The straight bridge, without level

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Now it came to pass that when the Grand Poopas, Aficionados, Ballyhoos, Facilitators, Change Agents, and Enforcers came together in the city of Loondumb, within the Dominion of Grand Braintian, there appeared a scientist so much filled with his own reason that he bewitched the Grand Council beyond measure.

He offered to them his scientific odyssey, “If we being the gods of this planet, say, ‘We can,’ then all of us know that it shall be done – for yes we can! I propose we build a bridge to Heaven and make our name great among the Stars.”

The cadres of the Grand Four diligently fixed their eyes upon this scientist – invasively piercing his soul to test his trans-science. “Shall we not put this vision of yours to the test of trans-human reason?” Whereupon, they all made the sign of reverence, and called unto them-selves the wisdom of the Association of Helpers.

The Associations plied the scientist with vexing questions of great import: “How much will it cost and what profit shall we gain? – will it draw the minions of slow-witted under our care, closer to behest, forthwith to grovel at our feet, and lay open palms to receive our blessing?”

Without the least hesitation, he grinned so magnificently that the most of the group believed him without knowing his plan, and so he spoke methodically with his trans-reason. “Consider – yes, place within the gates of thy thaneship’s eyes, a grand bridge of trans-humanity stretching upward into the heavens. All of the trans-persons will have a part of this scheme, for wherever there is a Dominion, there are trans-persons. And wherever there are Trans-persons, the Bridge shall be seen far above them, as a sign of trans-human’s ingenuity and godhood. And who better than the Grand Council understands that Signs are what grasp the imagination of the beings. It is not logic or law that makes us, or will re-make the world to Trans, but Signs and Symbols.”

The Council listened intently. Every word spoken was treated as a holy imprecation.

“We shall build this bridge differently than prescribed by nature’s archaic order. For whatever nature demands, we can master it, and make it trans – and thereby better! We shall make the Bridge straight as thy lordships’ arrows, and not subscribe to level. So shall it ascend the heights into the heavens. When built, we shall bring our corporations and commerce to the very gates of the Great City. Shall not the Stars realize our magnificent efforts and grand schemes, as worthy? Shall they not favor our effort as major value? Our trans-ness will be so complete that the Stars will purchase stock within our Dominions and come to live with us in peace. We shall intermarry and become one with the Stars of Heaven.”

They were enthralled! No one, ever, ever before, had dreamed a dream of, yes-we-can, like this dream. “It can be done – it shall be done. Yes-we-can.” They shout as one voice.

Now, there lived in a small hamlet a man who reasoned by the “old way.” He heard of this new device that was to be built, and hastened to warn the counsels, lest the worst of it fall upon trans-humanity, and upon the few humans that co-existed. He sent letter, as it were, to the Office of the Grand Worshipful Master: “Sir, consider well thine affect, and reason by the old way. Remember that level, has always been the way of the world. To follow straight, without level will bring you nowhere at all. For that which holds us fast aground, has at its will to release, when we stray too far? It may be that the Grand Poopas build a bridge to nowhere – that shall break astray endlessly among the Stars – so much so – that the travelers who wish to do commerce upon it, walk into darkness never to return. There would be no profit.” It was signed, “Your Most Humble Servant, Human pre Dictor Not aDamus.”

Well, the letter was shown to the Grand Poopas, Aficionados, Ballyhoos, Facilitators, Change Agents and Enforcers, in the city of Loondumb, within the Dominion of Grand Braintian. As one man, they scowled and howled and flared at the letter. “Is there no peace upon the earth anymore?” They raged.

The cadre of four stood defiantly, and he who was the Worshipful Master called out in a loud voice, “At the time of our birth, in the year 15, it was ordered that no being, whether trans or human, should consider the Old Way, since we have made pact to never go that way again. Yet, here we are with some Order of the Old that has kept us from becoming all that we can be.”

When he had said, “all we can be,” his face grew introspective and he leaned over to his trans-sexatary and ordered it to place these words on every barracks of the military, so that it would a memorial of motto. “How ingenious I am,” the Master thought.

The Grand Worshipful Master continued. “We have managed to make the first leap of faith, and yet we have been set upon by human wisdom, with not the least bit of trans-humility.”

“What shall we do, O’ Worshipfulness?” the assembled crowd cried out.

The Worshipful Master uttered his final decree. “We shall imprison all who speak against our wisdom. Those who are known to be leaders of the Old Way, we shall “trans” them forever, by favor of decapitation. Previously, we had mercy on them, when they refused, The Mark, The Name and The Number, as feofors of a feoffment – to us feofeees. Our legal language could not have been simpler.”

When he said the ineffable words, Mark, Name and Number, and reminded them of the feoffment, all the parlay fell to their faces upon the ground, and groveled, moaned and gave thanks – to whomever thanks should be given – if there is thanks whatsoever to be contrived – to whosoever it may belong – and the crowd starting quietly humming the national tranthem: “Fee I foe. Fee I fee. Fee I ficky fi. Fee I foe…”

The auditorium swelled pride and embroiled emotion. “Did we force our way upon them? No! We transly encouraged them; but if they decided they would not comply with the New Order, they are to find their own food, and shelter. Did we not encourage them to take the oath of execration, or starve? We warned them, did we not? It was their choice. But now, they have dared to quell our peace, and pervert our cause. We shall rid ourselves of these loathsome spores and displace them from our Great GAIA principle, forever”

The High Priestly Luminary Prefect raised himself and stated.”Remember the great GAIA principle number 1: “Do unto others, before they do unto you!”

His statement hushed the crowd for the words spoken from the Holy Dribble, was beyond awesome.

And so it was – that decrees went forth to rid trans-humanity of the interlopers of goods and services – for they breathed the air without paying the taxable Air Credits. They used the sacred atmosphere of GAIA and did nothing the sustain it.

In time the people of the Old Way, the humans, were arrested and confined with some gladly accepting the trans-reward of martyrdom. The Bridge was commenced and all was well until they reached a height of one mile.

A trans-engineer told the governing council that the bridge was leaving the surface of the earth, and although that was anticipated, when building straight without level, they had forgotten to make corrections for the curvature of the earth. He transoned that at some point, many trans-humans will not have the bridge over their Dominion, and therefore will not have the Great Symbol, to view and relish.

This caused consternation among the Trans-Council and so they transoned that they would make the Great Symbol of Bridge available to be seen via smoke and mirrors. After all they thought, did not our ancestors of the ancient days soothe by reading the clouds? We shall do also.

After many months of building, several Dominions complained that they could not view the Great Symbol of the Bridge. The trans-engineers placed large mirrors in space that reflected the image of the Bridge downward. However, when the bridge was on the shaded side of the earth, it did not reflect its image, and so trans-humans began to believe that the Bridge was an illusion. So the Grand Council made a decree: “He who says that the Bridge does not exist, is a traitor. We order the trans-citizens of the World to read the Sign of the Bridge, by auguring the clouds. If trans-beings stare long and hope in change, we are certain that all beings will grasp the vision of the Great Symbol of the Bridge. Set forth this 1260th day, from the year of the 15th.”

One reluctant Trans-human made inquiry of the edict, stating: “What shall I do if the air is clean and without clouds? How shall I augur by soothe?”

The Grand Council had him brought before them, and after being examined by the Trans-physicians, his mind was corrected by a baseball bat blow to his Frontal Lobes, causing detachment of his retina.

“And what do you see now,” the Grand Council inquired?

“Everything is cloudy,”

“Good! Go home now, and give thanks to whoever it is that thanks should be given that you have received this blessing. For it is a fact – few Trans-persons see what you are seeing now!” And the Council congratulated one another on solving a Solomon’s riddle, and acting with the wisdom of Jabalon, and his prophet, Hiram Abiff.

The day came for opening the Bridge to the Great City. The engineers told them that it was completed, though in fact it was not. They had come upon obstacles on nature that prevented the bridge from continuing into space. They transoned that reality is best achieved by belief in what was not, since what is believed may become so, because of the hope of Yes We Can.

A few merchants of the Trans-Canaanite Dominion walked the Bridge that was built to straight specifications without level, and they disappeared into the clouds and never returned. So the Grand Council sent more commercial investors from the Dominion of The Great More of Jabalon. They too never returned.

So it was ordered that a robot be made with cameras that would ascend the Great Trans-Bridge. After several days the robot stopped and sent back photos from space that clearly showed that the Bridge had been broken off at some point and was floating endlessly in space. However, there appeared at Bridges end, a small light that was silver in reflectance, a glowing orb; and from it a trans-being appeared, then another, and another. The first was tall with a long slender body, an extended cranium, big oval eyes and long fingers. The second was short with a large round head, and odd appendages, waxing grey, and pointing his index finger at everyone. The third was very odd indeed. He was muscular, tall with scales upon his body that reflected light in all directions, and his countenance reminiscent of a snake. As they disembarked the glowing orb, the snakish one, said in tone of clicks and dis-resonance of audible vocals, “Take us to your leader.”

The robot complied and a marching band was assembled. As the Trans-beings descended the Bridge, they asked the Grand Poopas, Aficionados, Ballyhoos, Facilitators, Change Agents and Enforcers, in the city of Loondumb, within the Dominion of Grand Braintian, “Have you prepared our Trans-bodies that we may transcend our first estate and take up residence within, and rule over all of you Trans-primates.”

The Grand Council was speechless, but decided to offer amenities of hospitalities to the Trans-travelers. “Since your voyage was long and we can detect your need of bathing. Consider refreshing yourselves, so as to remove the odors of sulfur and rotting flesh that accompanies you. Afterwards, we have a feast of vegans for you. As you know we have done away with the eating of meat, and a few other trifles such as marriage. You will also find that we have changed the times and seasonings, so that things taste better with bitter herbs.”

The snakish one marveled at the Worshipful Master and inquired, “Do you mind if we eat now – because we are famished, and since you do not eat meat, then there will be more for us.”

The Master shrugged his shoulder and imparted an affirmation, to which the three Trans-travelers fell upon the council and began to surfeit themselves upon the councils’ raw flesh. Notably, the three started with the heels of their victims.

Horrified, Trans-humanity heard the travelers say, “We were satisfied for a while with your war dead and the tasty aborted fetus offerings – a satisfying desert, but now we have come for the main course!”

It was a dark day indeed for the One World Transition, but needless to say there remains a wise old human proverb from the Great City of Light that explains all of this:

“Don’t hand your foot to the one that bites you!”  

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