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The good book says only God is good, so it seems to me somebody needs to step up.

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Your pal, Jess
Ladies- I'm a single, straight, virgo/boar INTJ (age 45) who enjoys books, getting out into nature, music, and daily exercise.

(my email is JesseGod@live.com)

F.Y.I. There are about 1000 posts..

Here's a quote from Fyodor Dostoevsky to start things off right: Love the animals, love the plants, love everything. If you love everything, you will perceive the divine mystery in things. Once you perceive it, you will begin to comprehend it better every day. And you will come at last to love the whole world with an all-embracing love.

Wednesday, April 26, 2017

Marcel the Monkey


Once upon a time, there was a monkey named Marcel. Marcel the monkey enjoyed bananas, swinging from tree branches in the forest, and whooping and hollering as loud as he could. He hated all the other monkeys, you see, and wanted to be a gorilla instead. But he was a monkey, and no amount of screaming would transform him into anything else. So he hated himself. A mere monkey!

Then a monk came along, and told him to key to being a monk was thinking of yourself as a monkey. And this was the weirdest thing Marcel had ever heard! A human monk thought of himself as a lower life form? an animal? A chimp? A monkey, no less? Why would he stop there? Maybe he should be an ant! A fly! Or a protozoan! So Marcel threw a banana at him. But the monk was happy, and was not bothered. He cultivated equanimity during meditation just for times like these. He enjoyed being a monkey. And monkeys are known to throw worse things than bananas!

Then Hanuman, the Hindu monkey God, heard about all this, in his heavenly realm, and decided to have some fun with these two. Real monkeys like to play! And as a God, he toyed with people, you see. So he hatched a plan to make Marcel appear glorious and godly to the monk, so he would be worshipped and praised and elevated to the status of a deity, like Hanuman. Then Hanuman could pretend to be Marcel, with riotous results! A switcheroo. Ha ha.

It was late at night, and Marcel and the monk were telling stories at the campfire, roasting marshmallows, of course. A talking monkey, you say? Well, of course. I'm writing this story, and that makes me a God of sorts. I can do that. I can make Gods into monkeys, monkeys into gorillas, and monks into hot dogs! (make me one with everything!) Anyway, as I was saying, they were seated around the crackling fire, watching the sparks rise into the heavens, and feeling groggy at the end of the day, as bedtime neared, enjoying their toasted goo, and pondering each others' clever words. Their eyes got heavy, and they nodded off, into a restful slumber, unbothered by anyone, be it monk, monkey, gorilla, or god. They fell into a state of deep relaxation, dreaming of a magical colorful land completely unlike anything in their earthly experience, full of castles and giants and strange creatures, like apemen and monkeydogs and spidermonkeys and horsefish. Morpheus, the God of dreams (and a friend of Hanuman) conjured up this shared realm, to blur the boundaries between man and beast, and make life more fun for everybody, in the process. A God of light should be a god of enlightenment, too, don't you think? Everybody was everything, in this world, and it was crowded, but it didn't feel full. Whales and krill were equals, here, as were Gods and men, or even Pedro the protozoa with Morpheus Himself! But morning approached, and all good things must come to an end. Back to life, back to reality, back to the forest, where the two awoke to a stranger sleeping nearby, who eventually introduced himself as Hank (who you might have guessed was in fact Hanuman), a forest ranger who chastised them for not being safer with their fire, and doing more to prevent forest fires (Hank was a bear of a man!). But no harm, no foul, as the fire had cooled to ashes, and all the forest creatures sang their praises for another delightful night in the company of the Gods.

So the monkey (Marcel), the monk (who had no name), and the monkey God H (Hanuman, who was undercover in the form of Hank), decided to go fishing for gar in the nearby creek. I see a gar! Said Garcia (which is what the monk decided to call himself). So the three ate. Which kind of made them eleven! (to the elves, anyway, who were not the best mathematicians). And the gar were gar-rrrr-ate! If you have never eaten gar with hot sauce (and monks never leave home without hot sauce), you really haven't lived, they all agreed. They became fast friends. “Marcel, why don't you like your fellow monkeys?” inquired Hank (who already knew the answer) “they seem like nice fellows to me!” Well, they stink, and they throw poo, and they eat bugs, and they never pick up their banana skins, and they're ugly, and not nearly as strong and good-looking as gorillas. Did I mention they throw poo? They throw poo!

You have a monkey-mind, my friend, said Hank, and you should not dwell on the less pleasing aspects of your kind. Monkeys are strong and beautiful in their own way, especially to other monkeys, so it is disturbing and strange that you yourself do not admire those who look most like you! What would you do if you were the God of monkeys, and could shape-shift at will into any form you choose?
You mean like Hanuman? He's a jerk! I asked him to make me into a Gorilla, I asked him nicely, and he didn't do ANYthing. Not one thing! I could be king of this jungle, but instead I'm just a stupid monkey!
Well, I'm sure Gods have their own rules, and changing species seems unnatural, if you ask me, replied H. Some things are better than being a gorilla, though, no?
If I may interject, said the monk... You, Marcel are a unique and amazing talking monkey, and your fur shines like the sun, your eyes sparkle like a brook, and your face appears to me as more glorious even than that of the finest maidens in my village, who I swear are in fact quite comely. I did not notice your true nature until just today, and I am awestruck by your exceedingly wise, bright, and -I must say- superior nature. I would even say you are like as to a God! (Hanuman had cast his spell, you see, on the monk).
I don't want to be a God! I want to be a gorilla! I want to be king of the jungle!!

Poof! Marcel turned into a lion, then ate the monk, just like that, at which all the birds erupted in beautiful song. Hank turned himself into a gorilla, and climbed onto a tree above this menacing lion. Will you eat me, too? I am strong, handsome, and some monkeys think I am the true king of the jungle! The lion, being a cat, was now wily, and decided gorillas might be tasty, he had never eaten one, so he yawned, made like he was going to nap, then sprang on the gorilla unawares a few minutes later, as his guard was down, and found this God's flesh to be truly delectable, unlike as to anything he had ever eaten before, something all lions would be blessed to enjoy throughout eternity, as a worthy sacrifice to the truly royal, regal, kingly, and kind Lion, king of the Beasts, lord of life, love, and all.

Note: I got tired, and created this ending to expedite an early finish. You are free to create alternate endings!

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