Wednesday, October 13, 2004

Some swine, they whine!

There once was man who went from pigpen to pigpen looking for prodigal sons to call forth from their wretched state. For he was once such a son.

All these sons were sorry souls that sat in their own excrement because they had forgotten what they once were. They had forgotten their fathers and the love of their fathers. The man who went from pigpen to pigpen could not see who was or was not such a son, for he was blind. All he knew was to walk the path and call forth. He tapped along the path and went from pigpen to pigpen, calling forth the good news to the lost sons. He did this so that they might remember what once was. So that what once was lost could be found! For when through the putrid stench of the pen a son did remember his father and he got up from it, it was a joyful day indeed! Such a son still carried the putrid stench for a bit, though. And as he walked back to his father's house he might yet slip and fall back down in the mud just a bit. It was a journey but they would be joyful on the path for they knew the path now. It would take some a bit of time to get the stench of the pen off.

One day, the blind man came to a pigpen and called forth the words, the essence and spirit of the message. He called it again. But all he heard in response were some swine that whined and squealed for the putrid garbage they had always been fed that would suit their swinish hunger for garbage.

So he walked over to the garbage pail and almost dumped some of the stinking trash into the trough for these swine that so whined for it. But then he thought, "Well, the butcher who will eat these swine my as well do this. They are his filthy pigs. He is the one who is going to eat them. So I'm not going to feed them this garbage just so they quit whining at me." Then the blind man thought, "Hmmm, I'll throw some of the pearls I have in my pail that the father has given me. I will do it just to make sure that there are no pathetic sorry sons here who cannot remember the riches they once had...such shattered remains of who they once were waiting to be called forth from their mind. For it seems that some have great difficulty in remembering after living in this stench for so long." Knowing all these things the blind man threw out pearls from his pail before the swine, that whined. The swine that whined kept doing so and the blind man threw pearls at one that whined loudly. This scared the swine that whined for the putrid garbage it had always been fed. So it ran to a corner of the pigpen and tried to hide behind one pearl. The blind man could hear it eating its own excrement in the mud there. He also heard some sons who were on the path back to their fathers. For they stopped by pigpens and called forth other sons with the great news. And since he could hear them picking up pearls to show to other sons around the blind man thought, "I suppose I'm not throwing pearls that swine will actually trample. Eh, my as well keep throwing them here for now. It's as good as any other pigpen. It seems that all the butcher's pigpens have the swines that whine and a few sons that have the ear to hear too."

It was only the sons who would see the pearls or hear the message. For the swine would just whine or try to hide in their own filth.

5 comments:

Anonymous said...

Uhm...let's see. I think you need to get a thesaurus to help you with your filthy, putrid, stinking writing. It might liven it up a bit. There is a more than a bit that needs to be helped. Perhaps next time you can think a bit before you bite off more than you can chew!

mynym said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
mynym said...

I changed my mind. It does need a few tweaks here and there.

So back up your claim and say where.

mynym said...

If anyone happens by and wonders about this. It is mainly because I criticized a writer who wrote an inverting of the Christian story, "Be more like an animal....the father must be reduced." rather than the pattern of the One. That's why His parables say the exact opposite.

Found here:

http://billboyd.worldmagblog.com/archives/010132.html

I said that it is best not to begin a story referring to the smell of chest hairs. I suppose I'm biting off more than I can chew up. Maybe I can chew up a bit, a bit.

mynym said...

Well, I'm off to bed. Figured I'd check comments here once more.

When some Christians get upset it is like Ned Flanders on the Simpsons: "Heidely-ho good neighbor, I'd just like to help you with this didly of a pickle."

You can just sense the tension behind their words. It's pretty funny.