get it right. After the 20 heads were launched, the Palestinians purposefully withheld any reprisal. I heard this was the result of a huge whispering campaign that ended up having a huge butterfly effect. You know, word of mouth, in effect: ‘Let us not respond, going head-to-head so to speak. Let's do what the Israelis would least expect and, ultimately, would themselves suffer most greatly from: Respond with submission. After all, isn't that what the word "Islam" means? To "submit to the will of God?" 

And "submit" they did. They did not react at all. They slammed the brakes on all of their vehicles, great and small, of externally-manifested Jihad. They said nothing unkind and did nothing unkind, including the few of them who still crossed the border on a daily basis to work in Israel. They suffered taunts and jeers to be sure, but maintained their submission stoically. And in this, the Palestinians were joined by their sympathizers throughout the Middle East. 

Then an amazing thing happened. With the terrorists/freedom-fighters no longer threatening them, the Jews turned against each other. The Super Duper Orthodox started the ball rolling by pointing accusing fingers at the [merely] Orthodox, saying, "You're not really Jews." The different factions became increasingly suspicious of each other, to the point where one small band of zealots stole some nuclear weapons from the Israeli arsenal, just to assure their own security. [I guess the small always fear the large.] Other groups, seeing this, obtained nukes of their own. 

Then, a very predictable thing happened. There was an accident, or a misunderstanding. Call it what you will, but it ended up in a nuclear exchange within Israel. It seems that years of ever-escalating insensitivity to Israel's Palestinian Problem induced such a state of paranoia as to make Israeli self-destruction inevitable. I guess that's human nature. Wasn't Israel supposed to be a light unto all nations? Tell me, what did it profit Israel by showing the world a light created by its own nuclear meltdown? Maybe this "light unto all nations" edict was intended to be a negative example. I don't know. 

Sad Israel. I shall now say a prayer for her. 

Day Zero plus Eight Years: 

A great Buddhist meditation master reads the minds of his close disciples, coming up with: 

·       Why was it so important for the Jews to have a nation to call their own? The Chinese take-over of Tibet didn't destroy Tibetan Buddhism. Also, the world community allowed that "Big" to take over that "Small" - without much complaint.

·       It is claimed in a certain Holy Scripture that God gave a certain land to the tribes of Israel. Did they not know that God was testing them? Not everything in such scriptures is to be taken at face value. Even in our Buddhist scriptures, there are sections where the Buddha himself actually lies and hopes that his disciples call him on it. It was one of the great failures of those in the Great Assembly of monks that, in fact, no one did call him on it.

·       An evil thought crossed my mind: I had always hoped for a great disaster to befall the Middle East. This would show the world how following false religion leads to disaster. Even though I know this to be true, there's no way the followers of Abraham could have known it; they'd be too busy finding ways to blame the Other instead of looking within themselves. I say mine was an "evil thought," because one should never pray for the misfortune of another. Instead, I should have prayed for their enlightenment. And worked toward it.

·       One could say, "The humiliation of the Moslems by the Great Western Powers was karmic retribution for the great arrogance of the Caliphate at the height of its power." As for the Israelis, they took the notion of God being on their side entirely too far. What greater arrogance is that? I wonder how they will resurrect themselves, and what this resurrected form will look like.

·       It will be interesting to see how Jews and fundamental U.S. Christians will come to interpret this turn of events. In times of great tragedy, the interpreters and revisionists start kicking their activities into high gear.

·       I wonder what God, that Great Bodhisattva Protector of the West, will do now.

·       There is a new sect calling itself "God is Greatest," which is gaining in popularity among disillusioned Western monotheists. They've abandoned all pretense of theology and Holy Scripture, becoming religious Know-Nothings. All they do is repeat aloud, over and over, "God is Greatest." How do I as a Buddhist reach out to people like this?

Day Zero plus Ten Years: 

[Scene: Two aging American volunteers in Gaza City. They are alone in a park, sitting under the stars on a clear desert night, sharing some private thoughts.] 

"Have you heard? Vietnam and North Korea are asking for U.S. military help. It seems China's ready to invade." - Adam. 

"I heard China wants to annex those two countries. Could that possibly be true? Whatever happened to the principle of Self-Determination - that Holy Grail of the Left?" - Eve. 

"I'd believe anything these days, including the truth: newly-discovered resources in these countries are ‘inspiring' the Chinese." - Adam. 

"Ah, a different kind of Holy Grail. I guess the Big will always be tempted to exploit the Small - unless the Small happen to have nuclear weapons [laughs]." - Eve. 

"or unless God is on their side [laughs]." - Adam. 

"Or both [both laugh]." - Eve. 

"I wonder...what is it that makes the Big big?" - Adam. 

"Maybe the Big guy is the guy who ultimately wins, assuming there is an ‘ultimate'" - Eve. 

"By annihilating his neighbor? Or assimilating him? Or thoroughly dominating him with some currently-unknown-yet-irrefutable technology?" - Adam.

"So that's it, then? We're doomed to an endless series of conflicts between Bigs and Smalls? - Eve. 

"Maybe things aren't so bad as all that. Even if a very ‘Big' appears on the scene, it could conceivably go the way of all the others: Power struggles from within, loss of vigor, over- or under-reaction at the top, corruption...all ultimately leading to breakdown. Some would call this: ‘failure of integrity.' I like that. Then it would join all the other failed ‘Bigs' in a special Big Hell." - Adam. 

"And not take us little people with it, I hope. - Eve. 

"Right, that is something to worry about. Seems like people are worrying more and more these days about how to deal with the various Bigs in their lives." - Adam. 

"Maybe instead of worrying, we should forsake the Bigs and, as individuals, just pray to deal with our age-old demons: Borders, Boundaries, and Behaviors." - Eve. 

"Don't the Buddhists call these three demons Greed, Anger, and Stupidity?" - Adam. 

"Same thing, yes?" - Eve. 

"Yeah...same thing." - Adam. 

FINISH 

Steven Searle, former candidate for US President (in 2008 and 2012)

Founder of The Independent Contractors’ Party

“In order to make some larger (hopefully) profound points, I’m willing to risk looking bad. Appearances aren’t everything” – Steve.

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.

Refuting the Abrahamists

We Buddhists have been too circumspect in refuting Western religions. Maybe some of us think the Abrahamists have to work it out themselves. Maybe...but that hasn't happened. They just get deeper into the muck of their own self-righteousness and limited world view.

We can disagree without being disagreeable - but we mustn't be shy about voicing our disagreements. And part of that “voicing” should include “God talk” – even though Buddhists don’t believe in God. A couple of “for instances”:

For instance # 1

“We should appreciate God for giving us our lives.”

My response: "And what did we have (what were we) before God gave us life? What was the ‘us’ that God gave life to when he gave it to each of us before (obviously) we were alive to appreciate this gift? And why are we better off having this thing called life? What were we - before being granted life - that could have appreciated the difference?"

No one "gave" us life - we've always had it and always will. Each of us is alive (actually, "is alive again") because it was time for us to wake up (be reborn) from the sleep (dormancy) we were in after our previous life ended.

For instance # 2

I was once told that proof of God's existence is inferable, being based on the complexity of creation itself. "Only a Supreme Creator could have crafted such a mysterious and unfathomable work."

To which I would ask: "And what was It that, in turn, had created such a Supreme Creator? For surely such an awesome Supreme Creator must have, in turn, been created by Something even awesomer."

What too many people fail to appreciate is the fundamental Is-ness of the Universe. Put another way: It is what it is and doesn’t need to do anything; doesn't need to "accomplish" anything; doesn't need to go anywhere - It simply Is.

If something appears complex to us, we don't have to jump to any conclusion that a Superior Craftsman must have created it. All we have to realize is, we don't understand or see the underlying mechanisms which brought it about. It's okay - really it is - to say, "I don't understand."

Could this be true: The greatest power of God must be to create other Gods? In effect, that's the essence of Buddhism, which I'll restate: "The greatest power of a Buddha must be to create other Buddhas." [And Buddhists make no bones about that; that’s a given.]

For instance # 3

What is God? For instance, to say Michelangelo was the source and creator of great works of art gives us no idea of what kind of person he was, but instead only gives us an inferential means of knowing anything at all about this man. Quite often in the art world, we find artists to be eccentrics who are really marginal (if not outright detestable) human beings who had managed, through their art, to put their best foot forward.


For instance # 4

God can't be "present everywhere," for if He were, He'd have to be "present" in evil. That wouldn't be possible if God were always good.

Then there's the issue of the Creation itself. Since God was perfect, He should have let well enough alone and not created anything. Since He was the only thing in the universe and in fact was the universe prior to the Creation, then the introduction of created things introduced imperfection and things that were not God into that universe. Can an entity responsible for introducing imperfection be considered perfect after that?


For instance # 5


During one of the few times I presented publicly, I asked my audience what they considered to be the ultimate power of God?" One man responded quickly though predictably, "The ability to create other Gods entirely equal to Himself." I used to give that answer myself until I thought of something even more radical. Since the ability to create (or more precisely, the ability to create something from nothing) is considered a uniquely Godly power, I offered its opposite: "Then so must be the ability to Dis-Create - that is, to turn something into nothing." A more radical part follows: "Wouldn't it be amazing if God could Dis-Create Himself, so that the Universe would be godless? And even more amazing if, after Dis-Creating Himself, Re-Created Himself as He was before? And even still more amazing if He Created, Dis-Created, and Re-Created Himself on a routine basis?"

My only purpose in asking such questions is to whet the appetites of others so they stop and think about what God is. For God isn't what the local Muslim imam or country preacher says He is, even if these (usually) men try to quote scripture to back them up. God is what you say He is or at least He is in a functional and applied way - that is the truth of the matter.

For instance # 6

You don't have to look too hard to see how tightly the Abrahamists embrace the secular state. In fact, more than embrace statism, they worship it. The Zionist Jews sought safety in the creation of their own nation because they didn't feel protected while living as communities in other nations. There are Muslims who long for the re-establishment of a Caliphate in order to nurture the ideal Islamic society, as well as for protection against the imperialism of the infidels.

Then there are Bible Belt Americans - specifically the kind who refer to theirs as a Christian nation [“Love it or leave it.”]. The kind who don't have much use for diversity - at least, not religious diversity.

The Buddhists have a role model, on the other hand, which refutes all of the arguments of the statists. Shakyamuni Buddha was a prince who gave up his throne - who gave up his country - in order to reach out to as many as possible to preach his message. Shakyamuni’s message was: “Each of us truly stands alone, without family, without country, without home – without any assistance in our search for enlightenment. Except for that rendered by fellow seekers of the Way and, should we be fortunate enough, by Buddhas.”

The true state-of-being exists within, and the sooner we get rid of the sovereign national state, the more security each of us will have.

Imagine, for one thing, not having to flush trillions of dollars down the toilet by not having to maintain standing armies.

Imagine that.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Steven Searle, former candidate for US President (in 2008 and 2012)

Founder of The Independent Contractors’ Party

"The sovereign state is the greatest enemy of Enlightenment. It seeks only its own perpetuation at the expense of everything else - even of life on earth if necessary" - Steve.

Of Buddhas, Bacon, and "Pigs"

“When I die, please slice me and dice me and feed me to pigs. Then, next time you eat a piece of bacon, think of me.”

That’s what I said when someone asked me, years ago, how I want to be remembered. After recovering from his shock, my friend said that was a mighty strange thing for a Buddhist to say.

Somewhat jokingly, I replied: “Oh, I don’t know about that. There’s a little bit of pig in all of us, of both the metaphorical as well as the grubbing type. I’ve eaten bacon my whole life, so why shouldn’t I return the favor to some pig somewhere? And, of course, that pig will return the favor after someone eats him. That’s what Buddhism is all about – a belief in the fundamental equality of all things and their cyclicity.”

I clarified, though, that my statement was more to be taken as a protest against burials in cemeteries, and the hogging (pun intended) of all that land that could be used instead for (say) a nice park, and to note how desperately people want to be remembered – that last part doesn’t mean much to me.

My friend protested that I should donate my body to science or perhaps dole out my parts as an organ donor. I replied, “These are fine options, but it’s my body and I’ll do what I want with it. Or rather, I’ll convey my wishes to others and leave it in their hands.”

“There are laws,” he said.

“So what?” I countered, “As I said, I’ll leave it in their hands. But…I won’t be disappointed if the baconization of Steven Searle doesn’t come to pass. If, however, I manage to become a Buddha in this lifetime, I will have the ability to at least give the appearance of this option becoming reality.”

Why think of this now?

The preceding conversation happened, as I said, years ago. But it recently came to mind when I was thinking about how 1960’s radicals use to call cops “pigs” during protest marches. I know this because I was at some of those marches and heard some of my fellow demonstrators call out this obscenity. Yeah, even then I thought of it as an obscenity, to call another human being a pig. I could never bring myself to do it. But I suppose some do it to make a point.

We do lots of things to make points. However, I remember reading an interesting observation in a local newspaper at that time: “In order for your revolution to succeed, you can’t polarize by calling cops ‘pigs;’ you’ve got to find some way to bring those cops over to your side.”

Conspiracy theories galore, but…

I’ve just finished reading an interesting book called The Creature from Jekyll Island: A Second Look at the Federal Reserve. If you love conspiracy theories, Creature will definitely hook you. But there are many conspiracy theories out there concerning themselves with how a powerful secret society of diabolical schemers is planning to take over the world (or already has). Freemasons and Illuminati come to mind, but (to be sure) there are others on this hit list.

[Or maybe (gasp), it’s an interlocking directorate.]

In the few of my blog posts* where I mention them at all, I simply call them the Oligarchs. I suppose it’s remotely possible that some of them might read my blog posts* – more or less as a form of cheap entertainment, I would guess. That being the case, I want them to think about something.

Dear Oligarch (or one of his loved ones):

I don’t doubt your intelligence or work ethic, not in the slightest. However, I suggest that you might want to take a moment to ask yourself: “What is real power and how might I obtain it?”

As you ponder those questions, think about Shakyamuni Buddha. Before he became a Buddha, he was an Oligarch just like you – that is, he was a prince who gave it all up in order to become something much more than a prince. However, it’s a vast understatement to say, “He gave it all up.” He didn’t give up anything. Rather, much like you, he had an instinct for a good trade. He knew he couldn’t be both a Buddha and a secular ruler, so (in effect) he traded a lump of coal for a lump of gold.

You might laugh and say, “I know what I’m doing and I’m pretty comfortable in my own skin, thank you very much.”

All fine and well, but all I ask is that you consider the possibility: Trade up and seek enlightenment. I’m not really much of one to talk, since I’m not enlightened myself (well, maybe I am a little bit, but not yet a Buddha). All I can do is put my offer into words. Which I’ve done here and now. According to the Buddha, we can all become Buddhas, which means that all of us can attain the same powers and abilities as Shakyamuni Buddha.

All that’s necessary to start a new seeker out on the path (even one who doesn’t yet know he’s a new seeker) is to hear someone extend the invitation. The hearing of the words is what’s important, so I’m sorry you can’t hear my voice making this offer. The Buddha placed a lot of emphasis on the hearing of the voice of the Law. But…I’ll have to make do with this internet-based invitation. It’s the best I can do, especially since I never learned how to put my voice on the internet via something like a YouTube clip. Hmm…maybe that wouldn't have been good enough, since that would only have been a reproduction of my voice.

If I ever see you face-to-face, I will invite you to practice Buddhism and seek enlightenment with my own voice.

There are two reasons I hope you’ll accept my invitation (with or without its being voiced):

·     Naturally, I hope you’ll practice and attain enlightenment way before I do.

·     I know that my revolution, in terms of what my presidential candidacies* of both 2008 and 2012 had (and still have!) to offer, can’t come to pass without you. Not all of you, since I know that can’t happen, but one of you will do quite nicely. Are you that one?

My sky can be your sky, too

One day, a couple of summers ago, I left my office and walked across campus toward a bus stop (yes, I take public trans). However, I didn’t get too far before noticing the most wonderful cloud formation I’d ever seen grace a setting sun. It was quite striking, I stopped dead in my tracks and beheld its wonder. Then I looked at the students and professors milling about, none of them noticing this stunning celestial display.

Then I thought, “How can they not see this?”

Then I remembered one of the benefits of Buddhist practice: Enhancement of the senses, especially the sense of appreciation. Not to take anything away from those clouds on that day, but it is worth noting that we cannot truly see unless we have the eyes to see. [The trick is, how to acquire those eyes.]

The clouds that day were truly breathtaking, comparable to the clouds that overwhelmed me the day after my best friend died twelve years ago. I walked across campus to his office to tell his coworkers about his passing, when I chanced to look up. Mike Tappin was a brilliant photographer, especially in black and white, which was how those clouds were toned on that dark morning.

I stopped in my tracks then and addressed the clouds (or rather, who I’d supposed was their artistic arranger) and said, “Thanks, Mike.” For I felt that he himself had shaped those clouds into an intricate roiling abstraction – who knows what the dead can do? I’d never seen anything like it in black-and-white before or since – my more recent cloudy experience having been in color.

Steven Searle
Former candidate for US President (in 2008 and 2012), and
Just another member of the Virtual Samgha of the Lotus

“Trade up and seek enlightenment" - Steven Searle.

Contact me at bpa_cinc@yahoo.com

Footnote and Postscript:

* - This asterisk is meant to convey that I am cross-posting this essay which I had first posted back on January 13, 2011 from this blogsite to this blogsite:

      From: http://ind4prez2012.blogspot.com

      To:   http://lotussutrachampions.blogspot.com

Postscript:  Today, Nov. 5, 2013, I not only posted this essay to my lotus site but I posted a slightly revised version (deleting the 2011 version), including the ending Footnote and Postscript, to my ind4prez2012 site.