HanuHanu

Speaks

(The HanuHanu Gita)

The Renowned Giant Orange Monkey’s

United-Nations-Sponsored Lecture Series

presented by

in association with the

Transcripts & Notes

by

Blind Cupid

Testimonials

"Blind Cupidś words are as relevant for Dogs as they are for Human Beings.

I would recommend this book to any Dog who still considers themselves a pet."

´Xueyou´, Golden Retriever, Shanghai, China,

Elder of the Alliance for the Dignity of All Creatures.

"Wop, Bang, Wallop; man! This book rocks!

Get with it, Human Creatures!"

His Excellency, Mr Mahatma Mandela-King, United Nations Secretary General, Burning Man City, Nevada Desert, USA.

"The HanuHanu Lecture Series was pivotal and catalytic for so many of us. For me - most certainly! But how was it for the Giant Orange Monkeys? In this fabulous rendering of the HanuHanu Lectures, Blind Cupid takes us ´behind the scenes´ - laughing-and-dancing-us through the Giant Orange Monkeys´ World of Oneness with All Creatures - thus, naturally, inviting us to imagine what-it-might-be-like for US to live Our pleasures-and-pains as Human Creatures - within the Family of All Creatures."

His Holiness The Pope, Supreme Pontiff, Bishop of Rome, Italy.

(After his much-publicised Apotheosis - during which he went on a-multi-zillion-Lira Bestowing Spree - signing-away Cathedrals, Monasteries, even the Vatican -and after which, he went to live in the suburbs on the outskirts of Milan, in indistinguishability. There he looked for a job, but it wasn´t easy - due to the singularity of his Employment History, and the relevance of his Character References - however, eventually, he got a job in a motorcycle factory.)

"There are smells that make my sap go flat-in-the-night. There are smells my trunk would twist-for! The smell of Human Industry makes me want to run! In HanuHanuś Lectures I smell something so-delicate, yet torrential and exhilarating; in Blind Cupidś notes and anecdotes I smell something magical, sparkling with possibilities - like Elves up-to-mischief in the Moonlight! "

Michelle Kandoogo, Birch, Essex, England

Table of Contents

Part One - Vision

1 I, Blind Cupid, Introduce HanuHanu

2

2 HanuHanu?

5

3 The Day of the First Lecture

6

4 United Nations Sponsorship

9

5 A Note on the Nobel Prize

10

6 Peace by T-Shirts

13

7 Lecture 1: Human Superiority

16

8 How We Got to Essex

25

9 Genital Barometer

28

10 Gooj

30

11 Estate Security

33

12 Lecture 2: How to Become an Animal Again

36

13 The Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys

46

14 The Hundred Human Effect

49

15 Save The Lesbians

53

16 The Liberation of the Chickens

61

Part Two - Division

17 The Battle of Merchandise

68

18 The Psi Ops Teams

71

19 Garangula Gets in the Groove

73

20 Things Humans Ask

81

21 Lecture 3: Not Knowing

85

22 The “How Many Humans Give a Shit?” Questionnaire

96

23 Quadrophasic Synaptic Linking

101

24 The Great City Dig-Up

104

25 The Tribe Has A Baby

108

26 At Lake Wet

113

27 Lecture 4: The Bliss of Belonging

116

28 Solar System Supper

127

29 Stop Cannibalism Now!

132

30 The Uuuurgasauri

136

31 Ecstatic Shock Therapy

141

32 The Trojan Banana Spa Resorts

150

33 Jonny & Yoddy

155

34 The Buddha Toddlers

161

35 The Alan Watts Zen Squirrel

170

Part Three - Decision

36 A Momentous Moment

180

37 Lecture 5: Not For What, nor Whether, nor How - but As Whom?

184

38 The Giraffe Whispererś Fear

197

39 Armageddon, The Finals

201

40 Ways to Fight

207

41 The Courtship & Marriage of The Great Bolderdash & The Great Oak Mother 215

42 The Uuuurgasauri Strip Off

219

43 The Atlantean Bunker

224

44 Omar & Bubbles

227

45 Phillip Wise Sword

233

46 The Turnstiles & The Booths

236

47 The Defender Side of Plastasia

240

48 Tumo de Pinya

246

49 Ma Tiger Balm

251

50 And Still They Came

256

Epilogue

260

Publisher's Appendices

Appendix 1 Negotiations with the Author

263

Appendix 2 Publisherś Disclaimer

267

Appendix 3 Literary License

268

Part 1

Vision

1

I, Blind Cupid,

Introduce HanuHanu

am Cupid, son of Cupid. I have the same-name as my Father, The Roman God of Erotic Love. I was conceived immaculately when my Father gazed upon Besheesha, I

a spectacularly radiant Female Giant Orange Monkey; and became so enamoured of the way she touched-life, and the way she let-life-touch-her; that he released a Ray of his Blessing into her Womb. And that Ray became Me!

As a symbol of my readiness to Love Anyone, I was born a Hermaphrodite, with both a vagina and a penis-and-testicles. And as a symbol of never-being-distracted from Oneś Own Unique Experience, I was Born Blind. I came out of my motherś vagina, bow-and-arrow in hand, quiver strapped to my back - and already had Little Wings.

Even though I am over-seventy now, I look like a chubby Giant Orange Monkey Child.

I sense my Father felt the Estate of the Giant Orange Monkeys would be a safe-place for his son. And I sense my Father intuited HanuHanu would take a special-interest in me, and show me a special-kindness. And whether thatś true-or-not - thatś the way itś-been.

When we were children there was a-moment-when, suddenly - all of the Children of The Tribe, as if One, became-aware of how Different I Was - and HanuHanu felt-that-moment, and called a Whole Tribe Gathering. Here are some things that were said:

"Cupid is unique, in a Cupid-way - as-is everyone unique in their Own-way. And because, by definition, úniquesáre incomparable: no one can be-judged superior or inferior. In fact, it is our Uniqueness that makes-us all Equal." (HanuHanu)

"Uniqueness is not about abilities, or even appearance. It is about each individualś indefinable, ever-changing flavour." (Garangula)

But mainly there were hours-and-hours of naming Each Otherś Flavours - and falling-about-laughing! I got-called ´Vanilla Pod´! And Śweet Honey Bee´! That was almost three-quarters of a century ago, and I remember it so, so well! It felt (to me), like joy -

like a Cloud of Love had Burst in the Sky above me, and was raining down all-over-me!

In fact, it was my First Orgasm.

2

Then there was the-moment, when we were adolescents, when-again, suddenly - all of the Adolescents of the Tribe, as-if One - Saw Who I Am, and felt the Erotic Oneness in which I Undulate, softly, all day - and night. They Saw I am Cupid - delicate of heart; sometimes clearly-female, sometimes clearly-male; playful; in Union within Myself.

Seeing Me, they Saw Sex - and realised they Knew Nothing about either-of-us! And, again - it was HanuHanu who-felt their Sudden Seeing, and Humility; and called a Whole Tribe Gathering - to help us through that-awkward-moment..

We, the adolescents, were invited-to-sit in an Inner Circle, with the rest of The Tribe sat around-us. I especially remember Koshofuś words:

"Follow the Heat of your BodiesÍnstincts - Yes! But not to the exclusion of the soft-heart, the quiet-mind, or the Sublimity of Belonging. To exclude any of these four could Damage our Descendants."

But again, itś the atmosphere I remember most. I Experienced Everyone talking-so-truly about instinct and lust, love and intimacy, oneness and ecstasy - that we were All Taken. . the Adolescents, the Elders, the Whole Tribe. . All of Us... into one, Big Erotic Sublimity! That-time - no doubt-about-it: the Orgasm was Collective!

I could give lots-more examples from throughout my adult-life. Lots more. HanuHanu has always felt-my-moment, and kept-me-close. Both figuratively and literally: not-only have our Hearts always Sat Close, but I have also sat-physically at-his-side my whole adult-life, as the Keeper of the Tribe Annals1 - transcribing his Lectures, and documenting the living-and-dying of the Giant Orange Monkey Tribe on the Essex Estate.

And I have been a very happy, divine, blind, double-genitaled, young-looking Giant Orange Monkey with wings! I am blatantly Unique and Indefinable. And I feel HanuHanu is a champion of everyoneś Uniqueness and Indefinability - a Champion of Equality; and therefore, ultimately, of Love. What can I say?! Heś my Champion!

And so to the Task at Hand. .

Most respected Human Beings - beings for whom, in-great-part, the Annals of the Giant Orange Monkey Tribes of the Earth were first-conceived, and have always been-written - as the current Scribe and Keeper of the HanuHanu Tribe Annals; I Cupid, Son of Cupid, Son Of Besheesha of Radiance and Grace; in deepest gratitude for all I feel I have received, and continue to receive; present to you here - for your entertainment, and for your elucidation - the Renowned HanuHanuś radical, 3

revolutionary, reposing and replenishing United Nations Sponsored, globally-broadcast and live-streamed Lecture Series "Wakey Wakey, Little Cousins!"

Notes

1. The text you have in front of you, is a section of the Giant Orange Monkey Essex Estate (European) Tribe Annals. It is the section devoted to Recounting the Unfolding of Events during-and-throughout the United Nations Sponsored Lecture Series, ´Wakey, Wakey Little Cousins!

I have, however, attempted to make it a stand-alone Annals Pull-Out Section. . deliberately including extra Giant Orange Monkey historico-socio-cultural background information - so that it will make sense even to a Human Being unfamiliar with the Giant Orange Monkeys and our Annals.

I have called this Pull-Out Section ´The HanuHanu Gita´ - because the text sits-within Our Own Epic Annals, in the way that The Bhagavad Gita sits within the Epic Mahabharata. And I´ve also called it ´The HanuHanu Gita´ because in-it, HanuHanu addresses the Human Family much-as Krishna addressed Arjuna - offering, as did Krishna to Arjuna, albeit in more-modern terms: a Path of Remembrance of Oneś Belonging. . In fact, Sobli1 calls it ´The Book of Belonging´.

In an aside, let me add, that Rumpum and Dililane1 tease-me, and insist that, secretly, The HanuHanu Gita is a Tantric Sex Manual. "Cupid!"

they laugh, "you can´t help-it, can you?!" "Each of Us enacts their nature, I guess" I say; then smile and confess "I just want the Humans to be Happy!"

Footnote to Footnote

1. You’ll get to meet Everyone, as we go-along!

4

2

HanuHanu?

ut first, a note for The Few who don´t know HanuHanu - who might be B wo ndering "HanuHanu? Whoś this HanuHanu?"

HanuHanu is a Direct Descendant of the Hindu God Hanuman. This is confirmed not-only by the Giant Orange Monkey Oral Tradition, The Vine of Time; but also in-writing, in the Giant Orange Monkey Annals of every Tribe everywhere.

HanuHanu is a five-metre-tall Giant Orange Monkey. He speaks seventy-five languages and dialects, and holds honorary-professorships at Oxford, Cambridge, Harvard, M.I.T., and sixteen other of the worldś most prestigious universities. He is famed among Human Beings for his benevolent wisdom, and his interventions have been influential in averting umpteen humanitarian crises. He has four arms, and carries the Golden Sceptre-Mace of Radiant Power (in his upper-right hand), and the Giant Love Lotus of Unbearable Beauty (in his upper-left). In 2003 he was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize.

HanuHanu currently lives among a Tribe of approximately fifty Giant Orange Monkeys, on a largely-forested, fifty-square-mile, private estate in the County of Essex, just outside London, England.

5

3

The Day of the First Lecture

I

he Estate is a forest, and the forest is our home. But we maintain a very large clearing for meetings with Human Beings. We also use it for events of-our-own.

T It is oval, and tiered like a football stadium. We call it The Amphitheatre. There are no seats in the tiers though - theyŕe covered in grasses, clover, dandelions and daisies.

By contrast, perhaps, at both ends there are state-of-the-art Solar Electricity Charging Stations for camera-crews, and other Human Visitors (and also for our own use - like at our Full Moon Celebrations, which I love!).

That day was a grey, drizzly, mystical Essex Autumn Day. No dignitaries had been invited, but camera-crews, and coachloads-of-translators, were all driving in-through the Estate Gates; down the mud lane between the Noble Oaks, towards (it seemed to me), a palpitatingly expectant Amphitheatre.

When the Humans reached the clearing, Giant Orange Monkeys would direct them to their parking spaces. Other Giant Orange Monkeys were setting up the sound-system.

Others were just generally helping the Humans settle-in - directing the translators to the Simultaneous Translation Facility at the back of The Amphitheatre; pointing-out the whereabouts of the Human Refreshment Tents, the little, human-size Urine-Diverting Compost Portaloos, and so on. .

Around the perimeter of The Amphitheatre there lived-and-died Communities of Trees: the Esoteric Ash Family, the Sensitive Aspen Family, the Elegant Birch Family, the Passionate and Progressive Sweet Chestnut Family, and many more. Among them, Many Elders - thirty, forty and fifty metres high. . That-day the Giant Orange Monkeys were lazing-about among them. It had been found that at events such-as-these, quite-a-lot of Humans would feel intimidated by The Whole Tribeś presence. They were keeping a-discrete-distance - exchanging manicures and pedicures; massaging each other; Listening to the Day; kissing, having sex; playing Go with pickled and dyed Acorns on an unbordered board; snacking, chatting, relaxing. .

II

The Internet had been Vibrating Passionately for-months - anticipating this Lecture Series. It was being seen, unanimously among nations, as a Major Global Event. Today was-to-be: Day One of a globally-advertised, almost-religiously-anticipated Lecture 6

Series. There was hardly any Human Being on Earth who hadn´t heard of HanuHanu.

And the United Nations had asked for his śocial, ecological and spiritual counsel´

(exact wording of the Letter of Invitation).

That a five-metre-high Giant Orange Monkey at least five times as-old-as any Human Being alive; with an intelligence far-more-than five times as-great-as any Human Being alive; and rumoured to have all-sorts-of ´powers´, was about to Speak to Humanity in a series of Lectures addressing its freely-confessed, suicidal self-destruction (which was already taking so many Other Species with-it, and ruining the land, the air and the water for The Rest of Us), was an unlikely, almost-surreal, Almost Miraculous Event -

awaited by millions, if not billions, with one Big Held Human Breath.

There were crews from every continent, and from every Human Nation. I was listening to the dancing-hum of their many languages; when, quite suddenly, they all went-silent

- as-if some Collective Intuition Knew he was near. Yet I have seen-without-eyes, again and again, that nothing can ever prepare Human Beings for the bulk, the enormity, of HanuHanuś physical presence; nor for the vigorous, authoritative potency he emanates; nor for the depth of gentleness in his eyes. They are almost literally ´blown away´, like leaves. And then, and then. . when ´the big monkey speaks´.. it turns their worlds upside-down!

The Giant Orange Monkeys who´d set up the sound system had created A Sitting Place for him, with the trunk of an elderly Sweet Chestnut as support for his back. On the earth they had placed piles of furs, the Skins of the Monkey Ancestors - both for his comfort, and in Honour of Our Ancestors; the Extension of Whom we-are. Are we not?

As was the custom at the time, I, the Tribe Scribe, was seated to the right of where HanuHanu would sit. And Gooj, the Tribe Buffoon, was seated decoratively, as Proud as an Owl, to the left of where HanuHanu would sit. Around this Sitting Place there were heaps-of-fruits, and clay-buckets full of fresh-water from the Estate Wells.

I could feel HanuHanu approaching. I could feel his-presence-moving through-the-silence with Simplicity and Grace. He got comfortable in his Sitting Place, cross-legged on the furs - The Golden Sceptre-Mace aloft in his upper-right-hand, The Giant Lotus of Love aloft in his upper-left. Then he looked around at the camera crews. The ones closest to him were fidgety - understandably: it must have felt vulnerable looking up-at-him, knowing that with one swipe of one of his free hands (the lower-right, or the lower-left - with either of those Giant Orange Monkey Lower Hands), he could send the Whole Front Row, with all of their gadgetry, flying to the other-side of The Amphitheatre.

7

HanuHanu had a good-look at the Monkeys beyond The Amphitheatre perimeter. In his gaze I felt him calling the Giant Orange Monkey Tribe towards him. As if, despite, perhaps, Our Expectations of Divinity, he-too felt vulnerable, and was calling-us-close for comfort and support.

Then his Giant Orange Monkey Lips peeled-back and smiled, in such a loving-way as to make everyone and everything (it seemed to me): softer, kinder, cosier. . Even the Mystic Drizzle felt warmer! Then he spoke. I Love his Voice! For me, his voice, that day, as always; was gentle, comforting, raw - and thunderously voluptuous!

8

4

United Nations Sponsorship

gain, by way of background; for The Few of You who might be thinking "What?

A Th e United Nations Commissioned and Sponsored a Lecture Series by a four-armed, five-metre-high Giant Orange Monkey? Come on! You don´t expect me to believe THAT, do you?" Please - let me explain. .

The United Nations Lecture Series Invitation had come-about due to a visit of His Excellency the United Nations Secretary General, Mr Mahatma Mandela-King, to the Giant Orange Monkey Essex Estate, the previous year. As it happened, as things tend-to-happen, Mr Mahatma Mandela-Kingś visit coincided with a Full Moon Celebration

- at which he had loosened his tie-knot, and danced-all-night in Ecstatic Union with All Sorts of Creatures - Deer, Horses and Sheep.

Mr Mahatma Mandela-King had immediately understood - everything! The Dance had explained it all! "We ARE All One, just as The Wise have Always Said!" he´d giggled.

That night he´d laughed-and-cried with HanuHanu, the Giant Orange Monkey Tribe, and the Family of All Creatures, as he´d never laughed-and-cried before! Mr Mahatma Mandela King instantly became a devoted HanuHanu Fan - with all of the over-enthusiasm and excess that the joy of Born-Againness can bring. .

Despite all of our diplomatic attempts to calm him, Mr Mahatma Mandela King - as if manic-depressive and manic, or bipolar and on-an-up - raced-back to his Leather Swivel Desk Chair at the United Nations Headquarters in New York; where, a Man on a Mission, he pressed against-the-odds for the General Assembly to commission, and generously-sponsor, a globally-broadcast HanuHanu Lecture Series.

The odds were against-it - but "hey" he´d say, "when I was a boy - what were the odds I´d become United Nations Secretary General - eh?!" And sure-enough, impelled perhaps by a secret-fascination, against-the-odds indeed, the United Nations General Assembly voted to draft a Letter of Invitation. This was considerately hand-written in Extra Large Letters, on especially enlarged U.N. Headed Notepaper, the size of a dining-room-table. The gesture was appreciated by the Giant Orange Monkeys - even though our vision is such that we can see an Eagle two miles-high, and distinguish the hairs in a flyś moustache.

9

5

A Note on the Nobel Prize

I

nd allow me, please, to offer a little more background - rather than leave a-few-A of -you with another obvious question: "the Nobel Peace Prize? Really? I don´t remember ever hearing about a Giant Orange Monkey being awarded the Nobel Peace Prize! For what, exactly, did HanuHanu receive the Nobel Peace Prize in 2003?"

HanuHanu was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 2003 for his orchestration of interventions which saw near-certainty of war in the Middle East dissolve-overnight.

This was accomplished with the assistance of five of the Tribeś Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys who, using an Advanced Hypnosis Protocol that disables brain synapses that maintain Arbitrary Beliefs, somehow ´persuaded´ the Partners of the Jewish and Islamic Presidents that They Were Each Other - while ´persuading´ the Presidents Themselves, that this was Nothing Out of the Ordinary.

The Two Partners were duly-kidnapped, and installed in Each Otherś homes - where, instinctively, they seemed-to-know what was in Every Cupboard Drawer, where the Light Switches were, and what programmes were on TV. The Presidents Themselves observed nothing untoward. .

That night, though - having, All Four, been éndowed´ with a Love for Each Other, and a Desire for Each Other, and an altogether-new capacity to Not Think as they Made Love - The Jewish and Islamic Presidents Made Love with Each Otherś Partners, and Each Otherś Partners with-them - as none-of-them had ever Made Love Before - as they had Only Dreamt Love could be Made. .

II

And so, yes - it all went rather well. All four parties emerged rosy and refreshed for breakfast - though slightly-subliminally bewildered. But then - as the Advanced Hypnosis Protocol wore-off - All Four began-to-become aware that all was not as-it-usually-was; that their Partners were not who they usually-were; that, in fact, THEY

were not who they usually-were - and that they Had Known a Love that Transcended Individual Identity. And That Love had changed them. It had changed Everything. And so, of course, they Cancelled the War - that very-morning, at around eleven oćlock; when they Appeared Together, The Four of Them, on Middle East TV.

10

The Jewish President announced that, through her intimacy with the Islamic Presidentś Partner - she now felt a bond with every Muslim. And the Islamic President said the same: that she now felt bonded with every Jew. And they embraced, the Four of Them - sincerely - for the Whole Middle East to see, and feel. They Embraced for Longer than Anyone except Lovers Embrace. And their Eyes were Full of Love. And at ten past eleven, to be-exact, Both Presidents Said: "The war is off! So, please, Everyone, Go Home!" "Go Home and Love Each Other!" they suggested, politely, smiling - and Waved to the Middle East.

III

For this intervention (later referred to as The Bonobo Affair), which, as you can imagine, provoked (and still provokes) endless moral debate - HanuHanu was nevertheless awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. He accepted it along with the five Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys who had executed the plan. In his Nobel Laureate acceptance speech, HanuHanu discussed the Transformative Potential latent in the Disactivation of Social Programming passed-hypnotically from generation-to-generation. One example:

"Today you, the People of Egypt, believe-in-and-defend Islam with the same passion that you once believed-in-and-defended Ra, Isis and Osiris. All-of-you, or almost all-of-you, were as Passionately Polytheistic as you now are Monotheistic. I invite you to contemplate-this. And to ask-yourself-this: had I been-a-baby some thousands of years ago, what might I have believed-in-and-defended? Have I chosen my current beliefs?

Or am I simply the Hijacked and Hypnotised Victim of the conditioning of my era, and a specific geographical location?

And what do you conclude? Do you conclude (as I feel is only-logical) that yes - had you been-a-baby at-and-in another place-and-time, you would almost certainly have believed Other Beliefs to be your Own Dear Beliefs; Other Feelings (perhaps quite contrary to the Ones you now Feel), to be your Own Dear Feelings; and Behaviour perhaps-very-different to your Current Behaviour, to be your own freely-chosen Way of Being?

If you do - and yet: there-remains a Group of Humans you dislike, or mistrust - I would like to invite you to Imagine Yourself as having been-born Among Them; and as having grown-up as One of Them. I´d like to invite you to Do This Truly; and observe what-then-happens to your dislike and mistrust - and observe how, after That Imagining, you feel-towards that same Group of Humans."

Because of the logistical complexities-of-travel for an Entourage of five-metre-tall Giant Orange Monkeys, HanuHanu gave his Nobel Laureate acceptance speech at The 11

Giant Orange Monkey Amphitheatre on The Essex Estate. From there, his Potent Presence and Kind Words were beamed from England to Sweden; where - for realismś-

sake, and in Honour of HanuHanu - he appeared-upon A Five metre High Screen in the Stockholm City Hall. .

There, as His Image spoke-further of That Oneness deeper-than Conditioning; the wealthy, elegant, erudite and August Assembly - Already United in their enjoyment of the sublimely-tasteful Nobel Banquet Cuisine - were further-united, when; perhaps due-to their Openness to HanuHanu; or perhaps due-to some further Elite Trickster Warrior Monkey magic - the illustrious banqueters were overcome by a bizarre, mystic Vision of Themselves and Each Other as Babies! It was shocking, as-well-as frequently-amusing, to Behold Other Geniuses pre-conditioned; and yet, somehow, this Seeing seemed to Substantiate HanuHanuś assertions...

12

6

Peace by T-Shirts

hat the Human World doesn´t-know is that HanuHanu was also-behind the WL ongterm Peace that did eventually come to the Middle East. It happened like this. .

In the afternoon of the Day of the Declaration, by the Jewish and Muslim Prime Ministers, of the bond they now-felt with the members of each otherś teams; HanuHanu, satisfied with that short-term result, but aware of its frailty, was chatting with Gooj, when she casually-elaborated, what HanuHanu felt was, an-inspired-plan to fortify this Nigh One Day Old Peace. She called it Project Peace By T-Shirts!

HanuHanu instantly resolved to implement it. .

And so it came to pass, once-upon-a-night, in fact, that-same-night, at about four in the morning, that HanuHanu flew Middle East. At a speed imperceivable by Twenty-First-Century Human Technology, HanuHanu circled the cities, towns and villages of Israel, Syria, Lebanon, Egypt and Jordan. And everywhere he went he let his heart be-called towards A Mother of Dignity. And everywhere he went he touched his Divine Golden Sceptre-Mace paternally upon the forehead of that Mother of Dignity; and let whiffs of his Giant LotusÁroma of Love gently waft about her. Then he went home to the Essex Estate to sleep.

When those Mothers of Dignity arose, and brushed their Jewish and Muslim teeth, and ate their Jewish and Muslim breakfasts, they were all captivated by an idea: to print these words on their T-Shirts: (If they were on the Jewish side) "I am Jewish. I am a Mother. I love my children just as a Muslim Mother loves hers", or (if they were on the Muslim side), "I am Muslim. I am a Mother. I love my children just as a Jewish Mother loves hers".

So irresistible was the Urge to Print, so possessed by a sense of Divine Mission had these Mothers of Dignity become, that office-desks remained vacant that morning, household duties undone, aeroplanes unpiloted, Pilates Classes untaught..

13

It took courage, no doubt, to Wear such Words in-public. And indeed, some Mothers of Dignity, both Jewish and Muslim, were hounded and harassed. But so Possessed by the Obvious were these Mothers of Dignity, so humble and gentle in their protest, so relaxed and unpretentious; that soon hundreds, and then thousands, of Other Mothers, both Muslim and Jewish, had caught The Urge to Print.

Queues hundreds-of-women-long were not uncommon outside Printing Shops throughout the Middle East. Websites promising next-day-delivery on all personalised T-Shirts, both plain and customised, began to overload and crash. What later became known as the T-Shirt Revolution had been born suddenly, when least expected, as-if-prematurely, from the Simplicity of Motherly Love.

Forty-eight hours later, every-other-father on the streets of Tel Aviv, Cairo, Damascus, Amman and Beirut was sporting a T-Shirt similarly breaking all club rules. If they´d been on the Jewish side their T-Shirts read: "I am Jewish. I am a Father. I love my children just as a Muslim Father loves his", or (if they´d been on the Muslim side), "I am Muslim. I am a Father. I love my children just as a Jewish Father loves his".

Next came "I am a Brother", "I am a Sister", "I am a Gender-Fluid Sibling", "I am a Grandparent", and so on. And, of course, there were Jokers on both sides, and out came:

"I am Jewish, I love donuts just as much as Muslims love donuts, especially the ones with jam in"; "I am Muslim, I love to have my back scratched as much as Jews like to have their backs scratched, especially if The Scratcher has long nails", and so on.

According to Professor Koshofu, for whom this whole proliferation was a prime example of The Hundred Human Effect1, and who was monitoring its unravelling with a slightly-loony enthusiasm, the Tipping Point came when High Ranking Military Officers, both Muslim and Jewish, ´Donned The T-Shirt´. (That was the phrase people had come-up-with to describe that moment, when an individual Let Go of their Team Allegiance - and made their Own Unique Commitment to The Human Family.) As the T-Shirt Revolution swirled through Middle Eastern Minds like a sandstorm, T-Shirt DonnersĆlubs appeared everywhere - like new dunes. Jewish and Muslim Mothers for Peace organised all sorts of Motherly Events - like Breast Feeding Competitions, which were judged according to the volume of their babiesćontented gurgling. Two top Football Teams, one Jewish, one Muslim, all having Donned The T-Shirt, shocked the whole Middle East by Playing for Fun. And there were T-Shirt Club Parties where everyone left their Identity at the Door, and degraded themselves together so generously, and so impartially, they could hardly remember having ever not-been part-of the One Human Family.

14

And so it was that, once-upon-a-time, little-by-little, moment of courage by moment of courage, T-Shirt by T-Shirt, moment of heart-to-heart connection by moment of heart-to-heart connection, T-Shirt Club by T-Shirt Club, that the Middle East was Overwhelmed by The Obvious - and returned from the Distress of Forgetfulness and Division, to the relief-and-peace and happiness of All, once-again, Belonging to the One Human Family. .

Notes

1. Iĺl say more later. The Professor has written many papers on this, and related behaviour patterns. See, for example, ´The Zillion Ant Effect´, and ´The One Donkey Effect´.

15

7

Lecture 1: Human Superiority

I

nd so. . back to the Estate. Back to the Lecture. And back to HanuHanuś voice A - the gentlest of thunder; rumbling.. rippling.. through my whole-being..

As I listened, time-vanished. The Taste of his Voice filled-me with pleasure! I felt the Tree Community listening, enthralled; the Bird Flocks listening, enraptured; the Insect Commonwealth listening, enchanted. . as if his voice were The Only Sound - powerful, caressing. .

The seasonless English Autumn Drizzle seemed-to-me to make-love with the air, as it floated-down. I felt everywhere full-of-quiet. The Humans in the Amphitheatre were transfixed. The Trees smiled. The Birds laughed. The Insects played. The Giant Orange Monkeys amused themselves.

HanuHanu had hit the screens (we later found out), of one-billion Human Beings around-the-globe. Big screens in public places, and small screens in human hands; screens at bars and clubs; screens at hippy communes, and screens at secret government locations.. HanuHanu was addressing a sizeable-chunk of the Human Family of Planet Earth. .

His first words were "Hello, Little Cousins! Yes! When we talk about you, we refer to you like that, with great affection - as our Little Cousins! We do! We feel bonded with you, in a Primal Primate Proximity - we do! Within the Family of All Creatures - we hold you Especially Close; and Especially Dear. .

Then he was quiet; letting his worldwide Human Audience absorb-the-impact of seeing him - of beholding a Five metre High, Four Armed, Giant Orange Monkey with a Golden Sceptre-Mace, and a Pastel Pink Giant Lotus regularly letting-off Puffs of Love - little clouds of inexplicable contentment and ease.

"Little Cousins" he continued, almost shyly, "thank you for being interested in what I have to say. I so-hope the Observations of an Outside Eye upon the Human Family will prove-useful to you. The United Nations has asked for my śocial, ecological and spiritual counsel´ - given that, by your-own-admission, your current Human Way of 16

Being has disrupted Life and Death on Earth - to the point that our mutual mammalian Survival is now Unsure.

Perhaps some-of-you - and some of The Rest of Us - will survive the Climatic and Political Consequences of your current Way of Being. I don´t know. But I have chosen to accept this United Nations Invitation as an Opportunity to let-you-know-about Another Way of Being. Yes, it is the Giant Orange Monkey Way, but it is the Way of the Family of All Creatures. It is A Way of Being that I believe would most-certainly help you pass-gracefully through the Calamities to Come; but that, above all, I believe could Serve Your Survivors in being-human differently - so as not to, one-day, re-arrive Where you are Now.

The Way of Being I want to share with you has been the Way of the Giant Orange Monkeys for thousands-of-thousands of years. It is the Way of Being of the Lineage of Srí Hanumanji Himself. And I have heard-it-spoken thousands-of-times; from thousands of very-different bodies - by the Children and Grown Ups and Elders of Every Species. So although I will be Speaking in the Style of HanuHanu (how could I not?); I would like you to-know that, in-my-heart, I feel I am sharing - not my Own Vision and Understanding, but the Vision and Understanding of the Family of All Creatures. .

II

I have many times asked myself "how can any Species counsel another? In fact - how can any Creature counsel Another? Does Anyone ever-know, with certainty, what Another Creature needs? How dare I then Give Counsel?! And yet every-cell-of-me Feels Called to Speak to you, Little Cousins!

There is an Old Fable - part of a Collection of Fables - told in the Stone Age Annals of the Giant Orange Monkey Tribe of the Deserts of North Africa - a story of a Kind and Loving Giant Basilasaurus Whale, a lone-survivor from the Paleogene Period, who felt-lonely, and who longed-to-love someone.

Once, so the Fable goes, once-upon a sunny stone-age summer, in the beating stone-age midday-heat, as the Basilasaurus bathed-lazily in the stone-age sea; it noticed a Giant Orange Monkey Boy running full-tilt along the beach - being-chased by a Pack of Rabid Mammoths. The Kind and Loving Basilasaurus took pity on the Giant Orange Monkey Boy, and - at great risk-to-itself - hurled its whole-body through the air, and saved the Giant Orange Monkey Boy from the Rabid Mammoths by swallowing him -

down to its stomach, where, unlike Jonah or Pinocchio, he suffocated - and became Part Of the Kind, Lonely and Brave Basilasaurus. I do hope I am not like that Well Meaning Basilasaurus!

17

So please forgive my audacity, Little Cousins! But I so long-to-see your Family Joyful -

like the Rest of Us! Please know that in-my-heart, as the Poetess Besheesha put it, "I want for you, as I want for me"1. . My hope is that some of those of you-who-survive, if any-of-you do, will Be Moved by my Words; and share them with your Children, and your Grandchildren and Great Great Grandchildren. . Little Cousins, I want to Speak to you about Being on Planet Earth in a-way that, rather than causing disruption, finds you standing and celebrating with the Rest of Us - the Family of All Creatures - in the glorious, savage, tender Bliss of Our Oneness!

I have long-contemplated the Words I would Speak today. And I believe they are both Key, and A Key. Key, in the sense that they are fundamental. And A Key, in the sense that there are many Escape Exits through-which the Human Family could snap-out of its Destructive Isolation - and I believe My Words Today open one such Exit. Upon this particular Exit Door, as upon-a-door in a Magic Theatre, are written-the-words:

´Human Superiority´. Snap-out of that, and you will Cry Joy, Little Cousins! And it IS

possible, Little Cousins! In My Eyeś Dreaming I already see some-of-you Snapped Out of the Trance of your current, learnt, unnatural, habitual Way of Being: crying-happiness as everything Regains Meaning; crying-relief as the Illusion of Pressure slips-away; crying-contentment as the Heart fills-again; crying-gratitude; crying for-no-reason. .

My dearmost, magnificent, imaginative, dislocated, runaway Little Human Cousins -

today I want to invite you back! I want to invite you to relocate-back into the Family of All Creatures! Because then, Little Cousins, little-by-little, I believe - the Lifeblood will return to your Souls; and you will become a Blissful, rather-than a Belligerent, Human Presence on this Earth.

III

And so, here, today, with, I hope, not too-much-pride; despite my moral reticence; in trust of my cellular-impulse; and feeling deeply-touched to-be-honoured by this Opportunity to Speak to the Human Family - I, HanuHanu, of the Lineage of Srí Hanumanji; Son of Ayli the Ordinary; Bearer of the Sceptre-Mace of Radiant Power, and the Giant Love Lotus of Unbearable Beauty; Child of the Magic of Creation; an Equal Among Equals among the Giant Orange Monkeys of the Earth, the Milky Way and All Galaxies; an Equal Among Equals among All Creatures, and among All that Exists - after many Decades of Waiting to-be-called; by-invitation and not-by-imposition, offer you My Counsel. Which begins with a Loving Challenge. ."

HanuHanu paused, letting their nervousness settle - then continued.. "Dear Little Cousins. . Looking at me, now - possessed, as I am, by an intelligence that is off-the-scale of all Human IQ tests; looking at me now - gifted, as I am, with a strength of 18

such-a-different-nature to your own, that not all of Humanityś Nuclear Power Combined could make a scratch upon it; looking at me now - rested, as I am, in the Bliss of Interconnection with All of Existence, that is perhaps every Human Beingś innermost-longing. . Looking at me, now, I invite you, Beloved Little Cousins: please -

Let Go of your-idea of-yourselves as the Most Evolved, and therefore Superior Species on Planet Earth. .

I am inviting you to Let Go, not just intellectually, but experientially; to breathe, and FEEL what-it-might-feel-like to step-down, off of your Imaginary Pedestal, and Land on Earth, and be-surrounded-by All Sorts of Creatures - and FEEL Yourself An Equal.

This is a big Letting Go, Little Cousins, I know. I would understand if you found-it-unsettling. Where does it leave you? If you are not on-top, where are you? If Your Terms aren´t The Terms - how do you even begin to evaluate such a question?"

HanuHanu was quiet. (To me), the Humans in The Amphitheatre DID seem unnerved.

Some were looking around as-if-now (having momentarily relinquished the Mindset of Superiority), Wild Lions and Tigers and Big Beasts of All Sorts would come bounding over The Amphitheatre perimeter, and land upon their heads - even though, of course, logically, they all knew there were few, if any, Lions, Tigers, or Big Beasts of Any Sort in contemporary Essex, England.

HanuHanu was quiet for a-long-time, looking-straight at the cameras. I felt he was looking-into the Human Core, and letting Humanity look-deeply Into Him. It was as-if his Smiling Eyes were Saying "I know you know. You might deny it to-yourself, but I know you do immediately-recognise that The Concept of Human Superiority was Always a Lie. But I believe you also-know that With any Letting Go of any Lie - there comes the pain (not only the joy) of Returning to oneś Integrity, and of deconstructing-and-reconstructing how one Does Everything. I know you know, because - well, letś be honest, itś obvious! Is it not?! So although I am speaking to Continents of Human Nations, I believe the-crucial-question is excruciatingly personal. . I believe it is this: will you - whatever your government, your media, your neighbours, your religion, or even your family, may-or-may-not choose - will you, personally, individually, choose to go-through the pain (and the joy); or will you balk, and back-down, and hide-behind, and further-defend the Lie?

Yes, I sense you already-intuit that Letting Go of this One Simple Little Idea pulls-out-the-carpet from under the Whole of Human Civilisation! Like a hunter with his rifle underarm, his heel on-the-head of his prey; glorying in his violence, reeking of pride; self-appointed, self-annointed - Human Civilisation revels, intoxicated, numb, in Human Superiority. Are you - you, personally, Little Cousin - are you willing to walk-through your own pain and shame? And are you willing to let the hunter tumble, and this Human Civilisation crumble - before it Kills Us All?"

19

IV

Eventually, in a perhaps more-intellectual tone, HanuHanu spoke-aloud again. . "Dear Cousins, if we can be truly-logical together, I would like to suggest that You Admit that to select any Scale of Values as The One by which to hierarchise-species in terms of their being more-or-less-evolved, is to make a purely random, arbitrary choice - that any Scale of Values we selected would be no-more-than-one of possibly-millions, perhaps-infinite Scales of Value by which evolution could be measured and judged. For Humans to, in all seriousness, assess evolution, as you do, in terms of what you value most - intelligence, complexity, and so on, is as absurd, and (forgive me, Little Cousins), as frankly laughably-foolish as it-would-be should an Elephant preach that Trunk Length was the yardstick by which to measure evolution, or a Dog make-the-case for Bladder Control. Please excuse my bluntness.

And we could take-logic further - because even your Idealisation of Intelligence is inaccurate, or biased, in itself. It is actually the preferencing of Human-Type Intelligence. Scientific Observation reveals that Every Species has its Intelligence - does it not? The electromagnetic Intelligence of the Birds and Bees; the echo-locational, sound-mapping Intelligence of the Bats; the colour-sensitive Intelligence of the Chameleons. . What makes your-kind-of Intelligence better, or more-evolved, than theirs?

My invitation to you is to Let Go of any attempt to hierarchise evolution - to recognise that the Beetle is more evolved in some ways, the Horse in others, the Snake in yet others, and so on-and-on. You are more evolved in the ways Humans are more evolved.

But those Human Ways are not the Absolute Standard by which to measure Evolution Itself.

I invite you to consider yourselves Human Animals; Animals among other Animals, like me, like the Squirrels and the Kangaroos. No better, no worse. Not superior, not inferior. One-more unlikely, marvellous Species within the Kaleidoscopic Pantheon of unlikely, marvellous Species! I am just proposing, for now, that you ćonsiderĹittle Cousins - that you consider, that you imagine. . Don´t worry about How to Become an Animal Again. Iĺl talk about that, I hope, next time - so that those of you who so-desire; should you so-decide; can go-beyond todayś ćonsidering´ - into actually exploring-the-experience of Equality with Everything Else that Experiences.

I believe that Letting Go of Human Superiority, little-by-little, will return you to the Truth of your Humanity - the biological-fact of your existence as Animals Among Animals; as humanoid beasts, here, among the fish and birds, the trees and the minerals, the thunder and the lightning. .

20

The United Nations has asked for my śocial, ecological and spiritual counsel´. I see this Letting Go of Human Superiority as fundamental, as the Foundation Stone of my Counsel. And I believe, with All My Heart, that if you DO choose to be-logical; and allow the Superiority Mindset to release its grip-upon-you; and let your Human Ego deflate; and become as Ordinary and Miraculous as Any Other Creature - that a new sense of pleasure will open-up to you, magically - like a blessing. . Yes, Little Cousins, I believe that! And I want that for you! I believe The Sweetness of Embeddedness within-a-world that eats and breathes and shits and feels, and stretches and runs and flies and slithers - will begin-to Seduce you Irresistibly from-within!

To look-out in Absolute Equality; to look-upon all Other Species as Family; to observe the Wonder of Each Species following its Own Nature, is, for me - and I expect will be for-you-too, if you choose to be-logical with yourselves, Little Cousins - both exquisite and ecstatic! I look-out upon Us All, feeling that I will perhaps never know from-the-inside what itś like to-be a Sparrow, or a Frog. . Not like a Sparrow knows what-it-feels-like To Be a Sparrow. Not like a Frog knows what-it-feels-like To Be a Frog. I look out upon Us All - each Species in its Own Flowing-Moment Experience - and I am Dumbstruck in Eden!"

V

The words ´Dumbstruck in Edenśeemed to amuse HanuHanu no-end. And he has a very Contagious Chuckle! While his two upper-arms remained relaxed, yet as stiff and muscular as iron; his two lower-arms slapped his knees. His chuckle became outright laughter, and then a roar. His knees got a good beating!

Playfulness seemed to overtake the Divine Giant Monkey! He caricatured someone trying to get-serious-again; then, looking at his Audience - knowing full-well they were not just the Humans in The Amphitheatre, but Humans Everywhere - he started to chuckle again, to gradually escalate it through outright-laughter again, and to-crescendo in that rumbling HanuHanu Love Roar! This he repeated in waves. For a good ten minutes. He was clearly enjoying himself! And (as we later found out), so were many, many Humans: they were giggling in Beijing, and guffawing in Kansas; they were rolling on-the-floor in Moscow, and belly-aching in Lagos...

HanuHanuś Laugh was not-at-but-with the Human Family. It was a Laugh of Compassion, a Laugh that (if it had eyes and could speak), would wink and tease: "Look at us! The Creatures of the World! We are One! And yet some Species forget, sometimes, don´t they, Little Cousins?!" And as it said this (if it had fingers), the Laugh would tickle Humans the way Loving Parents tickle their cubs and children and chicks.

It was a Laugh inviting Humans to see-through themselves; to see the conditioned Way 21

they See, and therefore not be-so-sure about What they See. It was a Laugh inviting Humans to hop-back-in, there-and-then - into the Family of All Existence.

HanuHanuś Laugh sparkled, enticing, singing: "Just Catch My Eye for a Moment, and together letś look-right-through this Human Charade! Just Catch My Eye for a Moment, and letś taste-together the sweetness of Life on the Other Side!"

Eventually, he brought the laughter gently to shore, and the Lecture gently to a close:

"and so we have come to the end of todayś Lecture, Little Cousins. You can download it as a Podcast at the Official United Nations HanuHanu Lecture Series Site, and listen to it again, if you want. I would recommend that..

Here, today, I, HanuHanu, of the Lineage of Srí Hanumanji and his Beloved Ladyboy Gaia; Son of Ayli the Chosen; Child of the Magic of Creation; give thanks for this opportunity to address the Human Family so directly. I give thanks to the Giant Orange Monkey Ancestors whose words I have endeavoured-to-echo. I give thanks to the Children and Grown Ups and Elders of Every Species - whose words I have endeavoured-to-echo. I give thanks to that Which is Unspeakable, and that Which Cannot Speak. I give thanks to His Excellency the United Nations Secretary General, Mr Mahatma Mandela-King for his invitation. I give thanks to the camera crews and translators here on The Estate for sending-out these words into the Collective Mind of Humanity, and I give thanks to all of the Giant Orange Monkeys who set-up the Amphitheatre for todayś Lecture. Above all, I give thanks to every Human Being who has paused-today to listen to me, and to Consider my Words. Thank you All."

HanuHanuś great torso inclined, in a bow of respect, towards his Human Audience. I thought it was over, but then his eyes opened brightly, he smiled enormously, and he said:

"And my dear, complicated, confused, thinking-thinking-thinking Little Cousins - if you consider all of this; and start-looking at your Daily Reality through-it; and feeling your Daily Reality through-it; and your brains begin to rearrange-themselves (as surely they will). . And you find yourselves Actually Letting Go into Belonging to the Family of All Creatures; and it so-happens that you find a happy-spring has come to your step; and your friends ask "whatś happened to you?!" just say - "HanuHanu put me in my place!"

Then, smiling wryly, HanuHanu indicated to the Camera Crews, that it was time to go. And they packed-up, and went - while HanuHanu himself stayed on, and slept there that night, in The Amphitheatre, beneath the Sweet Chestnut.

22

Notes

1. This is the poem that HanuHanu was referring-to - a poem written, as HanuHanu said, by the tranquil, breeze-like Poetess Besheesha - my Mother. .

TODAY

A Love Poem For Our Little Cousins

I

I look like a Giant Orange Monkey;

you look like a Human - so what?!

I want for you, as I want for me -

that when our bodies are yellow and waxy and ready

to be returned to the earth,

our blood to the cold oceans,

and our breath to the sky from whence it came -

I want for us both,

I want for us BOTH -

that our hearts break

like seedpods snapping in the heat -

sobbing with the joy and honour

of having felt this worldś beauty heat our blood -

of having flickered a while in its shimmering mystery -

its innocence, its savagery, its splendour.

I want for us

that our hearts-break because we have let this world

stroke our hair,

and our thin skins,

and hear our worries,

and delight in our idiosyncrasies -

and bow before our beauty,

and our mystery.

I want for you, as I want for me,

that when we suddenly stop breathing,

we be surrendered and scattered like seed to the wind -

and our loving be everywhere.

23

II

But why wait?!

I want for you, as I want for me – today!

Today, while our flesh is warm,

our blood in motion,

and the air breathing through us. .

I want for us – today

that our hearts break

as we put on this morning,

as we walk about wearing this afternoon,

and as we let this evening undress us -

and hold us tight at the waist,

and penetrate us,

and whisper praises

of our inexplicable wonderfulness.

I want for us our hearts break because

our love affair with today is so carnal -

and because yesterday was today

so recently. .

24

8

How We Got to Essex

I

feel I should answer another question that A Few of You might be asking: "how did a Tribe of five-metre-high Giant Orange Monkeys come-to-reside on a British I

Country Estate?!"

Well - we arrived here in 1946, just after the so-called Second World War. In actual fact, it was only a War Among Humans - but letś not press-the-point. Throughout that typical, periodic resurgence of Extreme Tightness in the Human Psyche, it was rumoured that deep in the South American Jungles there was a City Made Entirely of Plastic - a magical, mythological city harbouring secrets that could, perhaps, help Win Wars.

But how could So Much Plastic have accumulated there? Had it been carried by rivers, or by storms, or by some unrecognised plasto-magnetic force? No Human knew. And if it did exist: who had glued, and stapled, and sewn the plastic together - into the Temples and Homes and Plazas of a City? One man, the intrepid explorer, Professor Indiana Jones - later to become an associate and friend of that most affectionate and erudite Giant Orange Monkey, Professor Koshofu - was Sent to Investigate.

What he eventually found, after many heroic adventures, was not a Lost City, but a gargantuan Reconfiguration Facility, in full-swing under the competent-supervision of a Tribe of Giant Orange Monkeys - HanuHanu among-them. Reconfiguration is much better than Recycling. Reconfiguration is the molecular meltdown, and organic reconstruction, of synthetic matter. Lethal plastic was being reconfigured as organic material. Plastic was being turned into worms and trees and tigers. Professor Indiana Jonesíndigenous guides believed the Giant Orange Monkeys to be Magicians from the Stars. Which they weren´t. Well, not any more than Every Creature Is. They were just more intelligent and caring.

Professor Jones rowed-back along Jungle Rivers; jumped-onto an Ocean Cruiser; then into a Train; then into a Taxi - and eventually stormed-into The San Francisco Opera House on 25th April 1945, where (the ´World War´ being officially-over), the United Nations Charter was being-adopted. Professor Jones rushed, flustered, down the central aisle; waving his notes at the assembly; raving about Reconfiguration and Giant Orange Monkeys. He was escorted to the Street Door.

25

II

Meanwhile, that night, Hanuman Himself came to HanuHanu in his sleep - and whispered "Child of the Robust Ayli, my Beloved HanuHanu - your destiny is to Participate in The Great Might-Or-Might-Not Prophecy - known, therefore, to the Giant Orange Monkey Sages of Old as The Great Mi-O-Mi-No Prophecy. You are my Direct Descendent, HanuHanu, Child. I am in you. You must be a Spokesmonkey now, a Spokesmonkey for the Family of Life. Situate yourself, and those who go- with-you, at the Heart of the Human World - and wait. The Human with a kind-eye-and-a-smirk will Return from Afar, and hear-the-call of this New Tribe to come-forth to its destiny

- and help you get there. You will become the Fifth Giant Orange Monkey Tribe of Earth, the HanuHanu Tribe. Your destiny shall be to-try-to Save Humanity from Itself.

And to-try-to save Everything, and Everyone Else, from Humanity.

The outcome is not assured, My Dear Child. For As It Was Written upon the most-ancient scrolls of The Collected Annals of the Giant Orange Monkey Tribes of Planet Earth: "One Day a Direct Descendent of Srí Hanumanji Himself might save Humanity from Itself, and Life from Humanity; or One Day, that same Direct Descent of Srí Hanumanji Himself, might not. For so it is Prophesied. And So it was Spoken, before Time could Speak. And So it was Written, eventually." Kissing his Sleeping Son upon-his-brow, the Great Srí Hanumanji, Protector of the Earth - less prophetically, but more intimately - whispered "Give it your best shot, Son!"; and slipped quietly-out of his dream. .

And so indeed it did Come To Pass. . Professor Jones, kind-eyed and smirking; having been branded a charlatan, if not a madman, determined to redeem his reputation, returned with a troop of specialist scientists, guides and journalists - and re-established contact with The Giant Orange Monkey Reconfigurators.

In the Teamś Tents that evening, the jungle screaming all-around-them, the Humans acknowledged directly to Professor Jones that he was Not Mad. They had seen it for-themselves: Giant Orange Monkeys operating a massive Plastic Recycling (or as Professor Jones insisted, Ŕeconfiguration´) Facility - in the Middle of the Jungle! Yes, it was improbable; but So was Existence.

HanuHanu invited the Professor and his Team to dine with the Giant Orange Monkeys. It-was-then that he told them about the Mi-O-Mi-No Prophecy of the Hanuman Lineage - a prophecy to-which He, HanuHanu, had been Called to Contribute. A Call with-which he felt Compelled to Comply. "We need a place within Human Society, from which to speak to the Human Species" HanuHanu announced, matter-of-factly.

26

And so, to cut a long story short: Professor Jones; this time accompanied-by, and backed-up-by, his Team of scientist-adventurers - was taken seriously. He became the Liaison Point for communication with the Giant Orange Monkeys - and eventually, thirty-or-forty Giant Orange Monkeys sailed-forth, on a Very Big Boat; from the Mythic City of Plastic, to the Essex Countryside.

And here we have remained, with an only-subtly fluctuating population, for over seventy years. I myself was born not-long-after our arrival here.. Over the years, long before the Lecture Series, Giant Orange Monkeys would repeatedly ask HanuHanu about The Prophecy: when would it begin, or if it had already-begun - or if Anything had a Beginning, really. "I don´t know" he´d always say, "everything will Happen at the Time of Happening!". But when the United Nations Lecture Series Invitation arrived, HanuHanu intuitively immediately-knew, The Time was Then.

27

9

Genital Barometer

et me tell you some more about us, about the Essex Estate (European) Giant L Orange Monkey Tribe - by-far the youngest of The Five Tribes.. Well, let me tell you a little more about me! And about Gooj.. And perhaps about ShunShunShoola. .but-first, let me tell you something-about me!

From the-first-day I sat to HanuHanuś right; thatś to say, from the moment I accepted my appointment as Tribe Scribe; HanuHanu insisted my Double Genitals be on-full-show at all Giant Orange Monkey Gatherings.

Not at Gatherings with Human Beings, I might add. There I was to observe the same etiquette as every-other Giant Orange Monkey: in the presence of Human Beings we curl-up our tuft-tipped tails between our legs, and shade our genitals, fig-like, from Human View - aware of Humanityś tendency to Genitalial Fixation, and not wishing to create unnecessary distraction.1

But at our Tribe Ceremonies, or at Gatherings with Other Tribes, or in the presence of Most Honoured Guests, I was to sit in such-a-way that I be fully genitally visible -

because, he said, my genitals were an Energy Barometer! He said my genitalsŕesponses to the atmospheres and energy-fields of the world were trustworthy and reliable, and should be visible to all!

I don´t know how true this is. I couldn´t say. All I know is I sit in the cosy exquisiteness of my blindness, and between my legs I can feel - like underwater-plants dancing in invisible-ocean-currents - both my penis-and-testicles and my vagina, ever-dancing in Invisible Energies. .

So whether at a supposed-to-be light-hearted Celebration, or a supposed-to-be sober Conference, my penis erects, and my vagina wettens, in response to the surrounding energy-climate. Not to whatś being-said; nor to how Any Monkey, or Anyone, even I, might want things-to-be - but to their Feel of the Entire Elemental Moment.

For example, if HanuHanu is dialoguing in Deep Intimacy with a Group of Giant Orange Monkeys, and everyone is nested-in that Deep Intimacy - if weŕe all-in-it-together - then my penis will almost-certainly be boldly erect. Or if, say, there is hostility in the air, then my vagina will almost-certainly curl inwards and get-tight.

28

Thatś why HanuHanu calls my Double Genitals his trustworthy Energy Barometer!

He says they are Great Teachers. He says they teach (1) that the energy of the world is always in flux, (2) that we are not in control of the energy flux of the world, and (3) that it is possible to flow with that flux.

A few-years-ago, when we were Hosting the Annual Five Tribes Summer Solstice Celebrations, here at the Estate - HanuHanu was sharing some Words of Welcome. I was seated to his right, Gooj to his left, and in front of two hundred and fifty Giant Orange Monkeys - my penis began to go up-and-down, up-and-down - like Christians at Church! Nobody was listening to HanuHanu anymore! I could feel-it: all eyes were upon my penis! HanuHanu stopped talking. I felt his gaze also-shift towards my penis.

He began to laugh. And then to roar - and roll around! "Thank you for your salutations to Lord Surya, God of Summer, God of Heat and Light!" he rolled-and-roared, "I need say no more! They are the perfect way to inaugurate these Solstice Celebrations!

Notes

1. This was how HanuHanu gave The United Nations Lectures. . with his glorious and graceful, tree-swinging tail tucked, discretely-forwards beneath his testicles - the pom-pom at-the-end of it, obscuring his Giant Orange Monkey Genitals from Humanityś intense and contradictory gaze.

29

10

Gooj

I

ho is Gooj? Gooj is also descended from Gods and Goddesses with-gender-and-Wwit hout - like HanuHanu and me. She is a Direct Descendent of the Infinite Archetypal Trickster, known by different names in different cultures - Heyoka, Loki, Bamapana, and so on. She refers to herself as Princess Gooj. She is the HanuHanu Tribeś most-honoured Buffoon. Although a Shapeshifter capable of looking-like a cat, a pebble, a Human or a kettle - Gooj maintains a ´default appearance´ - as the fattest Giant Orange Monkey on Earth! Sheś over two metres round!

Goojś idiosyncrasy is hats. She loves hats. She has thousands - and risk the rage of her Whole Lineage upon you, if you so much as touch one! But in truth, for Gooj, only Love, and Loveś Concerns, are matters of serious consequence. Everything else is fair game for her ridicule - even her own hats!

HanuHanu and I both seem to find the situations she creates hilarious. But she does enjoy a mess! Once upon-time, HanuHanu was in a questions-and-answers-session at The Amphitheatre with the World Leadership of the P.A.S.A. (the Post-Apocalypse Survival Association). The usual subjects were bubbling up and down: the need to have an independent water source, the need to be able to generate oneś own energy, eco-construction, chickens, neighbourhood sharing schemes, digging-up roads and planting orchards, and so on - when Gooj, shaking her Divine Rattle passionately, mumbling spiritual-sounding Mumbo Jumbo she was ´making up as she was going along´, and wearing, of course, her latest sombrero - a bit like a Chinese Pagoda, with feathers on top - jumped up in front of HanuHanu and, centre-stage, Called for Silence..

In a voice thick with martyrdom, she announced that her Need for Honesty and Transparency was impelling-her to reveal to the Human World that HanuHanu and Elon Musk were in behind-closed-doors, top-secret dialogue - about Creating an extraterrestrial Colony, especially for the Giant Orange Monkeys. This was a complete fabrication. HanuHanu and Elon had talked about many things, but not that.

There was outrage, of course, among the World Leadership of the Post-Apocalypse Survival Association. They heckled HanuHanu. "Coward!" "Traitor!" As HanuHanu smiled-in-disbelief; and I sat eager to listen-and-feel this unfold; Gooj, who spoke like 30

an off-key opera singer, chimed-on about HanuHanu being sworn to secrecy - and how, therefore, there was no-point in questioning him. . But that, she, Princess Gooj, believed All Human Resources should be directed to ensuring the Human Familyś survival Here-on-Earth! Not to abandoning ship! Not to abandoning Spaceship Planet Earth! "Yes! Yes! Yes!" cheered the P.A.S.A. Leadership.

HanuHanu eventually managed to convince them, that all He and Elon had talked about was International Badminton, and Physics. And HanuHanuś Love of the Earth was beyond-doubt. It glowed-inside his every gesture and expression. He lived in-it.

They could feel it. It was not a Love he could Abandon. Nevertheless, that-day, Gooj planted a seed of doubt deep in the heart of the P.A.S.A. - and the Leadership who, until then, had requested regular audiences with HanuHanu, ceased to come..

II

For the better? For the worse? Who knows?! Gooj is unpredictable - you never know when, and you never know why. But I think sheś a bit like my genitals - an Energy Barometer of another kind! I wasn´t surprised by her that-time, though. During the P.A.S.A Leadershipś prior visits to the Estate, her irritation had been blatant. She had poked-fun at them in random jingles, like "four arms aren´t better than two, hey hey; sometimes they get in the way, hey hey!, and "high isn´t higher than low, ho ho; ćos sometimes you hit your head, ho ho!" It was their dribbling adulation of HanuHanu she couldn´t-stand.

And Gooj is not tolerant. And, for her, it especially reeks of absurdity if you´ve heard HanuHanu, a dozen times-before, insisting over-and-again, that the foundation-stone for Sanity in the Human Family is Staying in Oneś Own Experience - which-is to live-and-die in Equality; which-is to Look Out from the Centre of oneś Own Experience -

and Not Locate the Centre of oneś Experience in another - even if that Other looks like a Monkey God, or Demigod, or feels somehow Divine.. For Gooj, we are all just different shapes and sizes and genders of Gods. For Princess Gooj, Equality is paramount.

In fact, all Giant Orange Monkeys feel that way. But Gooj expresses - dramatically!

And she makes no apology for her dramas! She thinks-and-feels what she thinks-and-feels, and then lets her Psychomagical Buffoonery express through her. She does not equate Being Awake to the Wonder of Existence, with Necessarily being Nice: When Humans are obsequious she starts bowing-down to them. When Humans go spiritually-bleary-starry-eyed in front of HanuHanu, she falls at their knees - and asks for their Human Hand in marriage! Or sometimes, she asks them to become her Guru!

And when Humans write-and-write-and-write while HanuHanu speaks, she calls-out 31

gibberish-grammatical advice, like "I before E, except after C; unless there is an invisible C, in which case the I goes after the E.. But pay attention: when there is neither a C, nor not-a-C; or when a C and not-a-C occur simultaneously - then the I and the E can go wherever you like!"

And Gooj, I am almost-certain, is not opposed to the P.A.S.A.ś aims.. I have heard her sing Operas to Urine-Diverting Toilets and Humanure; I have heard her sing Hymns to Permaculture (and Allotments in general); I have heard her sing Christmas Carols for Water without Chlorine; I have heard her chant Anthems to Degradability and No-Waste; I have heard her intone Mantras to Wild Food and Wild Medicine; to Seed Banks and Reforestation; to Survival Skills and Going Off-Grid - in fact, to all the P.A.S.A. Leadership stand-for!

Thatś why I say I feel I know the Psychomagical Situation she created, with her fabrication of HanuHanuś collusion to go Off-Planet with Elon, was not directed against their aims - but addressed to their mentality. After all, mind precedes action -

so mentality is primary. So thatś what I feel: that Gooj Felt she was tricking the P.A.S.A. Leadership back into finding-itself - so that self-respect and self-love would underpin its activism; and not uncritical adherence to the Perspective of Another -

even if that Other was HanuHanu!

Princess Gooj! She is either purring contentedly - luxuriating in her Own Brand of Tantric Eroticism - or on-the-rampage with her Hats, and Divine Rattle full of dry-chickpeas.

She is a devilish strategist, and the Mentor of the Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys.

32

11

Estate Security

o much happened after the First Lecture - I don´t know where to begin! We learnt, as I said before, that around a billion Human Beings had Listened Live to S

HanuHanuś first Lecture. And the Podcast of the Lecture was incredibly popular too. .

To-that-date, there had been approximately a billion downloads! Lecture One had been received so positively that when Sobli - the Giant Orange Monkey artisan specialised in Ephemeral Art, particularly Jewellery, who handles Estate PR - came to tell HanuHanu about the unimagined-scale, and astonishingly-welcoming nature, of the Human Response; she erupted in Happy Tears!

We also came Under Psychic Attack.

I imagine some of you have already been wondering about Security at The Estate. The short answer is this: it is protected by ShunShunShoola. ShunShunShoola is a Living Energy Membrane arched, dome-like, over the whole Estate, who doesn´t impact the physical climate, but who absorbs, and then spits out, even the subtlest Vibratory Aggression.

The way it works is this: if, for example, a camera crew arrives at the Estate Gates, and one of its members feels disdain towards the Giant Orange Monkey Tribe, somehow, by some strange magic, that Human will not be able to cross the threshold into The Estate. If they insist nonetheless, they will feel as if they are walking into a wind that is stronger than they are, and they will find themselves thrown backwards, down to the ground. ShunShunShoola, and thus The Estate, is impenetrable by Ill Will.

Of course every Human has their Ill Will Moments. After all, you are, as Mr Smith said to Mr Anderson, "Only Human". ShunShunShoola tolerates that. The Ill Will it repels is premeditated, deliberate, and sharp. And it spits it back at the exact same velocity it receives it. Back, that is, at the protagonist!

It didn´t take Human Beings long to understand this. . Initially, when HanuHanu and the first Giant Orange Monkeys arrived at The Estate, grenades were tossed over the Estate Walls. But they would explode wherever they had been-thrown-from. Bullets were fired. But they would kill whoever had pulled the trigger.

There was even a plan to kidnap several Giant Orange Monkeys for experimental, laboratory research. Twelve military helicopters had entered the airspace above The 33

Estate - only to be sucked-in and spat-out by ShunShunShoola - exploding in the Military Facilities from which they´d been launched. It was not a pleasant affair. For us, it was extremely painful. But clear. All physical attacks have long-since-ceased.

In fact, nowadays, Air Traffic Control at Gatwick, Heathrow, City, Stanstead, Luton and Southend airports, as well as at various London Heliports and the smaller Essex Airfields at Duxford, Wethersfield, Colchester, and so on, are all so vigilant about steering aviation around the Giant Monkey Estate, that Red Alert activates automatically if anything airborne comes within ten miles of Estate Airspace.

The Estate has been secure since, perhaps, two or three years after we arrived in the late 1940ś. And still is. But since HanuHanuś first Lecture, running alongside all of the hope and joy, there has also been another global response. A new Collective Aggression. It might be summed up, in its own vocabulary, as "Kill the Fucking Monkeys! Who the Fuck do they Think they Are?! Who the Fuck do they Think they are to Tell US what To Do?!"

Sobli informed us of this too. Stylish, avant-garde Twig Earrings sewn with grass, dangling over both ears; a Tiara of Moss and Chestnuts upon her brow; rings she´d carved from Seashells from Southend upon her Toes - Sobli estimated this response to be as popular as the positive response. That is to say - that for every-billion Humans feeling awed and renewed by HanuHanu and the HanuHanu Tribe, there was another-billion feeling threatened. And even if it was only-half-a-billion - still; that was a lot of Psychic Aggression to be receiving!

Many Monkeys who stood still in the Forest around-that-time, especially at night, said they felt ShunShunShoola working non-stop - huffing and puffing, and spitting like a tobacco chewer. Some say they heard it hiccup and belch - opening spontaneously to honesty and kindness; spontaneously repelling All Arrogance, and any Urge to Hurt.

It is both Loving and Heartless.

I later reflected that, since ShunShunShoola rebounds aggressive thought-and-emotion Right Back At whoever emits-it (and assuming Sobliś estimates were accurate): over a billion Human Beings had Been Hit Back, by their own resentment and contempt!

Quite an Event in the Collective Human Emotionsphere!

34

Footnote

How was-it that the Giant Orange Monkeys of the Essex Estate were protected by such A.E.T (Advanced Energy Technology)? Well. .

HanuHanu, and the Founding Giant Orange Monkeys of the Essex Estate Tribe, set sail from the shores of the Mythic Lost City of Plastic in South America, without ShunShunShoola. And they arrived in the United Kingdom with-it! How?

Well, one peaceful, Dark Moon Night, upon a rolling black ocean - on That Boat big-enough to ferry about-fifty, five-metre-tall Giant Orange Monkeys from South American Jungle to European Forest - HanuHanu was up-on-deck, delighting in the Human Light-Pollution-Free Starlight - when he Beheld the Sun God, known-to-him as Lord Surya, and his Consort, Lady Maya the Enchantress, galloping across the Milky Way, in their Blazing Golden Chariot drawn-by five-white-mares.

"I wonder where theyŕe going?" HanuHanu was wondering, when, in-an-instant, Lord Surya and Lady Mayaś Blazing Golden Chariot and five-white-mares Appeared like an Apparition - about a hundred-metres-above him - incongruously, blindingly, rapturously. .

"HanuHanu" Lord Surya called-down from up-in his Fiery Chariot, "can you hear me?"

HanuHanu made the ´thumbs upśign with All Four Thumbs - and Lord Surya continued, "this is ShunShunShoola. It is skin-sample from the Energy Body of the Sun!

Itś for you!" And he explained that it was flat-packed, and how to assemble it, and what ShunShunShoola did.

HanuHanu reached-out and received the Sun Godś Gift and Blessing - lowering his eyelids in humble-gratitude, only for-a-moment, but - when he raised-them-again: Surya and Maya, Chariot and Mares, Blinding Light - all was gone! "And So It Is"

HanuHanu reflected - the flat-packed ShunShunShoola secure in his four-handed grip,

"that all-that-is-needed, is always-given - and more! Even-that which one-doesn´t-know one needs, is-given!"

And That is How - once, one black night, upon a black ocean - the Formidable and Pure ShunShunShoola was bestowed-upon what-was-to-be The HanuHanu Tribe…

35

12

Lecture 2: How to Become

an Animal Again

I

had had a particularly hectic night. At night I fly through Human Dreams, following the scent of True Love. And sometimes I find a True Lover - a Human I

Being not looking-out through fixed ideas and images; a Human Being with no pretence to know The Mystery who is their Lover; a Human Being gazing-upon and touching their Loverś Body ´for the first time forever´ - a body that a Lesser Lover would say they´d seen and touched a thousand times. . And into the heart of such a True Lover, I release an arrow of almost-unbearable-pleasure; and from then-on, that Human walks-through-life pierced by happiness; punctured by love. . And what a night it had been! I must have flown thousands of miles, and shot dozens of arrows! I can´t remember another one like it!

Gooj, it seemed, had also been up all night, as she was snoring raucously, boisterously; slouched, precariously propped up on her Divine Rattle; her eyes veiled by the brim of a hat of a hundred tentacles. She looked, to me, like Big Fat Hungover Octopus!

Cars, Vans, Lorries, Coaches. . In they rolled. . The Humans would get out of their vehicles, feel the Giant Orange Monkeys towering over them, and be taken aback -

humbled and nervous. I can imagine them feeling like Gulliver on his Travels, when he came upon The Land of The Giants; or Alice when she shrunk in Wonderland!

HanuHanuś sitting-place - there, between Gooj and me - was still empty. But because almost all of the Humans had been there-before, and knew the procedures, and their way-around - things soon got settled. And-then, next, once-again, as-before, not-long-ago: Silence Itself took hold of The Amphitheatre.

The Great HanuHanu, Direct Descendent of Lord Hanuman The Devoted, moves-through-the-air like a fish moves-through-water. Thatś how I´d describe his motion!

Itś slower-than a dance - but would be-a-dance, I expect, filmed and replayed on fast-forward.

HanuHanu was as Monumental as a Demigod, as Vulnerable as a Human Baby, and as Mischievous as a Monkey. His Humility, for many Human Beings, was embarrassing -

36

as-if it reflected their False Pride. Today I felt him Meditative - feeling, perhaps, the poignancy of these Awaited Times. He sat-his-fur upon the Furs of his Ancestors, and stroked the Sweet Chestnut. Then he reached for a clay-bucket of fresh-water from the Estate Wells, and held it on-high, as-if it were An Offering - as do the Hindu Brahmins who offer palmfuls of Ganges Water to the River Ganges Itself - self to Self. Then he slaked-his-thirst with Well Water, water from under the earth.

The filming and recording had begun. HanuHanu left space, once-again, for his Human Audience to accustom itself, once again, to the spectacle of a five-metre-high, talking Giant Orange Monkey with four arms - in one of which (the upper right) a Divine Sceptre-Mace (very popular among Hindu Goddesses, Gods and Gids), crackled-and-spat with Understanding, and in another of which (the upper left) an equally-popular Giant Love Lotus emitted a refreshing yet uncanny scent - troubling Human Beings with hazy-memories of Not Having Problems, and just-out-of-sight glimpses of a Long Unbeheld Beauty. HanuHanu let Humanity look-at-him - and he smiled welcomingly.

II

"Beloved Little Cousins, Hello! I feel happy to be-with you again" he told his now overa-billion Human Listeners. "Little Cousins - before I begin todayś Lecture, there is a subject I feel moved to address. . Reports have got-back to me of Two Extreme Responses to Lecture One - when I talked to-you about Human Superiority.. An extremely-approving response, an openness to hear-more; and an extremely-disapproving response - so determined not-to-hear-more, I am told, that it has actioned an Emergency Global Media Campaign to undermine-the-seriousness of these Lectures, and discredit their content.

And so - as you will no-doubt know - your Television Screens, have been full of films depicting Monkeys and Chimpanzees and Apes, even Orangutans - as Comical Little Fellows. Or as Ridiculous Idiots - as in The Planet of the Zombie Apes - a comedy-horror being televised, this week alone, on 600 channels in 450 countries. News Broadcasts worldwide have been ending, after The Sports, with light-and-refreshing stories about the Cute Little Things Monkeys Do in Zoos. Facebook and Instagram have suddenly been overrun by untraceable posts of Oh-So-Almost-Human Monkey Videos.

And there has been a proliferation of pseudo-documentaries: Humans with stethoscopes and razor blades dissecting Dead Monkeys, discussing their śub-human physiques´, and even quipping "wouldn´t be bad fried, with ketchup, eh?!" There have been Medical Documentaries, filmed in the gorgeous, extensive gardens of the Johnson and Johnson Research Facility Cemetery, where millions upon millions of cats and rabbits and rats and monkeys have been lain-to-rest with love and honour. "These dead 37

and deformed Research Monkeys are the True Heroes of Modern Medicine!" the presenters proclaim, solemnly. And - of course - unforgettably - there have been thousands of those Nature Documentaries I find so-invasive, if-not-voyeuristic -

looking close-up at Monkey Sex. Please!

And throughout these Supposedly Hilarious Monkey Films and Video Clips, these supposedly-adorable snippets of Monkey Antics, and these supposedly-authoritative Documentaries - there is one, repeating, relentless Subliminal Thought Injection: They Inferior, We Superior. . I have even-been-told of a top-new Japanese Gameshow that mocks-me with Juggling Competitions between Humans in HanuHanu Costumes with extra prosthetic arms!

This co-ordinated, subliminal campaign to synaptically-fuse the ideas ´monkeyánd śilly (though usually friendly)´ within the Human Brain, doesn´t shout-the-question

"are these the-kind-of-creatures we should approach for coherent Philosophical Existential Commentary?" - it answers it! It answers it for you! Without you even needing to ask! But Little Cousins - however you might Evaluate and Judge this campaign to discredit these United Nations Lectures - I would only like, if I may, to offer (this time unasked, I´m afraid) a Word of Counsel: to not pooh-pooh this Propaganda; to not underestimate the Power of this Campaign - to remember that when you were-a-baby, you did-not-hold your current Values or Beliefs; that they are Not Innate in You; that they are Not Your Own. . So that if you have already been-manipulated-and-modified - could it not happen again?1

But I leave it to you to decide whether, FOR YOU, I am a Cute Comical Character; or whether I am HanuHanu; the Son, perhaps, of a God, or a Demigod, or an Archetype, or an Egregore; perhaps its Mouthpiece, perhaps its Voice - but certainly with more-arms than you! And certainly bigger! And certainly not a Complete Fool! And with my Four Arms - a better juggler than any of the contestants on that gameshow, I am sure!

Perhaps I am, quite simply, A Creature of Another Species, neither-superior nor-inferior to your own; centuries older than any-of-you; attempting, with all the Love in his Heart, to help his Little Cousins - feeling, as he does, that they have lost-touch with themselves-and-their-world, and Each Other - and are struggling to find their way-back.

III

And so let us return to the Lectures - to Wakey Wakey, Little Cousins; Little Cousins!

38

Last-time I spoke to you about releasing-the-idea that Humans are the Most-Evolved Species. For almost all of you, this will take A While. Don´t worry, be patient. This Belief, or Neurological Pathway, has been handed-down, like a skeleton in the species-closet, through Human Generations for millennia. Itś in-you. You are made-of-it. So: no hurry. Slowly-slowly: let the idea of Human Superiority slip away. Apologise, perhaps. Forgive Yourself, perhaps. Look-out anew. Act differently. Give Way to a gradual, subtle, sweet realignment of your Way of Being. .

And Little Cousins - if you DO do-this; if you DO choose to be-logical with me; and if you DO let go of this (excuse me, but, ludicrous and obnoxious) belief - whether it happens quickly or slowly for-you - I, HanuHanu, your Sincere Well Wisher, predict: you will come to feel Different in the World - Lighter and Happier, as if A Pressure you had always existed-under, unknowingly - was dissipating, slipping-away..

At our Tribe Gatherings, we, the Giant Orange Monkey Family, talk a lot about the Human Family.. In our language, Giaoram, there is a crucial word, ´Kzzxxzz´, that we translate as The Tightness2. Kzzxxzz is an all-pervasive Energy - a bit like Magnetism.

It is the Cosmic Pressure that presses-things-together; and holds them in-place. It presses-upon the physical, and it presses-upon the mental and emotional - pressing-personalities-together, and holding our identities in-place.

But The Tightness is Unfeeling. It just-keeps Tightening! You´ve got to know When to Get Out! It deforms those who don´t - squashing their thinking; squeezing-out any-remaining-innocence; shrivelling-them in bitterness - until, finally, it Sucks them Dry.

And, Little Cousins - we see you In It! We see the Tightness Tightening Around You!

And we see you perilously-unaware! We see you in-it, and it in-you. We know the symptoms: the rigid bodies; the discordant behaviour; the social dissonance; the suffering. . To Us, it looks-like you feel Under Great Pressure: compressed, yet compelled to act-non-stop - by Invisible Energies that Haunt You.

Once, in the South American Jungles, where a second of the five Great Orange Monkey Tribes of the Earth resides, a Cocaine Smuggler came crushing, running, fleeing -

through their home. Seeing the Giant Orange Monkeys for the-first-time, the Smuggler was Shocked, and dropped his Plastic Bag of Cocaine upon a Colony of the Ant Nation; where it burst, and was inhaled by the Entire Colony.. The scene that ensued is much how we See You, Little Cousins. We see-you Irritated and Uncomfortable in your Skins; Under Compulsion; frantic, frenetic and conflictive. I will be direct, Little Cousins: we see you as fractured, lost and delinquent..

But worry not - HanuHanu is here! (Very Big Smile!) And today I want to take the Letting Go of the mental construct of Human Beings as The Superior, Most Evolved 39

Species one-step-further. I am going to talk to you about How to Become an Animal Again! In other words - if you DO decide you want to Be An Equal, here, with The Rest of Us: I am going to talk about, how to-do-that.

IV

And once again, I want to offer you a Key. This time - the Key to the Animal Dimension; which is where, I think youĺl find, You Belong. It is a perhaps unexpected Kind of Key. It is not the Counsel to Get Down on-all-fours, or to renounce Knives and Forks, or Howl at the Full Moon. It is an Existential Key. It is a Key to a Way of Being. And once IN this Way of Being, one passes, quite naturally, through the Arched Willow Doorway - into the Animal Dimension. This-time, upon The Door this Key Opens, as if in a Magic Theatre, are written-the-words I want to discuss-with-you, today: Śtay in your Own Experience´.

This Staying in Oneś Own Unique Experience, and never pretending one has Anything Else, is so Central to Giant Orange Monkey Culture that when we Greet Each Other, and especially when we Say Goodbye, we say ´Hoikatung Hungasala Boikala Kawowa´, which essentially means ´May we Stay in Our Own Experience, and Speak Our Own Experience´3.

Let me explain. . You are always in your Own Experience - are you not? You are in it now. And it is yours - it is unique to you. You are in your Own, Unique Experience.

Others - be they Humans, Dogs, Seagulls or Spiders - are not on the inside of Your Experience, like you are. They are in Their Own Unique Experience. You are feeling what you are feeling, in your body, heart, mind and being. They are feeling what they are feeling in theirs. But, Little Cousins - you are so full of Planning; of Posing as Someone; and of Doing - that you hardly notice your Own Unique Experience!

Little Cousins - I invite you to stop and Feel your World. Let yourself Have Your Experience - and let every Other Creature have theirs! And Stay, Little Cousins - Stay There, where you Already Are, without embellishments - without understanding - Stay in Your Own Experience. That is how we exist; that is how every fish swims, and every bird flies - without opinions or interpretations, alert in-the-moment, innocent, loving, joyful, authentic, and spontaneous.. Do you not see these qualities in them all? Even in your pets?"

HanuHanu was silent. He looked-into his Human Audience, encouragingly - as-if to say "yes! thatś right! even you-and-I! yes! we are ALL equal - because we are ALL in Our Own Unique Experience! And - yes! Thatś right! We are ALL Unique - whether we like it or not! Weŕe In It Together: We are One!" Some Humans heard his Eyesévery Word. Some Humans thought, grudgingly "so now even our pets are better than 40

us!" HanuHanu was silent - so gentle you just wanted to cuddle him; yet as powerful as the weather. Then he spoke again. .

"So after renouncing Human Superiority, the question becomes HOW to Exist in the Freedom of Equality and Belonging. Even if you accept your Animalness in theory -

you have forgotten how to be one! You don´t have to sell your house and sleep in a field; you don´t have to chase rabbits; you don´t have to become Nudists; you don´t have to Eat Raw; you don´t have to scratch-and-bite-more during sex - you just have to Stay in Your Own Experience - which is Already Fully Animal. .

Your hunger and thirst, your pissing and shitting; your summer sweat and need for shade; your winter chill and need for shelter; your lusting and procreating, and defending your own; your boisterous play and tender rest; your illnesses and injuries; your vigour and resilience; your growing and ageing and decomposing. . You always-were One of Us, dear Human Creatures! You just have to Stay in your Actual Experience!

Unfortunately though, you seem Committed to Holding On to Arbitrary Self Definition. You seem to Refuse Self Recognition - as Creatures Among Creatures: You, I, All of Us - Each in their Own Unique Experience. All of Us here-together, Humble in the Arms of the Seasons and the Elementals.

And again, Little Cousins, let me be direct: this Tightness you Hold On To - that Separates you from the Soil, Separates you from Yourselves. This Tightness you Hide Inside, hides You from Yourselves. So, of course, you Don´t Know Happiness!

And as the Universe Expands, and Time Accelerates, and The Tightness possesses you more-tightly, and your Power Expands - As A Family long-at-war with Itself, it certainly-seems, you are now Creating your Own Apocalypse. An Apocalypse though, that is not only Your Own, but also involves The Rest of Us.

V

So I ask that Each of You ask yourself this, Beloved Little Cousins: "Is it true, for me, that I am always only-ever within my Own Unique Experience? Can I ever be outside My Own Experiencing? Can I ever be in another Human Beingś Experience? Can I, for that matter, ever be in the Experience of another Creature of another Species? Is it true, for me, therefore - whether I judge it as a confinement, or judge it as liberation; whether I am threatened by it, or comforted by it; like it or not - that: All I Ever Have Is My Own Experience?

41

Little Cousins, I am inviting you to breathe gently, and to explore this question -

Through Experiencing. Letś avoid Clever Answers. This is not a mind-led enquiry. It is experience-led. I am inviting you to Ask This Question; and, at the same time - to gently-note your physical, emotional, mental and spiritual experience...

As you breathe, feel How you Are. Is your body tense? Sensual? Vital? Is your heart anxious? Overflowing? Numb? Is your mind perturbed? Chaotic? Still? Is your Innermost Sense of Self lonely? At Home? Broken? Beloved? Forget, for a moment, however you might´ve liked This Now to have been. . physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually. . Be Interested Only in How It Really Is, FOR YOU, Right Now.. Breathe softly. This is not a Thought Exercise. Feel for your Answers. Let Your Answers come as Feelings. These Feelings are Your Own Unique Experience. Watch what happens.

Watch as your physical, emotional, mental and spiritual experience interact, and evolve. .

And as you Watch, ask yourself, from your Own Deepest Aloneness: is it true FOR ME

that Áll I Ever Have Is My Own Unique Experience´?" Slowly, slowly! Notice whether it is True, For You: that, Choosing to Return to your Unique Experience, you Return to your Animalness.. That is to say: whether the Concept of Superiority dissipates inside you, and you become as Physically Present as the Rest of Us - and As Feeling; and As Grateful.

Notice whether it is true FOR YOU that, when rested inside Your Own Experience -

you feel-like you Belong to Everything; and whether it is true FOR YOU that, as you Stay in your Own Unique Experience, and gently Release The Tightness you´ve Held Onto for-so-long; that The Tightness lets-go of you - and that you come-to-feel The Absence of Pressure - which is also-known as Peace, or Freedom, or Joy!"

HanuHanu was silent. I felt I could sense many, many Humans Beings in Bliss. Áll I have is My Own Unique Experience´ had Trimmed all Trivia from their awareness. It was a Liberation. For others, however - whether watching projections of his image on a slick screen in a hippie-chic apartment in New York; or listening to projections of his voice on a hundredth-hand radio on a dust patch in a village not-far-from Timbuktu - for some, Áll I have is My Own Unique Experience´ was too simple to be trusted. They squirmed in the Spotlight of HanuHanuś rigorous yet generous Applied Logic. Their minds flailed wildly to find A Reason Why Not...

I felt a delicacy - almost a skilfulness - in HanuHanuś silent gazing. The image came-to-me of him steadying Human Awareness, in-the-way a pole steadies a Tightrope Walker. In his silence I could hear loving, accompanying words: "Breathe. Let Go.

Observe. Accept. Be gentle with yourself. Breathe. No hurry.. " Or perhaps HanuHanu was like a Juggler, with lots of balls in the air: the restlessness of the human body; the 42

agitation of the human heart; the claustrophobia of the human mind; the flatness of the human spirit - his soft, intense, silent gaze keeping everyone concentrated.

I don´t know if anyone noticed, but I shed a tear-or-two, as HanuHanu held the Human Gaze. I felt he was handing back each Human Being their birthright; that he was returning them from the dislocation and depletion and dullness of their tight social-conditioning - to the Magical Vitality of their Autonomy in Belonging. By helping Humans to Stay in their Unique Experience, he was giving them The Way Back to the mountains, and forests, and oceans, and sky. He was returning them from their numbness and cynicism and suffering; to the Wonder and Vigour of Belonging - to the Wonder of-which They are Part; to the Wonder, therefore, They Are.

"We shall end here, today" HanuHanu announced, softly. "Please - keep feeling how-it-feels, for you; and asking what-it-means, for you - To Stay in your Own Experience.

Live this Question. It will Answer You.

You asked for my social, ecological and spiritual counsel, Little Cousins. This is it! As you learn to stay in Your Own Experience Together - not only will you Remember Yourselves, and Recognise Each Other, and See Beauty Everywhere; but you will be optimally placed to address your social, ecological and spiritual woes."

Smiling his Very Big Smile, HanuHanu rose from his sitting place. The Humans who were sitting also rose, instinctively. They didn´t know whether to bow, or clap, or what.

The Amphitheatre was full of Dazed Humans. They had not expected so much participation. They were assimilating.

HanuHanu walked across the Amphitheatre, towards the exit - Golden Sceptre-Mace of Radiant Power, and the Giant Love Lotus of Unbearable Beauty, held high; leaning-over, from time-to-time, to smell the daisies. . All Human Eyes were upon him - almost in-disbelief. Not because he was a Four-Armed God-like Giant Orange Monkey bearing Archetypal Symbols - that was mind-boggling enough - but because they had never known such Gentle Power. Or Gentleness so Powerful, for that matter. Kindness was usually so soft. And Power so Hard. The way Kindness came booming out-of-him was quite-disconcerting. They hadn´t known such a thing could exist.

Notes

1. As Kim Jong-un, Supreme Leader of North Korea put it, once, in a drunken philosophical moment, at-a-party, "itś just a question of 43

repetition. Tell them any-old-shit enough times, and theyĺl end up believing it. Keep ON repeating it enough times, and theyĺl fight to defend it, and sacrifice their lives for it!" Everyone roared with laughter.

It was a thumper of a party - Hitler was there, and Stalin; Idi Amin and Pol Pot - all the despots were there..

Ivan the Terrible and Tamerlane did incredible impersonations of Michael Jackson singing "I´m Bad!". Emperor Hirohito and Mao Zedong competed in an ungainly manner for the one Karaoke mic. But it was fun - even Saddam Hussein let-go, and joined-in.

Kimś remark, in-another-context, might´ve ruffled a few humanitarian feathers - but there, it was Truly in the Spirit of the Night.

2. A bit more about The Tightness: As HanuHanu said, It surrounds Us All. It is a Universal Energy - like Magnetism, or Electricity. We are In It. It presses-against our edges - and makes-us definable. Without it, we would not-know Individuality; nor, therefore, Relationships; nor, therefore, Personal Love.

However, because The Tightness is always-contracting (always-tightening) - because it never stops - it is, therefore, potentially, extremely destructive. I say ´destructiveńon-judgementally: once It latches-on to Someone, and That Someone latches-on to It - It has the capacity to ´de-structureÍts Host. It will shrink-them, and shrivel-them - if they don´t know When, or How, to Let Go.

We, the Creatures of the Family of All Creatures, See the Tightness as-visually-as you see Fog, or Fire - and respect and fear it. But Human Beings, being in-a-state of Synaptic Disarray, don´t perceive The Tightness that hovers around-them - like a Chrysalis, or Shell.

They hardly-notice, as The Tightness Starts to Tighten, not-long-after birth - and keeps-on-squeezing - through childhood, through adolescence, through adulthood - tighter and tighter and tighter. Limbs stiffen; creative-thought is stifled - tenderness struggles to not-suffocate. . Some notice more, some notice less; some notice sooner, some notice later. But more-or-less, sooner-or-later - This Tightening presents every Human Being with Two Futures, and One Choice: to succumb to The Tightnessś seduction of certainties, blame, defence-and-attack, pride and vanity - and gradually shrivel and dry-to-dust; like in a Horror Film; or: to instinctively, courageously Let-Go-44

Through It - Taking the Ultimate Risk: to Hatch into the Unknown, like a Chick.

Sadly, perhaps - or necessarily, perhaps - Most of the Human Family is not-now instinctively, courageously Letting-Go-Through this divine, contracting, destructive pressure. Most of the Human Family has fallen-for its seduction, its Temptation to Fear. . And The Tightness is tightening-around them, and thickening-around them - and they are-becoming Harder and Harder to Crack.

Every Human Being has their own individual-relationship with the Tightness; and yet, collectively, it seems-to-me, the Human Family (Long Held - thick-skinned, once-removed, and reckless - deep in the pit-of-the-grip of The Tightness) - is now Coming to a Cacophonous Crescendo. . With its Mass Mining and Manufacturing and War Machines and Wreckage and Waste - the Human Species is more Powerful than Ever: running-and-hiding and crashing-and-bashing-about on Planet Earth, as-if, in this Garden of Eden, it were a Mad Trampling Metallic Beast, set-upon some Phantom Scent.

3. Actually, we have many phrases for greeting and parting. I won´t bother you with the (anyway, unpronounceable for you) Giaoram, but here are a few:

- May we See, not only Look.

- May we Hear, not only Listen.

- May We Be With the Force.

- May we Dissolve in Love during Sex, and between Sexual Encounters.

- May we Blow like the Wind, and Be Blown like the Clouds.

- Be like Water, My Friend.

45

13

The Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys

I

second layer of Estate Security (ShunShunShoola being the first) - you might A sa y - are The Elite Giant Orange Trickster Warrior Monkeys..

The Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys are Masters and Mistresses and Mistrosees of the control of the mind. They live-and-die in Silence. They can Throw a Thought anywhere in the world, with absolute precision of latitude and longitude. They all shave-a-line through their fur, from their foreheads to the navels - and wear the Trickster Warrior insignia - Two Noses on a Jesterś Hat - tattooed to the insides of their forearms.

They have all passed-through the Trials of the Elite Trickster Warrior Monkey Initiatory Rites - in-which, in the Name of Love, one does-or-doesn´t Let Go of Oneś Own Life. And through-which, if-one-does - one discovers One is Everyone. And they All Let Go.

From that Initiatory Moment, an Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeyś allegiance to the Battalion, the Tribe, and Everyone is total. Their manner is merry - though they never speak. They are Magicians of the Highest Order. Their efficiency is impeccable. They are Superpowered Robin Hood Samurai. .

For yes, indeed: the Elite Giant Orange Trickster Warrior Monkeys can bounce from branch to branch, or building to building, with the speed of Ninja Turtles, or Spiderman. They are as Wise and Sly as Jedis; as technologically brilliant as Iron Man

- and more mentally powerful than even Professor X, founder of The X-Men. . The Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys are as Deadly as Lightning, and as Selfless as Clouds.

II

That night they were gathered with Gooj, their beloved, eccentric Mentor; somewhere in the Estate Forest, somewhere in the light of the Gentle New Moon. It had slipped Goojś slippery-mind, to mention to HanuHanu that she had called this Gathering of the Elite Trickster Warriors.

"Think Party Balloons!" she bellowed, "think inflating. . but not-tying. . then letting-go. ." Gooj paused. Then coughed, like a bassoon, for attention. "Most Honoured Elite Giant Orange Trickster Warrior Monkeys of the HanuHanu Tribe - Children of My 46

Tricky Heart. . Since we-all-know The Human Family is spinning and farting, out-of-control and shrivelling, like a vast Flock of Untied Party Balloons.. And since we-all-know Our Beloved HanuHanu has taken the United Nations Invitation as a Sign to Act - and is now Speaking into this chaotic Sky of Lunatic Balloons. And since we can all-already-see that his Vibration of Pure Honesty and Kindness, like a storm -

predictably, inevitably - is only further whipping-up their chaos.. The question - My Spiritual Progeny, My Sweet Elite, My Lethal Enlightened Clowns - The Question. . is: whether to engage Mass Creative Hypnosis Protocol, or not!"

(Essentially, this ´protocol´ meant hypnotising the Whole Human Species! Not hypnotising them in-order-to exploit them, Gooj would no-doubt have asserted - but so that they would be less-of-a-danger to Themselves, to Us - to Existence.)

"We could hypnotise them to Believe theyŕe Beautiful!" "That they Belong!" "That they Are Loved!" "That they Are Love!" "That theyŕe already in The Garden!" "That Beauty is staring them in-the-face!" Without opening their mouths once, they tossed about hundreds of possible Hypnotic Suggestion Focal Statements. . But the decision to engage Mass Creative Hypnosis Protocol, or not, was not taken. Nor was it taken later that night. Nevertheless, a fire had been lit in the One Heart of the Elite Giant Orange Trickster Warrior Monkeys.

Though nothing had been decided, from that-night-on the Trickster Warriors were bonded in readiness-for-action. The theory of The Protocol was straightforward enough, but they all knew its implementation would be supra-monkeyly complex. It would require such precise, multi-faceted, synchronised planning and execution, on such a global scale, that it would test the skills even of the Five Battalions of Elite Trickster Warriors of the Five Giant Orange Monkey Tribes of the Earth. Just the possibility of such-a-challenge Thrilled Them.

III

And well they might get-their-chance! For the Leaders of the Tightness in the Human Psyche who were investing millions of pounds, dollars, euros, yuan, roubles and yen in the Global Media Campaign portraying Monkeys - and therefore especially HanuHanu

- as endearing, quirky simpletons; were The Very Same Ones who had sent helicopters to kidnap Giant Orange Monkeys for research - the ones whose helicopters had backfired gorily upon-them.

These-very-same Leaders of the Tightness in the Human Psyche had scraped ShunShunShoolaś DNA meticulously from the wreckage; and - believing that they had perfected A Micro-Astral Atomic (M.A.A.) Bullet that could dodge-its-way through 47

ShunShunShoola’s molecular structure - and had now begun large-scale M.A.A. Bullet Manufacture.

For these Leaders of the Tightness in the Human Psyche, the Letting Go of Human Superiority was not an Invitation to Eden, but a direct threat to Human Civilisation; a power-play by a Bunch of Apes to take-control of the Planet - and if not Enslave the Human Species, at The Very Least, to-return-it to The Jungle. For these Leaders, these puffed-up Human Puppets of the Will of the Tightness - as-well-as for the punctual and punctilious Populace of the Tightness (the equally-tight Human Led) -

HanuHanuś Lectures were a resounding declaration of Interspecies War.

The Tightness was tightening-them, more-and-more - but they had lost-the-instinct to know How Tight was Tight Enough. In fact, they had-no-idea that The Tightness was something one was supposed to Hatch Through. They didn´t even know they were in-it!

Of course, Some Humans did - and they were-the-ones who were Hearing HanuHanuś call to be-more-honest; to face-facts - and Become One Again. But these Leaders, and these Led, were not contemplating hatching! It felt too familiar and easy, too homey and warm - inside their Tightening Identity Eggs. They were Set in the Grip of the Tightness: living-and-dying in fierce defence of precarious-importance, addiction-to-habit, and deliberate-unconsciousness.

And yes, it would be easy-to-think that Goojś latest media-scattering of bizarre, musical jokes about the Coming of The ÜberMonkey weren´t helping! For me, she was just busy-being her usual buffooning self - poking, parodying, provoking. . "What is the Human to the Giant Orange Monkey?" she´d sing operatically, prophetically.. "An Evolutionary Memory! Cute, sweet - embarrassing! And the Giant Orange Monkey shall be just that, for the Giant Orange ÜberMonkey! Behold, I Teach you the ÜberMonkey! The ÜberMonkey is the Meaning of the Earth!" Whose side was she on?

Wasn´t she on-the-side of the Family of ALL Creatures? Was she really THAT

Simiocentric? Of course not! Gooj was on-the-side of the Humour that can Penetrate deeper than the Blade! But I´m not sure Humanity found her Funny!

48

14

The Hundred Human Effect

I

anuHanu had left Humanity to contemplate the possibility of Becoming Truly H Hu

man Again - of resisting the Pull of Domestication, the Seduction to Comfort, the Pressure to Sameness, and the Relentless Persuasion towards Certainty.

He had left-them-imagining Standing Proud Again within the Family of All Creatures

- Vital and Invigorated; Joyful to Be; Big Hearted; and Humble in the Sacredness of The Great Unknown. .

And how had he recommended they Become Animals Again? By Coming into Existential Congruence with the Intellectual Understanding that: All Any Creature Ever Has, At Any Moment Ever, is the inside-eye on their Own Experience! How odd!

How unexpected! It had-not-been the politically-naive Eco Plea some Humans had been expecting - full of data on deforestation and desertification. Nor had-it-been the psychologically-naive, whining, platitudinous Moral Plea to Share the Food, Share the Water, Stop Genocide, and Be Nice - that Other Humans had been expecting. Nor had it been the parsimonious Spiritual Plea Yet Other Humans had been expecting - the call to Heal the World by faith, or positive-thinking, or esoteric ritual. .

For our part, here-on the Giant Orange Monkey Essex Estate, we all felt HanuHanu had Spoken with clarity and compassion. We would´ve expected no-less from the Being who Bore the Golden Sceptre-Mace of Radiant Power, and the Giant Lotus of Love of Unbearable Beauty.

II

HanuHanu Himself played with the Giant Orange Monkey Children, Made Love in the Undergrowth, Farmed the Forest, and feasted on the Autumn Harvest with the Whole Tribe. Yet part of him was turned inward..

HanuHanu knew-without-thinking about The Tightness; about its hold-upon the Mass Human Psyche; and how, through Humanity, it was manufacturing ShunShunShoola-DNA-Dodging Bullets. He also knew about Mass Creative Hypnosis Protocol, and that Gooj was igniting the fiery-energy of the Elite Trickster Warriors.

For HanuHanu, not only was Mass Creative Hypnosis Protocol a tricky plan, it was also the Final Weapon. To initiate it would mean, for HanuHanu, that all else had 49

failed. It would be to rob Humanity of its Illusion of Free Will, to become Monkey Puppeteers with strings that danced the Human Mind. It would make relationship with the Humans pointless - unless all one wanted was agreement-on-everything. It would be to rob the Humans of their Humanity. HanuHanu was more inclined to Koshofuś Hundred Human Effect...

Koshofu, who had come to the Essex Estate from another of the Five Giant Orange Monkey Tribes of Earth, the Ice Tribe of the Arctic, was a Professor of Anthropology (understood, literally, in its original sense, as ánthropos´ + ólogy´; that is, Human +

Study = the Study of Humans), and now a HanuHanu Tribe Elder.1

Professor Koshofu propounded the theory of the Hundred Human Effect. He had noticed that if one Human, or a group of Humans, invented, for example, a mobile/cell phone or a computer, then soon they all knew how to use one. This was even correct, he maintained, at the level of their cultural trends. .

A particularly clever, or original, or creative Human Being would sing in a New Way, or dress in a New Way, and soon its Whole Generation was singing like-that, or dressed like-that - even though this mass homogeny was never imposed, or even co-ordinated.

Somehow The Human Species was in Mass Telepathic Communication with-itself, Professor Koshofu maintained, enabling it to diffuse new learnings throughout the species.

Professor Koshofu had conducted a particularly fascinating study of the way each generation, and sub-generation, of Pubescent Humans co-created its own vocabulary and vocal intonations, with no perceivable central organising or authorising point, or force. Human Beings were connected in Ways of Which they were not-aware, the Professor would conclude - and that, therefore, by educating Only Some (the figurative óne hundred´), The Many would also be educated - by virtue of Species Osmosis.

III

HanuHanu paced the Estate alone at night, many-a-night. Or so it seemed. In actual fact, he was in-communion with The Great Hanuman; who walked, glowing-invisibly alongside him - along the coiling pathways that decorated the Estate Forest Floor.

With the Hundred Human Effect in-mind, HanuHanu enquired, "What is your opinion, Father? If a sufficient number of Humans Give Up Certainty; if a sufficient number can relax-back into the Sweetness of Not Knowing; and the Humility of Genuine Equality; and enter the Worry Free Zone of acceptance of Not Being In Control - will there come A Tipping Point of no-return? Will there be, perhaps, a telepathic-flash across the Species Mind? Will the Entire Human Species link-up in-50

an-instant, in a Mass Species Synaptic Explosion? Will their Whole Family suddenly know-no-other than Belonging in the Family of All Creatures - as-if it had always been that-way?" Hanumanś Holy Eyes looked lovingly, thoroughly, upon his Divine Descendent - silently.. HanuHanu felt comforted, through-and-through.

Hanuman Himself only smiled. He didn´t speak that night. But as the Dawn Dew began to sparkle in the Light of the Sun; and The Great Hanumanś form evaporated in the morning mist; HanuHanu heard words along these lines blowing through the Forest branches:

"Hope is always logical, because the Future is Always Unknown. Even-if All was Decided long-ago; in fact, longer-than-ago - in-a-time without Days or Months or Years - still, For Us, the Future remains Unknown...

My dearest, beloved HanuHanu, DNA of my DNA, seer of my sight, hearer of my hearing, speaker of my speech - you will only know the Accuracy of the Hundred Human Effect once a Hundred Humans have Understood your Lectures - and that Understanding has arrived-into their Human fingers and toes, and genitals, and brains!

So Speak, HanuHanu, Speak!

Perhaps the Professorś right; perhaps, if-enough Human Beings come-to-feel there is Everything to Create and Nothing to Achieve; Everything to Share, and Nothing to Prove - that everything is-already Being Given - perhaps then there WILL be a Hundred Human Effect-style, exponential, telepathic activation of Human Honesty and Homecoming. Perhaps there will. Or - perhaps-not.

Perhaps only-a-few will survive. Perhaps your Words are for Them. We do not know.

Even-if All is Decided, Nothing is Known. So Speak, HanuHanu, My Love! Speak!"

Notes

1. You might not like me, after I tell you this - so I know I am taking a risk. . But the One who was responsible for Professor Koshofuś sudden urge to Exit the Arctic, and join the HanuHanu Tribe in England, was me! I just couldn´t help myself: I could feel the exact-same Vibration of Longing coming from Koshofu in the Arctic, and our-own Garangula, here on the Essex Estate. It was Uncanny! I calibrated their Vibrations of Longing to the millionth degree - and they were identical, however far-back you went! It was as-if they were the Same Giant Orange 51

Monkey - Longing Identically for Love. . And so. . (I am a romantic!). .

I couldn´t help myself. . I flew into Professor Koshofuś dreams - and fired!

The Professor had-known about the New Fifth Giant Orange Monkey Tribe in Europe, but now - as my Sweet Arrow of Kryptonite and Love pierced-him in his dreaming consciousness - his Own and Garangulaś Vibrations began to resonate magnetically; and Koshofu was drawn-south, towards his Lover To Be.

I am not usually that manipulative! But I was impelled - and I trusted.

And no one is complaining! Koshofu and Garangula have entered an inspiring, spiralling Resonance of Love. And as time has-passed, Koshofu has, I feel, been a Support to HanuHanu - both as an Anthropologist, and as a friend.

52

15

Save The Lesbians

I

he Media Campaign Project ´Project Moridango´ (Project Monkey Ridiculous Dangerous), became (in my opinion, and, it seemed, in the opinion of the Whole T Essex Tribe), itself-so-ridiculous, that some of its antics kept Us Up all-night, laughing. .

For instance: the quickly-formed, multinationally-funded Think Tank, The Centre for Simian Studies, generated a lot of Anti-Monkey Propaganda - but none made The Whole Tribe enter hysterics, so loudly, so joyfully, for so long; as the article by the Feminist Anthropologist claiming that our Recent Tribe History, as we told it, was a lie. "A lie to hide. . what?" she hissed ominously, like A Person gone Bad.

The Recent Tribe History to-which she was-referring, had been excerpted-from Our Own Tribe Annals, which (and I insist): For Us, Are Not Lies; but the Treasured Ancestral Narrative of our Forbearers; and of Our Own every day-and-night lives and deaths.. They are also-intended as an Offering - from Ourselves to Humanity. In short

- for us, not-only is Our Recent Tribe History not a Pack of Lies; it is excerpted-from Annals which are An Ode to the Earth - an Ode to Existence!

This Human Being, or Coterie of Human Beings, calling itself Á Feminist Anthropologist´, cited elaborate research-evidence all pointing, it asserted, to the unequivocally clear conclusion that: it was not Indiana Jones who had been searching for the City Made Entirely of Plastic; the legendary Lost City of Plastic - but Lara Croft, aka The Tomb Raider! Which led-to the Feminist Anthropologistś most-righteous accusation:

The fact that the gender of the Human who had ´brought the monkeys to civilisation´

(sic) had been-switched; that The Monkeys had changed the Heroine for a Hero; was proof of Monkey Chauvinism - and, of course, specifically, proof that HanuHanu was a Tyrannically Sexist Machista Giant Orange Monkey; and probably, therefore, Tyrannically Racist too, even if he was orange.

The Feminist Anthropologist crowed: "These arrogant Monkeys are lecturing us! Their project is Śave the Human´! But we don´t need saving! We are not dolphins, or whales, the creatures of the rainforests, or polar bears! We are not an endangered species! We 53

are an advanced civilisation! As Human Beings, we have evolved beyond our instincts.

We might be torn-apart by religion, politics, football, discriminations and persecutions of every possible variety, and ruthless heartlessness and ignorance - but that does not mean we should let these Lying Monkeys, these Macho Sexist Propagandists and Re Writers of History, lead us Back to the Jungle!" Just this one sentence had us rolling about for-hours; with Monkey after Monkey pleading for mercy from the merciless Laughter Devils, who just-wouldn´t let go! There were moments when I thought I´d dissolve - and be-remembered as an-odd-case of Enlightenment by Hysterics!

II

At one-point in the article, the Feminist Anthropologist, said Lara Croft was á fine young woman, with a superbly toned body´. This, of course, sent the Whole Tribe somersaulting! And. . for better-and-worse, as always... it was this comment that gave Gooj her Śave the Lesbians!´ banner idea. And like most of Goojś pranks, this one was provocative..

The banner she designed - and which she Sat Beneath like a patriot - displayed two Human-Female-looking Dolphins suspended in Dolphin-like flight above what looked like a Pit of Wavy Stakes. Beneath the image, the words Śave The Lesbians!´.

She would sit next to HanuHanu, whatever the occasion, rolling her eyes - as if-to-say

"Heś missing the point, the real issue is Saving Lesbians!" Sometimes, even, during a meeting-or-conference; she´d stomp around The Amphitheatre, waving her banner -

and kind-of-yodel her slogan "Save the Lesbians! Save the Lesbians!"

Human Beings were bemused and confused. News Channels were full-of Images of Gooj - Banner in one hand, Rattle in-the-other, absurdly- ostentatious Hat on Head, Proclaiming her Cause. But Śave the Lesbians´ from what? Talk Shows analysed her Banner with Experts in Dolphin and Snake Symbology; her Slogan was dissected by Professors of Linguists, Communication, and Embroidery.. Whatever Way they looked at-it: Human Beings could only-imagine that Gooj; and perhaps, therefore, All Giant Orange Monkeys; considered Lesbianism to be some kind of affliction, or disorder, or curse - and that she, Gooj, was a Sexual Fundamentalist; sounding-the-call, on behalf of The Heterosexual Ideal - to offer Damned Lesbians Salvation.

And because, when-asked, Gooj never gave A Straight Answer (except, sometimes, to the Trickster Warrior Monkeys - towards whom she Felt like a Mother), Human Beings couldn´t escape these Limited Imaginings. Spotting an Opportunity, Project Moridango offered more-than-generous extra-sponsorship to these News Channels and Talk Shows, to nudge Giant Orange Monkey Sexual Fundamentalism up to the-top-spot, as The Big News of the Day - which they-all-did, every day, for days.. Which 54

is why, as during many previous Gooj-sparked scandals, HanuHanu stepped-in seriously.

Not that HanuHanu is a serious Giant Orange Monkey. Not at all! When Garangula -

our admirable, lanky, scholarly Tribe Shaman - had been reading the Feminist Anthropologist Article to us; HanuHanu had been on-his-back, practically pissing-himself; practically choking with laughter; slapping his four palms on the earth - again and again and again and again! But he stepped-in-seriously now (whereas, at another-moment, he might not-have), because the Gooj Save The Lesbians story was, he felt, distracting the Human Family from the United Nations Lecture Series. And as I have told you, though few-knew until now - this was a Lecture Series HanuHanu had been mulling-over, and that had been mulling-him-over, for decades.

So rather-than let the Giant Orange Monkey Lesbian Controversy monopolise Human Attention, and Gooj be seen as a Sexual Fundamentalist (on top of already being deliberately-conspicuously-weird); and, by association, all of Our Giant Orange Monkey Tribe (perhaps even-all Giant Orange Monkeys) be suspected of Sexual Fundamentalism, and Weirdness - HanuHanu, one afternoon, between Lectures, called a Press Conference to explain that: Giant Orange Monkeys were not anti-Lesbian, or anti-anyone; and what-it-was about Goojś banner that Amused Her.

III

After welcoming the Human Media, once-again, to The Estate Amphitheatre; and with a few kind words, inviting the Humans into an Atmosphere of Ease - HanuHanu stated his two intentions for calling this Press Conference. The first was to clarify that neither Gooj, nor any Giant Orange Monkey anywhere, was anti-Lesbian, or felt Lesbians needed Saving from their Sexuality. The second was to explain Goojś Surreal Buffoonery - as he, HanuHanu, understood it.

"Little Cousins" HanuHanu smiled, "in order to-do-this, I imagine youĺl be intrigued-to-hear - I want to tell-you-about the Giant Orange Monkey orientation towards Sex."

And indeed, it seemed To Me, there was a sudden-eagerness in the Amphitheatre Air.

HanuHanuś gentle, young, old, resounding voice was, of course, deeper than any Human Voice. It hummed in the Human ear, and chest. "I imagine" he smiled-on, "that as you come-to-see how we See Sex, you will accept that we are not anti-Lesbian, or anti-Human, or anti-Anyone. . And if you-do come to See Sex through Our Eyes - you might-even Laugh at Goojś Lunacy!

So, firstly, Little Cousins: the subject Gooj is opening, and poking fun-at, is not Sexuality - but Self Definition! Her banner could equally have read Śave The Heterosexuals´. She chose Śave the Lesbians´, I would imagine, as usual, to be 55

provocative. We, The Giant Orange Monkeys, do not define-ourselves in terms of one-or-another Specific Set of Sexual Susceptibilities. No Giant Orange Monkey considers themselves lesbian, or gay, or bi, or hetero, or anything. We don´t ´Define in Advance´

- that is to say, before-meeting another Giant Orange Monkey - how our Bodies and Hearts should-or-shouldn´t respond; or which Sexual Possibilities we will allow Ourselves and Each Other; or if we will wish to allow ourselves any-at-all.

We Giant Orange Monkeys, like All of the Other Millions of Families and Nations and Species on Earth (except Human Beings), Exist in our Unique Individual Experience -

each of us Stays in their Unique Experiencing, as it unfolds around-them and through-them, in the ever-flowing Present Moment. We do not Pretend to Understand Life and Death. And because this is the Way We Are - we don´t Self Define. We enter every-moment, and every-encounter with every Other Giant Orange Monkey, in full-openness. We do not set parameters, In Advance, by Sexually Self Defining. For us, whenever we meet, whomever we meet - All Possibilities are Always Possible.

For us, the closest we could come to a statement like "I Am A Lesbian Monkey", would-be for a Female Monkey to say "until now I have only/mostly found myself Attracted to other Females". But the unspoken, follow-on sentence would always-be "but what will happen next - who knows?!"

Dearmost Little Cousins, I feel I am aware of the delicacy of the Human Historical Moment. I feel I understand that, for some centuries now, the Human Species has been evolving-socially - Letting Go of Mindsets that Obstruct Equality. And I personally feel that, for those Humans who class-themselves as Lesbians - to NOT be considered aberrant; to NOT be seen as needing śaving´ - is one-of-the many successes of this Social Evolution.

So to be clear: like me, our entire Giant Orange Monkey Tribe, supports Non-Heterosexual Pride in all Humans. We also support Heterosexual Pride. However, this is not because we support Human Sexual Self Definition - it is because we support Self Pride.

As I have said, Goojś mockery of Humans advertising themselves as Ĺesbians´, was a mockery of Sexual Self Definition, not Lesbianism. As for-all Giant Orange Monkeys; for Gooj, when a Man says heś Gay, it sounds like "I only walk with one-leg", or "I only look-out of one-eye"!

"Why would Any Creature exist in-this-way - crippling-themselves in-this-way?" we ask-ourselves, astonished. Yes - we see Human Sexual Self Definition is just another Artificial Certainty - but we see-it-as one that generates interference within the Flow of Love. For us - by ruling out, In Advance, the possibility of a Sexualised Encounter 56

with Another Human Being, due-to their Sexual Self Definition placing-them Beyond the Limits of oneś Own Sexual Self Definition - is to Let Arbitrary Ideas block the full, four-sphere Sharing of Love.

Not only this, but For Us, Sexual Energy is The River of Life that flows-through Us All. And so to delineate and mediate Types of Sexual Expression is to frustrate-the-flow of The River of Life. Which is more than just A Sexual Matter! It has made you, as a Species, in our eyes - stiff and twisted-up, domesticated and dull. To us, even what-you-consider your Wildest Sexuality looks formulaic and cathartic; as-if you were awkward Creatures out-of-practice at Being Creatures. I do not intend this as an insult.

It is what we see. And we see it as the inevitable, logical outcome of your Tight Sexual Self Definition. .

You do not Live and Die Beyond Definition, in the Mystery of Your Own Experience when you walk or sit or eat or rest - so how could your sexuality Be Beyond Definition?

I have been asked, time and again, whether the Tribe practices Monogamy, or Polygamy, or Polyamory.. But I have never answered as-directly-as this, until now: We are Amoramorous! We practice Amoramory! We are Lovers of Love! We follow the Sweetness in our Limbs - and the swelling-and-hurting of the Heart - that arise naturally, when we look-upon Each Other with Amazement. In that resonance, every moment is an adventure - and whether there will-be Genital Connection, or not - we leave that to our Bodies to Decide.

We allow Ourselves and Each Other: Absolute Sexual Freedom. It is as Absolute as the Intellectual Freedom we give Ourselves and Each Other to think whatever we want-to-think; as Absolute as the Emotional Freedom we give Ourselves and Each Other to feel-the-feelings weŕe actually-feeling; and as Absolute as the Spiritual Freedom we give Ourselves and Each Other to Never Apologise for Staying In, and Speaking From, our Own Unique Experience of Belonging.

IV

But let me be clear, Little Cousins: I am telling you About Us - I am not making Recommendations to Humanity. In my opinion, although there might be individual exceptions - as a Species, you are far-from-ready for Absolute Sexual Freedom. You are not-ready psycho-emotionally, nor spiritually - not even intellectually.

Nor do you have the Social Infrastructure that would be-needed in order to sustain such free-flowing, free-form sexuality. Whereas we, the Giant Orange Monkeys, have been handing-on such a Social Infrastructure, from generation to generation, since the Vedic Era of Srí Hanumanji Himself.1

57

How could the Human Species be capable, en masse, of innocent Spontaneous Sexuality, when, in general, it seems-incapable of even Intellectual Intercourse!? To allow oneself to penetrate, and be-penetrated-by, Anotherś Ideas; to not attack, or defend-from, ideas opposed to Oneś Own; to taste and smell anotherś mind; to caress the textures of another-creatureś Conceptual Journey; to explore together in the playground of No Certainties - such Intellectual Love Making is beyond-the-capacities, it would seem, of the Majority of the Human Species. I don´t say this with any lack of respect for the Human Species, Little Cousins, but as a conclusion-to-date, based on dispassionate observation. And if the Human Species currently struggles to swim in the streams of Intellectual Intercourse; I feel it unlikely, if not impossible, it could swim across the vast, passionate, elemental ocean of Absolute Sexual Freedom!

But if you are so Currently Incapable - why even-say all this? Because I am Speaking -

not only to resolve the Save the Lesbians Affair, but as I have said in my United Nations Lecture Series, ´Wakey, Wakey; Little Cousins!´ - My Words in-great-part, are for the Generations to Come.. I see them like Little Sound Balls, I am tossing into the Future!

As you know: the Human Family is provoking Ecological Chaos - risking Its Own Species Survival. To Us, it feels-like Your Apocalypse - which is now An Apocalypse for Us All - is already well-underway. We feel Your Armageddon is already-raging.

Perhaps it will rage for centuries - who knows?!

But if some-of-you DO make-it-through. . well, ultimately. . it is For YOU that I am Speaking: you who will-survive, and parent children who will-survive-on after you. .

My hope is that these Visions of Innocence; will be passed-down through-you - for when, if-ever, in some-generation, the Human Family is ready for its children to grow-up In Sexual Innocence.

But Little Cousins. . I am going to end here for today. I hope I leave you reassured that neither we, the European Giant Orange Monkey Tribe of the Essex Estate, nor any Giant Orange Monkey anywhere, stands opposed to Any Creatureś sexuality. I also hope you now better appreciate Goojś banner; and her sense of humour - her mocking of all Self Definition, of all Fixed Identity, of all Human Conceptual Clothing. I would also like to reassure you that Goojś Only Aim Ever is to provoke questioning, openness, and the adventure of honesty. . She is not proposing that Humanity cast-aside all Sexual Self Definition today, or this-evening. . And nor Am I. Rather, in her Own Weird Way, she is Parading a Mirror before the Human Family - showing even the most-liberal of Human Beings, how they-too Rush to Defend Definition."

With these words, HanuHanu rose to his full-height. Instinctively, the Humans all leaned-back. HanuHanu was massive. He was monumental. In his upper-right hand his Divine Sceptre-Mace crackled with some Strange Electricity. In his upper-left his 58

Giant Love Lotus exhaled Puffs of Kindness. The Humans watched in bewildered-awe, as he slowly-ambled out of The Amphitheatre, off Into the Forest.

Notes

1. As HanuHanu says, we have a Social Infrastructure that has guided Tribe life-and-death since Vedic Times. It incorporates four Commitments:

(1) the commitment to Live in Our Own Unique Experience (2) the commitment to The Infinite Ecosphere to which our lives-and-deaths Belong

(3) the commitment to Each Other, to the Tribe

(4) the commitment to All Parenting All of the Children.

I could talk-a-lot about All Four Commitments. But I want to add a note, principally-about Commitments One and Three - about Self and Tribe; About Personal and Collective Identity.. In fact, I´m going to call this footnote ´Tribe and Sameness´..

And so. . (please note!): Commitment One overrides all the others!

Commitment One takes precedence! Our Commitment to the Tribe, and even to the Ecosphere, is preceded by our individual-commitments to Live in Our Own Experience - by each Giant Orange Monkeyś devotion to its-own-uniqueness. In our experience, so-far, and therefore, as we see it: the Other Three Commitments always end-up flowing-on naturally from the First.

Commitment to the Tribe, therefore, is not about Sameness - about all speaking the Same Body Language; or all wearing the Same Expressions; or standardising The One Correct Tribal Way to do things; or about colluding in Exclusive Beliefs - beliefs to Bond Us, to the exclusion of All Others. We don´t even have One Way, our-own-special Tribal Way, to relate to HanuHanu. . For some heś an Awesome God; for some heś a Friend; for Many heś a Lover; for the Giant Orange Monkey Children he is a Love Mountain. For me, Cupid, Son of Cupid, he is Just HanuHanu - who happens-to-have Four Arms, and got tangled-up in a Prophecy; just like I happen-to-have Wings and Double Genitals, and ended-up sitting alongside-him, here, as Tribe Scribe..

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Little Cousins - whenever you see Other Humans all dressed-the-same

- run, run, run! No matter if they are the Army, the Police, Parking Attendants, or a band of adolescents with their trousers identically-belted at their knees. No matter! Whenever you see All-The-Same -

run, run, run! Do not try to fit-into the Fashion. Take no-notice of the News. Look-out through your Own Eyes - not the Eyes of Others. Do not let Priests or Witchdoctors or Scientists or Clothes Designers place their tenets and codes between You and Your Direct Experience. Do not become a Duplicate of Anyone. Love Your Unique Body, and Your Unique Personality; Take Kind Care of its fears, and its deep attachment to its own insufficiency; self-observe until you see You are Part of Everything - and that Everything is a Miracle.

Itś not that weŕe anti-sameness, itś that NO Humans (or Giant Orange Monkeys, or Elephants, or Frogs, or Rocks, or Roses) ARE

actually the same - ever! Even Siamese Twins are different! Everyone is a one-off! Therefore, as we see-it: any Effort to Conformity, towards trying to be-the-same-as Other Human Beings; is a Betrayal of Your Uniqueness. And to betray Your Uniqueness, is to betray Existence!

Thatś why I say "run, run, run!". Groups of Humans Pretending Sameness are dangerous! Why? Because they are colluding in Not Facing the-frightening-fact that, because Every Creature is Unique, every Creature is Alone; and that, because Existence comes Instructionless - no Creature knows-for-sure what Another Creature needs; and that, therefore, Every Creature is called-upon to take Full Responsibility for Themselves.

Our Commitment to the Tribe NEVER overrules our Individual Commitment to Ourselves to Stay In, Embrace and Appreciate our Unique Personal Experience. And yet, (and this is, perhaps, most interesting of all): this Common Individual Commitment to live-and-die in-the-flow of our Uniqueness - strengthens the Togetherness of the Tribe.

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16

The Liberation of the Chickens

I

ooj was overseeing an early-morning, full-battalion Elite Trickster Warrior G Monkey Telekinetic Training Session when, out of nowhere, an unusually-large and well-plumed Cockerel was right there, in their midst. He had claws like an Eagle, and a Nobility Akin to their-own.

"How did we not notice your arrival?" Gooj enquired.

"Madame, with respect" said the chicken, in a heavy Chinese accent, "I am CooRa, Captain of the Elite Stealth Advanced-Ops Taoist Chickens, and a high-ranking bureaucrat in the Alliance for the Dignity of All Creatures. I have travelled to England from China to beg for your Help for my Nation. I know if-anyone can Help Us, it is Your Good Selves - the prophesied and most respect-worthy New European HanuHanu Giant Orange Monkey Tribe."

"Tell us of your travels!" said Gooj, and she sat-back to listen, and watch - and get the-measure of this seemingly most-dignified intruder. And so it-was, that CooRa regaled the Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys with tales of his adventures as he stowed-away on luxury cruise ships, aeroplanes, and the bags on the back of bikes. There-were tales of timing, tales of capture-and-escape; tales of hunger and brute-will - and tales of making friends. Sometimes CooRaś Chinese accent was so-pronounced that the Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys couldn´t understand him; but they understood most of what-he-said - and they felt respect and admiration for whatever it-was he was saying

- this Chicken of Resolve and Devotion.

Before-long - Gooj and the Full Battalion all loved CooRa. He was a mini, feathered, head-jerking, pecking-obsessed Elite Giant Orange Trickster Warrior Monkey, at-heart. On Everyoneś behalf, Gooj announced they would be willing to hear the Details of his Plea. They offered their guest fruit-and-water; ate and drank with-him - then sat-at-ease to hear, the exact nature of this brave Cockerelś Mission.

"Most respect-worthy Elite Trickster Warriors of the HanuHanu Giant Orange Monkey Tribe, I have Journeyed the Earth to come before you, and make a plea on behalf of the Chicken Nation. Most respect-worthy Warriors, my Nation is being held in Concentration Camps by Human Beings on every Landmass.

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We are a Nation of fifty billion - but almost all Of Us are surviving in abominable circumstances in Concentration Camps, run by Humans; devastated, broken; hatched into hopelessness, existing but unable to express. Every-day millions Of Us are mechanically murdered - without having smelt the wind, or seen a leaf fall, or touched their claws to the earth. . Dear, most-respect-worthy Warriors: you are Tricksters with Technologies that can Move Matter in ways impossible to the Rest of Us. You operate Technologies that could liberate the bodies and hearts and minds and beings, of almost fifty billion Members of the Family of All Creatures! Will you help us? I plead with you!" CooRa went silent. He looked down. "I have made my plea. I trust in the wisdom of your decision" he said.

Gooj and the Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys conferred - and decided. The decision was ´yes´. They would help CooRa and the Chicken Nation. They would take twenty-five hours to co-create a plan, at which-point they would report back to CooRa. In the meantime CooRa was to be the Honoured Guest of the Estate. He was brought Fresh Worms, and cracked corn; and plenty of Fresh Water from the Estate Wells. And he was shown a particularly-cosy branch, where he might-like to perch for-the-night.

The issue was not ´how´. That had been a quick-and-unanimous decision. They were all Keen to continue their training in Telekinesis - and what better-practice than moving Billions of Chickens with the power of their minds? No. The issue was: what to do with-them? Human city-centres, with millions of chickens scratching-about and squawking between the traffic - this was a scenario to be avoided. Nor were these chickens exactly Wild Survivalists. They didn´t know how to light a fire without a match, or improvise a shelter - so there was no question of re-introducing them to the hills. They wouldn´t last-the-night. Well, the-night maybe - but not the-month -

especially not in Winter, when Food is scarce.

And then: The Answer Came: give them to the Humans! Their Only Doubt was that there-were about eight billion Humans on the Earth, and about fifty billion Chickens

- so that was six-and-a-quarter Chickens Each. That was as lot of Chickens per Household! So the Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys factored-in Size of Dwelling Space, availability of direct access to land (such as a garden), and so on - and mapped-out a subtler and more-appropriate distribution. The Plan was Ready.

Finally, they chatted-excitedly, telepathically, with the Battalions of Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys of the Other Four Giant Orange Monkey Tribes of the Earth -

without whose participation a Plan of Such Global Scope would-be impossible. As-anticipated, Everyone was Enthusiastic - and twenty-five hours after saying they´d report-back in twenty-five hours, and Present a Plan - they did. CooRa trembled as he listened. He felt blessed! CooRa, Captain of the Elite Stealth Advanced-Ops Taoist 62

Chickens - a Ulysses among Chickens - crowed a magnificent Crow of Acceptance and deep Gratitude.

II

And so it-came-about that, that-very-night: Gooj and the Essex Estate Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys linked-their-minds with the Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys of the Jungle Tribe in South America (from whence their Recent Ancestors had set sail); and with the North African Desert Tribe Warriors; the Himalayan Mountain Tribe Warriors; and the Artic Ice Tribe Warriors. Mission Chicken was On.

Simultaneously, on all five continents, at the-agreed-time; All Five Battalions of Giant Orange Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys shot-forth an Iron Energy Arrow - an Arrow forged in the Fires of their Love for their little, feathery, pecky Poultry Brothers and Sisters and Soosters - an Arrow of Love, ablaze with light.

These five, brilliant, blazing Iron Love Energy Arrows flew-from their respective Battalions, on their respective Continents; pirouetting like Swallows through the Earthś Atmosphere - towards a Point in the Sky, about a-mile-above the town of Krasnoyarsk, in the Central Siberian Plains. .

There, the Five Iron Love Energy Arrows hovered; and there they were-videoed and went-viral: as they entered-resonance with Each Other - blazing as One United Loving Resolution to Liberate the Chicken Nation of Planet Earth. Then, suddenly - by some Trickster Warrior Energy Magic I know nothing-about: a Cloud the shape of a Jesterś Hat with Two Noses - the very-shape of the Trickster WarriorsÍnsignia; the-one all battalions on all continents had tattooed on the inside of their forearms), enveloped this United Blaze in an explosion of steam.

There, behind-the-scenes, inside the alchemical-steam, unvideoably: the Two Nosed Jester Hat Cloud boiled-up the Five Chicken Freedom Love Arrows - melding-them into One Single Arrow of impossibly-sharp, Pointed Loving Intent - one Arrow to Bind them All - and from A Steaming Bow in its magical insides, the Alchemical Hat Cloud released This One Arrow, This One Arrow of Chicken Love: up, up, up-and-in

- into the Earthś Emotional Atmosphere..

Every-window, of every Chicken Concentration Camp, in every Human Country; opened itself slowly - and stayed open. Most of the Humans who saw this happen, screamed "ghosts!", and ran. Then, next, by the Power of United Telekinetic Intention; the Five Trickster Battalions floated the Sleeping Chickens out-through those open Concentration Camp windows - and Set them Free! Streams of Sleeping Chickens floated over Human Cities - some dreaming, some not; some with one-eye-open, a bit 63

surprised. Humans looked-up, enthralled. They couldn´t Believe their Eyes! So They Didn´t. They muttered-things, like "it must be some sort of publicity trick." But it-wasn´t.

Back at the Essex Estate, HanuHanu felt all-of-this happening. He was half-asleep, at-the-time, under One of the Older Oaks. He smiled to himself: "Oh, no - now what are they up to? I wonder if itĺl End with Chickens?!" HanuHanu chuckled: he had visions of the Miraculous Arrival of an Elite Argentinian Cow Warrior, from a South American Underground Cow Liberation Movement - a Hero of the Herd, a Massive Carcass of a Creature - capable, perhaps, of generating earthquakes with its Ultrasonic Moo! Or perhaps it would be a Pig from Russia; a vigorous, jolly and deadly Vodka Pig Elite Warrior, sent from the only surviving encampment of Free Pigs, not far from Krasnoyarsk, in the Central Siberian Plains. HanuHanu chuckled a-bit-more. As he half-slept, and half-saw the billions of Sleeping Chickens Floating to Freedom. . away, away, away from those Concentration Camps. . HanuHanu felt joy. Then, somehow, as-it-does, just as he entered-sleep, his mind flashed-up the Reality of the lives-and-deaths of Most Cows in Argentina, and of Most Russian Pigs - so that, as he let go into sleep, he was rocked by sorrow, as-well-as joy..

III

Whoever the Human was, wherever they were: when they woke-up the-next-morning, and stretched; and re-situated themselves in their Conceptual Frameworks; and brushed their whoever-they-wereś teeth; and ate their whoever-they-wereś breakfast

- they would look-around and notice, a-chicken-or-two, perched on the Living Room Table, or on an armchair, or Nesting in an open Drawer in the Bedroom. There was a General Hoo Hah! Of course! Everywhere Humans chased Chickens - and Everywhere Chickens Screeched and Dodged. Soon the Humans realised: Every Home had Chickens! They put aside theorising as to the miraculous apparition of Millions of Chickens in Millions of Human Homes - not least-of-all because, No Human had-a-clue where they had came from, or why. Even Poirot and the Pink Panther were dumbfounded. So rather than talk; they acted - and set about settling the Chickens.

Hen Houses were made out of - anything! Humans botched-together what they could, and went-online to find out what Chickens ate. Luckily, it was just-about-anything.

Some Hen Houses were in the Utilitarian Style, built for efficiency. Some were in the Stoned Style, shaped like Amanita Muscaria Mushrooms, and painted with brightly coloured stencils of Jimi Hendrix and Janis Joplin. The originality and diversity of the Hen Houses was impressive. So impressive, in fact, that as with anything that impresses Humans: they make a competition out of it - and a year later, the first World Hen House Building Olympics were hosted by the U.S.A., in Las Vegas.

64

Some Humans kept the Chickens at-home. "They seem happy enough", the Humans would say, as-if asking for reassurance. But OF COURSE they were happy! They Felt Free! The Chicken Nation had Been Liberated from a worldwide web of high-tech, high-security Concentration Camps. Of course they were happy! Yes, there was Trauma - but there was also Celebration! "Could this be true?" the Chickens would cluck, "could The Nightmare really be-over?" In apartment buildings, Chickens could be seen waddling and strutting up-and-down stairwells, along corridors - visiting their friends. "I never had a friend before!", new Chicken Friends would confide to Each Other.

Some Humans didn´t-like Chicken Shit in the corridors, and put up Ćlear Up After Your ChickenŚigns. There were íncidents´ with Cats. Some Chickens became Human Suppers. Some stopped breathing, as-if-relieved, and were buried for the worms. Some Had Chicks.. And in this haphazard, organic way: the fifty-billion Chickens of the World - having been-rescued-from The Camps - came to live-and-die; mostly happily-ever-after - as guests and friends of the Human Family..

And so-it-ends, if anything-ends: the Tale of the Liberation of the Chickens. . Thanks to CooRa, Gooj, and Five Battalions of Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys: the Chicken Nation of the Earth Floated Out of Hell, and Landed in Heaven. . A Heaven where there-was real air, and light, and space to peck-about-in; a Heaven where worms wiggled freely beneath the surface soil; a Heaven where one-had Chicken Friends and Lovers; a Heaven where one could Roost in Undisturbed Meditation. . It was a varied vegan, vegetarian and carnivorous Heaven, in which one-took oneś-chances! But it was real-life; and real-death - it was Reality! And Reality was Beautiful and Exciting! The Chicken Nation of the Earth saw Beauty Everywhere - as-one-does, when one has Known Profound Ugliness.

IV

The Concentration Camps themselves became Asylums and Therapy Centres, for the Humans who´d worked-there. They were dark, gothic, Adams Family-like places. Evil Seeped, through the cracks in the brickwork. Here there were minds- torn by inconsolable shame, and tortured rememberings of Chicken Eyeballs, and Piles of Feet without Bodies. The Healing was Slow. And yet, slowly-slowly, the Ex Concentration Camp Staff DID heal. And one-by-one, they´d emerge at the front-doors of these horror-soaked institutions, suitcase in hand (owning nothing more) - self-forgiving, humbled, cleansed; ready to begin a new life-and-death as a Decent Human Being -

perhaps Even as a Vegetarian.

CooRa Himself became a Legend. The story of his adventure-laden journey from China to the Giant Orange Monkey Estate in England; and the story of Everything That 65

Ensued - would be told and retold, over-and-again, by Chicken Minstrels through the Ages. The Legend of the Taoist Master Captain CooRa, would become an Epic of Chicken Nation Culture - a Spiritual Epic of courage, species-love, and honour. It was a Liberation Story; a story of Hope Against Hope - and Heroism, and Rebirth. It made the Minds of Chickens, happy-ever-after.

66

Part 2

Division

17

The Battle of Merchandise

I

isney Studios had known-about the Giant Orange Monkey Tribe Estate in D Ess ex, England for almost-a-decade; made innumerable attempts to strike movie deals With Us - and been-rebuffed with an ever-louder "no!". Angry, especially with HanuHanu, they took their revenge, as-it-seemed To Them, in their 2016 version of The Jungle Book - in which a supposed-ancestor Of Ours was portrayed, not as Wise and Kind, but as a Megalomaniac.

They also now took their revenge, it-seemed To Us; by (in shrewd-anticipation of the United Nations Commissioned Lecture Series), producing a Merchandise Range of Baseball Caps, Keyrings, Mugs, Orange Latex Monkey Masks and Hairy Gloves ("buy a mask, get a pair of gloves for free"); Absurdly-Oversize T-Shirts; Giant Plastic Bananas that shrieked, Monkey-like, when squeezed; Plastic Wind-up Elite Trickster Warrior Monkey Toy Soldiers; Limited-Edition Packets of Monkey Nuts; Resin Figurines of Me with Little Wings and An Enormous, Priapic Erection; Figurines of Professor Koshofu looking white as chalk and utterly-nutty; Figurines of Gooj depicted as The Mad Hatter (predictably); and of course, Figurines of HanuHanu made-to-look-ridiculous, knocking himself on the head with his own Sceptre-Mace. Tons of Junk of-this-sort was disgorged upon a willingly-gullible Humanity.

However - many Humans objected to this derisive, satirising Merchandising Bonanza, and began-to Make Their Own - initially in their back-garden sheds, their garages, and their basement workshops. Then, once it had become-clear Disney had No Contract with our Giant Orange Monkey Tribe (that is to say, no Legal Merchandising Rights), the Factory Production Lines began to roll, particularly in East Europe, South America and China. New Merchandise entered the marketplace - Merchandise that made me look mischievous yet saintly; Gooj loveably flamboyant; the Trickster Warriors disciplined and noble; Koshofu erudite; Besheesha luminous; and HanuHanu god-like. .

Which hat to buy? The Nutty Koshofu baseball cap, or the Erudite Koshofu Trilby?

Everywhere Human Beings went, they were faced with A Choice: A Choice to Join the Great Human Turnabout, and Come Out as a Member of the Family of All Creatures; or to Champion Not Changing - as-if it were a virtue.

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It was A Choice to Return to the Family of All That Exists; to Rejoin Existence Itself

- The Mysterium Tremendum. . Or, alternatively, to Carry-on Clinging-on to oneś Cultureś Certainties and Symbols and Systems, and thus: rather than Living and Dying in the living-dying World - living inside, and in-service-of, the Reality created-by Oneś Culture. And in-this-case: inside, and in-service-of: a unified, global; homicidal, suicidal culture! The Merchandise a Human Being bought - if ever it had not been -

now felt like a Poignant Political Decision.

And the Merchandising became more and more polarised. Homepages of flagrantly-amoral HanuHanu Merchandise Websites - as happy-go-lucky as arms-dealers - would offer the option: ćlick here for Anti-HanuHanu Merchandise´, and ćlick here for Pro-HanuHanu Merchandise´. Restaurants, bars and coffee shops offering Only-Organic, Only-Local Food would use Pro-HanuHanu serviettes, mugs, cups and parasols.

´McDonalds´, famous for their stunning proposal to convert The Hallowed Rainforest into ´Hamburgerland´ - a vast, Amazonian, Hamburger-themed Amusement Park; as-well-as ´Burger King´, World Cow Chopping Champions - known to get up-to five-thousand Burgers from a single Cow; and ´Kentucky Fried Chicken´, whose desserts of chocolate-coated chicks, have a reputation for being-crispy, crunchy and sweet - all gave-away Boxes of Anti-HanuHanu paraphernalia with every Childrenś Meal.

Humans began to cluster in Smouldering groups on Street Corners, and on streets with No Corners. Fights flared-up between Humans in full-body Gorilla Suits - the ones that came with the Plastic Sceptre-Mace Water Guns.

II

I don´t know what The Popeś intentions were, I truly don´t - but, at-this-point, with whatever motive, The Great Pontiff issued a decree reaffirming the Catholic Doctrinal Position that Human Beings were not Animals; and that Human Beings should therefore Not Allow The Monkeys to usurp their position at the Top of the Food Chain. Which was just more Fat on the Fire.

Almost every Human Being was now either in fancy dress as a Giant Orange Monkey (or something vaguely-simian); or, at the-very-least, displaying an item of HanuHanu Merchandise that proclaimed their allegiance. The Human Family was poised on the edge of Global Street War.

Would No Politician or Guru or Celebrity intervene? Was-there No Human Being on Earth, compassionate and empathic enough; and influential enough - to be able to neutralise the tension. It seemed there was-not. Or was there?

69

A Mr. Donald Trump Esquire, of Trump Towers - a man appointed by The Tightness in The Human Psyche to shock-and-entertain upon The Stage of Human Politics; a man capable of antics to rival even Goojś most preposterous buffoonery - responded startlingly to the Popeś Infallible Anti-Animal Decree. The Heroic Mr Trump opened his heart on television - first to-America, and then-to the rest of The Human World..

Donald shared his Love of Monkeys, Chimpanzees and Apes - telling The Human Family, in-detail, about how - as a child - he´d cried to see Monkeys Imprisoned, that first time he´d gone to a Zoo with his Dad, Frederick Christ Trump (Fred).

Fascinatingly, perhaps synchronistically, as Donald, eyes red and swollen with emotion, was recalling his childhood Trip to the Zoo with Fred - a Cat jumped onto his Lap.

The Cat then meowed-at Donald, right between the eyes - and Donald could hold-back No Longer! Tears Burst from his tear Ducts like Kindness that has been Squashed for Centuries. A black, tar-like substance spouted from his ducts - and, at that-very-moment, Fred, buried long-ago in All Faiths Cemetery, New York, was released from a Generational Curse.

Donald pleaded with the Human Family to look into Each Otherś Eyes; to Be Witness to Each Otherś Beauty. "Take off your Monkey Masks! Toss aside your Merchandise!"

he implored, "See Each Other! You are All Children of The Great Mystery! Be neither Pro-nor-Anti Monkey! Be pro-Human! But be pro-Human - not in opposition to the Other Species. . Be Proud to be Human in Communion with the Other Species!"

Donald tore at his Million Dollar Bulletproof Presidential Jacket. He wrenched his Million Dollar Presidential Tie from his puffy-red-neck, and threw it to-the-ground.

Then he knelt and kissed The Earth. Raising his head, almost in slow-motion: Donaldś Eyes met the Camera in deepest Intimacy. He had found Peace. He looked long-and-steady into the Heart of the Human Family. "I love you!" he muttered, again and again and again - gripped, it seemed, by a state of almost-unbearable bliss.

Perhaps, had Mahatma Gandhi, or Nelson Mandela, or Martin Luther King, said the same; or wept the same; or similarly-revealed the Depths of Tenderness they felt towards Monkeys - The Human Family would not have listened, as They Did: to Donald. So stunned Were They, so conceptually-short-circuited, so aghast; their expectations and prejudices in such-disarray; that in a Daze Beyond Mind, they just-let-fall the Symbols of their Animosities - leaving the streets littered with Monkey Masks, Hairy Gloves, Giant Plastic Bananas.. Monkey Nuts scattered everywhere..

Saint Donald, as he soon came to be-known, after a suspiciously-quick canonisation by The Very Vatican he had initially opposed, saved-the-day! Saint Donald Saved the Day!

And saved, at least temporarily, the Human World! The next dayś World Media Headlines read ´President Saint Donald Trumpś Tender Heart Saves The World!´

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18

The Psi Ops Teams

I

t the Tightnessś Military Facilities, the ShunShunShoola DNA-Dodging A Bull

ets were being individually spat-upon, and Polished with Silk Handkerchieves.

The Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys sniffed the air. Although sat-within the Essex Estate; they could smell the Malevolence Fomenting, as the Tightness Military spat and polished. They could smell it; literally, because - due-to their initiatory rites, intense disciplines, and inexplicable-grace - these Elite Trickster WarriorsŚecond Noses - the equivalent of Third Eyes in Humans - were unblocked and fully-functioning. This enabled-them to discern-in-detail vast olfactory landscapes; and they could all Smell Every Detail of Activity at the Tightnessś Military Facilities. .

Sniffing stronger-still, they inhaled-the-aroma of the entire Energy Field of the Facility

- the Field of Energy Currents along-which the many Military Personnel were being-moved - the way cars follow roads..

Smelling in Meditative Detachment, the Elite Trickster Warrior MonkeysŚecond Noses twitched as they breathed-in the Stench of the Field. The odour of Disdain and Disregard wafted-up their Second NosesŃostrils - as offensive as burning rubber. And there, in the Tightness Military Facility Olfactory Foreground. . They all recoiled..

Ooof!. . As nauseating as rotting meat: The Stink of Hate! A Hatred, whatsmore, they could all sense, poised-to-pounce - upon the Giant Orange Monkey Essex Estate!

Meanwhile, on every Landmass, Tightness Psi-Ops Teams continued to Unroll Project Moridango (Project Monkey-Ridiculous-Dangerous). As unoffendable as their own computer software - they gaily tossed seeds of Paranoid Propaganda into the-naive-soil of the Human Psyche - spending daily budgets-of-millions on Social Media Manipulation: on Twitter, Instagram, and so on - but mainly on Facebook Posts and Ads. . Videos like "Monkeys Having Fun!", "How Monkeys Can Be Safe Pets", "The Monkeys and The Rothschilds: The Simian Conspiracy", and "The Dark Contract: Monkeys and Devil Worship" all went viral.

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II

I see no sights, but I do see feelings and thought: I see the Dreamscape inside Every Creatureś waking world. And with my seeing-unseeing eyes, I looked out-over the high-tech-minded Humans who peopled these Psi-Ops Teams - Humans with the keyboard skills of virtuoso pianists - and saw professionally morally-vacant, modern techno-mercenaries - convinced Their Fear and Hatred were their Own. .

Like almost every-other Modern Human on Earth - these advertising-executives and programmers, and graphic-designers and film-makers, brushed their techno-teeth, ate their techno-breakfasts - and went-to-work by car, or train, or rickshaw. They´d Kiss their Families Goodbye for-the-day, with love - utterly-unaware they had Kissed their Freedom Goodbye long-ago. . due-to having heard from-the-moment they could hear -

even, therefore, while in the womb (and perhaps before-that) - and believed since even-before they could think: that They would-never-be the centre of Their own Worlds. .

That Authority would Forever be External. . And that the Best Explanation of anyoneś Unique, Direct Experience would-always-come from The Outside; from an External Centre - from a President, or Philosopher, or Sports Star, or Emperor, or Pope - who Never Had (nor Ever Would) Experience the Unique Experience one was Experiencing.

They were utterly-unaware of having been socialised-into this Belief in Dependence.

They boarded their buses, and hopped-onto their bikes, and walked the pavements, to work in their thousands - some happily, some begrudgingly, but all of them (in the final analysis) acceptingly - all of them now (ironically, tragically) in-service-of the very Tightness Psi Ops Propaganda that had eradicated their Forgotten Ancestors´

Freedom.

Now, as they assumed their places in their photo and film studios, at their morning team meetings, and at the screens on their office desks - full of approved thoughts, and approved passions - every High-Tech Tightness Psi Ops Team affirmed and perpetuated The Myth of Dependency upon External Authority. And ´dependency´ -

whether enforced by force, or by advertising - is just a Kind Way of Saying énslavement´.

Enslaved and perpetuating enslavement, they were: Genuinely Unaware they had somewhere, somehow, sacrificed the exquisiteness of living-and-dying in their Own Unique Experience; Genuinely Unaware they had been-plundered of their own-direct experience of Blissful Belonging inside Infinite Creativity; and Genuinely Unaware that the Propaganda of the Tightness had deleted their birthright from their consciousness.. Each-and-every Psi Ops Team Member felt, to me, in-that-moment, as innocently-complicit with the Tightness´ Propagandising as the penniless peasant who sold carrots and cigarettes to the Guards at the Gates of Auschwitz.

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19

Garangula Gets in the Groove

I

ost-evenings there were now informal Tribe Gatherings on our beautiful MP rivate Estate. We gathered in the forest clearings, upon the dry brown leaves.

I felt so peaceful, eve-after-eve, among the different Tree Families - as they slowed-down their Heartbeats for the Winter. We were choosing, it seemed, not-to-gather at The Amphitheatre, where - due to the Ongoing Lecture Series - I think a lot Of Us felt, there lingered a subtle, confused Human Presence.

That night, as-always, there was joking and jumping-about; Everyone spoke at once; Some Of Us were enjoying Boisterous Sex - and Others were debating Metaphysics.

Garangula and Tunundum were Whistling Icaros - and more-and-more Creatures of All Sorts were arriving, as-if-called - at the Edges of the Clearing. .

Garangula is a Renaissance Monkey - Tribe Shaman, Medicine Man, Scholar most certainly; Composer and Musician; Microbiologist, Librarian and Magician. He is tall and thin and bony, and has Eyes like a Hawk. He was sitting alongside Besheesha, my Mum, and Professor Koshofu. He and the Professor love to Debate Together, and Make Love.

We call Tunundum, ´The Voice of the Forest´. Sheś our Estate Forest-Garden Co-Ordinator. Her role is to fit our need-for-food Into The Forest. Not the Other Way Round. Her job is to listen to the Whole Forest Population, but especially to The Tree Community, the Forest Elders. She seeks, for example, their feedback on vegetables or fruits she wants to introduce into The Forest. Or she seeks their advice when a herb, or a flower, seems dispirited, or forlorn. . Tunundum is the daughter of a Monkey and a Gnome. She is a spectacular sculptor, firework-display artist, street-painter, and potter - and she brings her gift of Sensitivity to Beauty to the Forest. In fact, Beauty, I think, guides her more-powerfully than even her responsibility For our Food!

Many Creatures Gathered that-night; tugged-there by the Disquiet in the Estate Mind

- Giant Orange Monkeys, and many-of the Many Other Creatures on the Estate. I felt an anxiousness about. For example: there were lots of Birds perched-on, and fluttering-about, HanuHanuś shoulders - which was something they-often-did when they were In Anxiety - coming-and-going; taking it in-turns to Be Comforted.

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Almost-imperceptibly, The Whole Estate was-arriving! The Oak Family, the Birch Family; the Entire Tree Community was-arriving - slowly. The Bushes and Plants and Grasses were also on their-way.. The Magpie Tribe and the Sparrow Tribe, and the Whole Federation of Bird Flocks; the Ant Nation and the Spider Nation, and The Whole International Commonwealth of Insects - Everyone Was Arriving! A Small Shoal of the Fish of Lake Wet had leapt from the Lake into the eco-jacuzzi - to Be There. The Squirrel Community, the Rabbit Tribe, the Fox Nation; the Badger, Deer and Bat Societies; the Mouse, Polecat and Hedgehog Cultures were all entering the forest clearing. . The Merpeople, the Elf and Sprite Communities of Light, and the Rock and Stone and Pebble Societies of Silence and Night, All of Them - and many-many other interwoven Creature Civilisations, both visible and invisible to Human Eyes - had all Come to the Clearing - disturbed by The Discomfort humming, in the Energy Field of the Estate.

And the steadily pulsing, energetic source of this discomfort, I sense we-all-felt, was The Amphitheatre. Of course, the Collective Discomfort of the Whole Estate, and of the Family of All Creatures, was not something-physical - but many Of Us, it seemed, were feeling-rejecting of The Amphitheatre: because it was There that HanuHanu -

my Champion, and, I believe, the Champion of the Whole Tribe - was Making Love with a Humanity that Didn´t Know How To.

Later On, Garangula would Dance this Discomfort - for all to See and Feel. Personally

- from chats I´d had, here-and-there; and from my own sense of the Energy Field - I felt The Discomfort was this: that the United Nations Commissioned Lecture Series,

"Wakey-Wakey, Little Cousins", despite its impeccable intentions - and even despite it being prophesied, millennia-ago, by the Wisest Giant Orange Monkeys of Old - might-still, nevertheless, very-possibly, be generating counter-productive results.

I felt-it like-this: that although their Respect for HanuHanu was unwavering, the Inhabitants of the Estate were concerned that the Lecture Series might: (a) be actually understood and acted-upon by such a small Community within the Human Family, as to make it pointless (in terms of Helping Humanity not extinct-itself - and, of course, so many Of Us with-it); and (b) that the Lecture Series was polarising Humanity into Two Rival Factions: the Goodies (the Humans who wanted to live-and-die as Equals within the Family of All Creatures), and the Baddies (the Humans who wanted to Stay On Top); or, seen-in-reverse, the Goodies (the Humans who were Defending the Human Species´ hard-won evolutionary status), and the Baddies (the soft-bellied dreamers who´d sit-by, while the Earth was Overrun by Giant Mad Genius Monkeys -

more dangerous, even, probably, than A.I.). But however one might name-or-judge Each Side - it was the Splitting of the already-splintered Human Family, that was Concerning the Creatures of the Estate.

74

Furthermore, the Family of All Creatures were quite politically-savvy; particularly Alliance for the Dignity of All Creatures Elders, like Slip and Slide, the Beaver Brothers

- who were aware of the Powerful Energies that swirled inside the Tight Human Psyche: Powerful and Destructive Energies like: the Self Betrayal to Belong; the Passion to Be Right, or Good; the Ache to Be Someone; the Fear of, well, Everything; and So On -

Energies that paraded-themselves as innocent-enough, but which were Beyond their Human Control; that possessed them, and Lost them to Themselves; that always-spiralled and spiralled - and spun-them into tumult and war, grotesque indifference, and unspeakable horror.

As recognised Media Experts and Consultants, the Beaver Brothers were well-placed to explain how Human Beings became Enslaved by Tightness; and more-specifically, how now, in the current situation, with HanuHanu Speaking, media coverage of the Lecture Series was already being manipulated worldwide by The Tightness, and used as a Catalyst for Conflict..

The Beavers Brothers showed The Gathering a selection of YouTube Videos that were supposedly Pro-HanuHanu, but which incited holier-than-thou outrage and fanaticism - and Anti-HanuHanu YouTube Videos showing forged Giant Orange Monkey Notebooks with plans to turn the Earth into the Planet of the Apes - similarly inciting violence. Not All of the Creatures could have put all-of-this into words as-well-as the Beaver Brothers, but the Whole Gathering Understood: the Plan of the Tightness was War in the Human World. Why? Because a War Wrought Humanity would justify Absolute Enforced Control; what they-would-call ´the Tough Dove of Peace´ - even though Doves aren´t like that, at all.

In fact, an insider in the Media Consultancy World had told the Beaver Brothers that The Tightness had already designed the Logo. It was-to-be a Dove with Gold Gangsta Teeth; One Leg held-high, claw-clenched in a Fist of Solidarity.

"Why do they Want to Control?" asked A Tiny Voice from where the Rabbits were sitting.

"Because Tightness feeds on Fear" said Slip.

"And Fear seeks to appease-itself though Control" said Slide.

"What are they afraid of?" asked the Tiny Voice, confused.

"Everything!" said Slip.

"Existence!" said Slide.

"But They can´t Control Everything" complained The Tiny Voice, still-confused - "Itś The Great White Rabbit who Controls Everything!"

"Indeed" said Slip, kindly "it is an Impossible Aim."

"But Fear is not Famous for its clear thinking", added Slide.

"Oh dear!" said The Tiny Voice, sadly - as it cognised the potential consequences of 75

this Human addiction to fear.

"It all bodes bad" the Beaver Brothers sighed; placing the palms of their paws upon their Hearts; their eyes downcast - full-of-foresight of the suffering on the horizon.

"The Humans are already alienated and dangerous enough!" said Slip.

"If The Tightness succeeds - That Bodes Bad!" said Slide, "That Bodes Bad for Us All. ."

II

It is difficult-to-describe the Atmosphere in which we Gather. The feel of our Tribe Gatherings is so-different to-that in-which Humans Gather. Firstly, thereś our Relationship with Place. We live-and-die Outside. Outside is Our Home. We don´t ever feel we ´go out´, or ´go back home´. Human Beings tend to live-and-die Inside.

Human Beings tend to not-feel Outside as Home. You tend to ´go-out-into nature´ -

for a walk, or a picnic, or a hike; to sow or reap; to mine or to drill; to study, to make-love, to Bathe in Beauty, perhaps - but-then you Go Back Inside; you Go Back Home.

So this is a first-difference.

Imagine the Forest was your bedroom, decorated with Trees and Bushes and Plants - a Living-Dying Decor, teeming with the activities of the Family of All Creatures; imagine you awoke-in such a Forest Bedroom - and yawned and stretched with erotic-satisfaction; morning after morning - sometimes hot, sometimes cold; sometimes dry, sometimes wet. Imagine you lived-and-died contentedly Outside! Well if you CAN, Little Cousins, youĺl have Something of a Sense of the Atmosphere in which we, the Essex Estate Giant Orange Monkey Tribe, Gathered with the Other Creatures of the Estate on-that-night - in fact, in-which We Always Gather: in-which we live-and-die.

We were At Home - Under our September Moon Sky Ceiling. We were gathered in Our Living-and-Dying Room.

And there is perhaps a second difference: that although we feel the Forest is óurĹiving-and-Dying Room - no Giant Orange Monkey has a sense of a Privately Owned Home. . What-you-call Óutsideís Our Home, and Our Outside Home belongs to no-one-and-everyone. We live-and-die with a sense of All Sharing the Same Home. No Giant Orange Monkey could ever be-a-guest in another Giant Orange Monkeyś Home

- because Everyoneś Home is the Same Home! We live-and-die Together. We are One Family. We are Five Tribes, Here on Earth; and many-more beyond - but we are One Family. Even when we visit Another Tribe, we don´t go to Their Home; we go to where they happen-to-be within The Family Home - which is Everywhere!

And then, of course, thereś the crucial difference: you Knew and Felt all-of-this As Babies, but Do No Longer. . The Babies of Every Species are irresistibly-loving. They are Fully Authentic - fully-truly-expressively responsive in their Unique Experience.

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They have No Shame. They are tiny and vulnerable, enlightened and free. But in the Human Species, due to chronic, educational Synaptic Mismanagement over Millennia, this irresistible-loving, authentic, enlightened freedom is socialised-out-of Human Children - so that now, as Adults, when you Go Outside - you never quite get-here, and youŕe always looking-over your shoulder. .

Giant Orange Monkey Tribes try-not-to socialise-out their BabiesÁuthenticity. We Endeavour to Educate by Example - by being Authentic Adult Giant Orange Monkeys

- so that our Giant Orange Monkey Babiesínnate authenticity is met by-our-own.

They never get socialised-out of their Unique Experiencing, and remain-adept at Expressing themselves Authentically. We feel it is our Responsibility to our Species, to facilitate-the-transmission of Shameless Authenticity from generation-to-generation.

So imagine Us Now: at Home Outside, at Home in the Forest.. Nothing is Anyoneś..

The Innocence and Authenticity of Childhood still-vital In Us. Imagine Us Now: living-and-dying Together in our shared Home under the Moon - a Home we-ourselves Did Not Build..

III

Envoys from the Bat Nation and the Owl Community, from the Cat Nation and the Shrew Community, all Crossed the Clearing with Messages of Concern for Garangula, Gooj, Besheesha, HanuHanu, and the other Giant Orange Monkey Tribe Elders. .

Creatures of the Soil came, Creatures of the Air, Creatures of the Waters, and Creatures Invisible to all-but A Very Few. The air was full of Magic and Worry.

HanuHanu was Covered in Children, as usual - Birds on his Shoulders, Deer curled at his ankles. I was seated near-him - my Moonlight Quiver rested between my left-shoulder bone and my left-wing bone; my Bow, and one of my Arrows of Kryptonite and Love in one hand; my Scribeś Plume, in the other. Besheesha was there; with her two sisters, Rumpum and Dililane - the oozing, undulating Sex Sisters - one-of-whom has a very Big Penis; and who are the Adolescent Giant Orange MonkeysŚexuality Mentors1. Koshofu and Garangula were debating heartily; Gooj and The Trickster Warriors were as-alert-as Spiders; Tunundum and the Monkey Gardeners were slightly-drunk on the Nettle Beer they´d brewed; Sindrani, Kintu and Dalu were Making Love; Lucy and her best friend, Bob, were strumming Classic Giaoram folk songs - and many, many badgers and hedgehogs, bees and wasps and seals and starfish

- were just hanging-out... all curious as-to-how the Wave of Concern flowing through the Estate Energy Field would-unfurl.

Garangula walked slowly to the Centre of the Clearing. When he walked slowly, to me, it felt-like he was walking on stilts! The Community of Trees waved for respect. The 77

moon smiled. His beady bird-eyes surveyed his audience from a-great-distance. In his right hand, his Shamanic Staff; in his left, his Wand. Around his shoulders Garangula wore the Fur of his Deceased Father, Shaman Before Him - a Monumental Monkey, a Giant among Giants - famed for his courage-and-humility in Dimensions Hardly Known, even to the Five Giant Orange Monkey Tribes of the Earth.

"May the Voice of the Tribes speak through me!" he prayed, lowering and raising his head, trance-like. "May the Voice of the Tribes be the Voice of Creation, and May the Voice of the Tribes Speak through me!" The Family of All Creatures joined him, echoing his words, and spontaneously co-creating a complex jazz rhythm - slapping the earth with their claws-and-paws, rubbing antennae, clapping wings. . "May the Voice of the Tribes be the Voice of the Indefinable, Magical Totality, and May the Voice of the Tribes Speak through me!" Garangula Got in the Groove.

The Giant Orange Monkeys were on-their-feet. They were-like ecstatic Born Again Christians, Lost in a Hallelujah. On-and-on they sang-and-danced; Garangula improvising prayers - jittering-about at the Centre of the Clearing, like a Giant Stick Insect. The Giant Orange Monkey Tribe - arms around each otherś shoulders - circled Garangula at-great-speed. Between the Monkeys in the Middle, and the Trees that edged the clearing, the Beetles sang-and-danced with the Snails; the Rats sang-and-danced with the Mice - and the Invisible Creatures sang-and-danced with Each Other.

Then, just as the music had-arisen gently, spontaneously - it gently, spontaneously slowed-and-softened to its Own Conclusion.

In the hush that followed, Garangula spoke quietly. "Am I concerned that Human Pollution will not biodegrade for eons?" he asked. "Of course I am!" he replied. "Am I concerned that Human genetic modification of the freely-given Fruits of the Earth will have weird, deforming, uncontrollable genetic-consequences not just-for Humans, but for Us All - not for generations-beyond-counting, but for-forever?" he asked. "Of course I am!" he replied.

"But on this sweet, moonlit evening, Beloved Tribe and Beloved Family of All Creatures, I bring you another, perhaps-more-immediate concern: the concern I believe many Of Us feel as a Ripple of Disquiet in the Energy Field of the Estate. It is a concern related to our Noble and Surrendered HanuHanuś United Nations Sponsored Lecture Series, ´Wakey, Wakey, Little Cousins´..

As the Lectures progress the Human Audience expands exponentially - but how many Humans are Understanding and Applying his Words? How many Human Beings are not Too Synaptically Challenged to-be-able-to receive Dear HanuHanuś Simple End to their Woes?

78

And will not even-those for whom HanuHanuś Speaking makes sense, make A Belief out-of-it? A Belief to self-define-by. A Belief to help-feel limited and solid and safe. A Belief with-which to make Instant Friends and Enemies! How many Humans have the Synaptic Capability to Not Do This - and truly-fully live-and-die in the Honesty of Subjectivity and Love?"

Garangula glanced-respectfully, and slightly-romantically, at Professor Koshofu, as-if to reference-him: "If not-even a Hundred Human Beings are actually, physically, Synaptically Capable of fully-receiving Dear HanuHanuś Heartfelt Offering; if there is, therefore, a high probability that ´Wakey, Wakey, Little Cousins´ will become a Catalyst for Conflict, and little more - then should it continue, or not? This, I feel, Beloved Family, is the question at the heart of the Disquiet that Pervades the Estate. .

Beloved Family, I have been Breathing this Question. I have flown through Subtle Dimensions where I have sought-audience with the Mountains Themselves; I have communed with Our Ancestors, and the Many Spirits of the Many Species; I have rolled-about in dustbowls, and swum in the Waters of the Sphinx. . But the question is complex. And in This Great Cosmic Mystery - when do the Wise Advise; and when do-they-not?

So I come before-you only to Name the Question - I hope to your satisfaction - in order that, By This Naming, the Question might-become more-present In Us; and having-become more-present In Us, occupy more-space in us - and thus become more-likely to unfold in spaciousness. ."

Every Creature Nation made the sound it makes when-it-agrees. Some even-made the sound they make when-they-cheer. There was No Debate. Just A Naming. We were more-deeply united now.. There had been A Concern we had been holding individually - or within our Species Nations, perhaps - but now, as Garangula tapped his wand against his staff; in a lazy, bluesy rhythm; and bodies began to sway-again -

and we looked-down at our feet and claws and roots and paws moving As One - I sensed we-all-felt a Common Concern; and that we were Holding it Together.

Notes

1. In Adolescence, Giant Orange Monkeys have many Sexual Partners. Itś a loving free-for-all! But, as-well-as this unstructured exploration, they receive Real Sex Education from the Tribeś Tantric Guru. In the HanuHanu Tribe, we have Double Gurus: Rumpum and Dililane, the 79

Sex Sisters (my two Aunties). They take the teenagers through a detailed and disciplined curriculum of Real Sex Education. There are no diagrams. Itś hands-on. In fact, itś bodies-on. .

They practice the Art of Loving Touch. . They practice The Art of Śtaying With´ the Energy in Oneś Body - with particular reference to The Art of Śtaying With´, as Waves of Bestial Passion crash upon oneś consciousness.. They practice ever-more-subtle precision in the Art of Giving Oneself; and in the Art of Receiving Other. . They Practice the Art of Oneness.

And so, you could say: through meticulous, painstaking, rigorous, arduous, Shaolin-like, full-on, full-bodied Sex Education - the Adolescents of our Tribes are Educated for life-and-death. .

You could say that (to the extent they aren´t-already), they Become Experts in present-moment Loving Choice. As adult Giant Orange Monkeys, they may-or-may not have many Sexual Partners. That, for us, is Of No Consequence. What, for us, Is Of Consequence - is the Joy we See in Them - as they come-to-feel, as the Human Mystic Rumi wrote: that "as you make love with life, so life will make love with you".

"How did Rumi know this?" you might wonder! Interestingly: orphaned as a child, and raised-up by the Giant Orange Monkeys of the Saharan Desert Tribe; as a teenager Rumi attended Real Sex Education Classes religiously - before, one-day, wandering-off, Eastwards, In Bliss 80

20

Things Humans Ask

have noticed that when you DuckDuckGo ´HanuHanu´, a menu of popularly-posed questions appears - and that Humans who aren´t-quite-sure are answering.

I

So firstly: "Is HanuHanu the only five-metre-tall Giant Orange Monkey, or are they all five-metres-tall?" We are all, more or less, five-metres-tall. Garangula, for example, is slightly taller, and Gooj slightly shorter, but we are all approximately five metres tall.

How Big Is That Really? Think of the Na´vi, the Blue Humanoids of Pandora, the ones asked to perform in the film Ávatar´ - they are only three-metres-tall! And we are much, much broader across the chest!

"Is HanuHanu the only Giant Orange Monkey with Superpowers?" Well, because Everyone has sex with Everyone, Every baby is Everyoneś. And because HanuHanu has sex with Everyone, the Divine DNA in his Semen has been dancing-and-singing in the Tribe Womb since its inception. . This is why, we think, different Giant Orange Monkey Children exhibit different Superpowers.

Which Superpowers? Well HanuHanu is Hanumanś Son, and it is well-known from the Vedic Scriptures, particularly from the Epic Ramayana, that (along-with a Potpourri of Other Powers): the Great Hanuman can fly; lift mountains; cook a curry using only his tail; make himself larger than the largest, heavier than the heaviest, and lighter than the lightest; elicit obedience from whomever he wishes; stay awake during Television Quiz Shows - and grant any boon he wishes.

This is why, we surmise, some Baby Giant Orange Monkeys can fly (while others can´t-quite - and sometimes, while theyŕe still learning, need to be helped down from very high branches). . This is why others are Cordon Bleu Curry Chefs; others can lift lorries with one hand, like Superman; and others are Bestowers of Boons, like Mary Poppins..

From this there often follows another question: "If HanuHanuś DNA, the DNA of the Lineage of Hanuman, is to a greater-or-lesser extent in the Blood of every Giant Orange Monkey in the HanuHanu Tribe; and every Giant Orange Monkey therefore A Descendent of the Great Hanuman, "why is only HanuHanu referred to as Hanumanś Direct Descendent?"

I would imagine, with his background in Microbiology, that Garangula could give you a more genetically-informed answer, but I can give you The Short One: when HanuHanu first-entered This World - in the South American Jungles, not far from the 81

Lost City of Plastic Reconfiguration Facility, long before The Arrival of Professor Jones - Hanuman Himself materialised at the Scene of the Birth, like a Holographic Angel, and pronounced him Just That: His Direct Descendent. His Son.

His Mother, A Giant Orange Monkey named Ayli, who was over-four-hundred years old at-the-time, and post-menopausal, had endured a lot of good-natured teasing throughout her pregnancy. When Hanuman declared HanuHanu His, she smiled at Hanuman politely, then turned to the Whole Tribe, and broke-down in tears, laughing.

"I told you so! I told you!" she told them, and rolled about clutching her Divine Monkey Baby to her luscious, milky, post-menopausal Bosom of Love. Then she held up the baby for the Whole Tribe to see its oh-so-cute, teeny-weeny four little arms - already holding a teeny-weeny Divine Sceptre-Mace of Radiant Power in one of them, and a teeny-weeny Giant Love Lotus of Unbearable Beauty in another.

Finally, there is a question about the Leadership and Political Structure of our Giant Orange Monkey Tribe, that pops-up in all-sorts-of shapes: "Is HanuHanu the Supreme Leader of the HanuHanu Tribe?", "Is HanuHanu a Dictator?", "Is HanuHanu more like a King, or a President?", "How does HanuHanu Rule his Tribe?", "Who decides the Rules of the Giant Monkey Tribe?", and so on. .

I want to speak about this because, again, to really get a sense of the Atmosphere of our Gatherings, I feel itś important you know that in our language, in Giaoram, we have no word like Führer, Tsar, Prime Minister or Queen. The only words we have related to Statutory Leadership are derogatory, and mean either ´to allow oneś will to be dominated/manoeuvred by Another; to disconnect from Oneself´, or ´to push oneself forward, boast, or impose oneś will´.

HanuHanu is not The Leader of the Tribe. We don´t have leaders. The reason the Tribe calls itself the HanuHanu Tribe is because it was HanuHanu who asked the explorer and scholar, Professor Indiana Jones for "a home within Human Society from which, eventually, when the time of the Great Mi-O-Mi-No Prophecy comes, to address the Human Species, and be a Spokesmonkey for the Family of Existence". But he did not make this request because he Craved to Lead. He made it because he had Chosen to Follow.. Because Srí Srí Hanumanji Himself, Overseer of the Earth, had Called Him, in his dreamworld, to do so.

After forwarding his request to Professor Jones and his Team, HanuHanu spoke with the whole South American Giant Orange Monkey Tribe, and told them of Srí Hanumanjiś Calling Forth of a Fifth Tribe - and his intention to follow That Call. He invited each Giant Orange Monkey to sit quietly with-themselves; to listen without-and-within, and to listen To That which was neither without-nor-within; and to decide, Each For Themselves, whether-or-not they wanted to accompany him to the 82

Cold and Human-Crowded Lands of the North - a Journey which would include sailing the Vast Atlantic Waters, and almost-certainly mean never physically-seeing their Jungle Home again. Those who stayed became the Jungle Tribe, and those who came to Europe became the HanuHanu Tribe1 - not because HanuHanu was Their Leader, but because they all Felt Themselves (or perhaps their Children, or Grandchildren), were somehow Also Called to Participate in the Prophecy Hanuman had revealed to HanuHanu.

The HanuHanu Tribe, as I have said, is a Genetic Mish Mash of divine-descendency.

Each of Us is Unique (as Is Every Creature) - and Uniques Cannot Be Ranked. No one is above-or-below. There is no hierarchy, only variety. We don´t-do Glamorised Displays of Authority: Giant Orange Monkeys don´t wear authority-proclaiming uniforms with Impressive Hats (except for Gooj, of course!). Nor do we set-out to Diminish Other Giant Orange Monkeys, by-claiming we Are More, or Have More.

A Giant Orange Monkey becomes A Leader in-the-moment they Lead. Then, in the-next-moment, perhaps, theyŕe Not. The Tribe can feel-the-presence of the Muse of Leadership, as it Overtakes Someone. We Recognise-it each time it Reappears. It has a specific smell - equanimous, benevolent, rooted. It speaks: now through One Giant Orange Monkey, now through Another. And whoever that might be - in that Moment: that Giant Orange Monkey is our Leader. . And then, sometimes, the Muse of Leadership slips into the Laughter of a Giant Orange Monkey Child; or speaks-to-us through the Grace of a Catś Yawn; or a Series of Unlikely Events; or Arrives loud-and-clear in the Silence. .

To be honest, Little Cousins, I feel you are overly-preoccupied with your Leaders. We are more-concerned with Ourselves! Each of Us takes-care of their own equanimity, benevolence and rootedness. That-way, when Itś There, we naturally-recognise, and resonate-with - the equanimity, benevolence and rootedness of the Leadership Muse.

And that-way, if we so-choose - we can Follow Another and remain An Equal.

Notes

1. The Two Tribes have been in telepathic communication ever since, and Visits As-Energy are not uncommon. And yes, in case you are wondering - we do-enjoy Intertribal, Intercontinental, As-Energy, Giant Orange Monkey Sex. Being bodiless, you could-say, it lacks the Procreative Urge, and tends-to-be less passionate - but not always! And itś so subtle - itś almost-painfully sensual. And, of course, what 83

Everyone Likes Best, is that As-Energy, itś just-so-easy to Merge as One.

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21

Lecture 3: Not Knowing

I

ncredibly, Lecture Series attendance had gone-up Even Further! Almost two billion Humans had tuned-in to Lecture 2, ´Wakey, Wakey, Little Cousins, How I

to Become an Animal Again´! And the Official U.N. Website was at full capacity -

streaming and downloading thousands-upon-thousands of Podcasts per minute.

Of course, though - whether listening Live or Later, at-or-via the U.N. website - Not all Humans were listening favourably. . Yes, some were listening full of the Longing to pick-their-way out of the Shells of their Neatly Trimmed Egos and Ingrained Pride.

But many listened feeling their Very Real, Very Human Identities under Monkey Attack. Their Oft Retold Opinions, and their endless-everyday little-exhibitions of their Dearmost Values, were being spitefully-ridiculed by a Pompous Giant Orange Monkey! They felt aggressed and invaded. They felt themselves called to Defend the Human Race - to defend Human Superiority tooth and nail. Though, so-far, this Defence of Humanity had been sly, rather than overt.

That said, and as an aside - I bet Some of them Softened when they clicked-through the new ´HanuHanu Bonus Pagesón the United Nations Website - where, thanks to Sobli, there were now all sorts of éxtras´: a Map of The Estate; The History of Our Arrival here (the Professor Jones story I already told you); a section with information about how we do-and-don´t Farm the Forest, and why; a dropdown menu with Giant Orange Monkey áttitudes and practicesáround diet, education, health and healing, partying, and so on; a fabulous section with millennia-old Monkey Recipes; and, most popular of all - a section dedicated to the Elite Trickster Warriors, with telepathic interviews, videos of them training, and things-like-that..

And so the situation was-what-it-was. . HanuHanu would Now Speak for a-third-time

- to a Human Audience of. . we had no idea. . upwards of two billion. . maybe three, maybe six. . we had no-idea. Nor, at this point, had we fully-felt just-how-profoundly the HanuHanu Lectures were penetrating, and activating - and splitting - the Collective Human Psyche. .

II

The Estate Gates opened once again. The Humans drove in, and parked, and set up.

Gooj and I were already ón stage´ - me with my Quiver of Moonlight, my Divine Bow, 85

and my Arrows of Kryptonite and Love; Gooj with her Buffoonś Rattle and a Hat like a six-eared Hare. . Behind us, the Ancient Chestnut who had already-been An Adult, when I was still a Monkey Child. The rest of The Giant Orange Monkey Tribe was picnicking on strawberries and vegan-cream, up among the Trees around the Amphitheatre perimeter. The scene almost-breathed expectancy...

The forest leaves twitched in the autumn drizzle. The birds tossed songs back and forth.

Then, as twice previously, a sudden hush embraced The Amphitheatre. The Thousands of Humans There all stopped talking at-the-same-time. HanuHanu had appeared. I could see-without-eyes how All Human Eyes were Upon Him - dumbfounded, marvelling. . I imagined that-if those Thousands of Eyes could´ve spoken, they´d have been-saying, "Can this be true? Is this some holographic trickery? Heś huge! Heś got four arms! Whatś he holding? He looks like a Hindu God! Is he a Hindu God? Oh My God - He IS a Hindu God - here, on Earth, right here - in front of me! Oh My God -

this Can´t be Happening!" And yet, it was.

HanuHanu settled between Gooj and Me, in-front of the Ancient Sweet Chestnut. He placed his Sceptre-Mace of Radiant Power, and his Giant Love Lotus of Unbearable Beauty, on the Ancestral Skins in-front of his knees - and stretched his Four Arms heartily. Perhaps he wanted things to be informal. Then he looked-into the cameras, and said:

"Beloved Little Cousins, Hello once-again! Greetings from Myself, and from the Giant Orange Monkey Tribe of the Essex Estate, to every Human Being - to the Whole Human Family!" He was smiling proudly! HanuHanuś child-like openness made him so accessible. It made him feel so soft-and-close. And he was so soft-and-close. And yet, it was a Softness and Closeness that boomed from a-great-distance - and not just from the distance of his five-metre-high mouth; it echoed from a distance somewhere deep, deep Inside Everything. .

"I feel honoured to be able to address so many of-you - and to be able to share with-you The Ancestral Wisdom of The Giant Orange Monkey Tribes. I wonder, a lot, about how you have been listening to me; and about what you have been hearing; and about how All I have Said, so-far, might-be moving in your minds, and hearts; psychosomatically, in your bodies; and spiritually - in your Very Relationship with Reality..

I do get letters. Just this morning, one said "Thank You, HanuHanu - instantly upon-hearing-you, I realised I Am A Free Agent. I am Not an Agent of My Culture - though I can choose-to-be, if I wish. I can dip in-and-out! Thank you. I cannot tell-you what a Liberation This Is!" And another said "HanuHanu, Hi Mate - and Thanks for the Tip to Stay in my Own Experience. I´m Doing It, and itś Great! Everything Happens By 86

Itself! Itś Amazing! I was just-so lonely, all-my-life - but now that I´m Living the Good Life, as Part of Everything, I can´t see how that was even-possible! So Thanks Again, Mate!" Thank you both for writing to me.

And to those of you who would send me words full of curses and pain - let me inform you, or remind you, that the Energy Membrane we call ShunShunShoola, that protects our Giant Orange Monkey Estate, returns such letters automatically, instinctively, unopened. . And that, as those who have already-sent such letters already-know - it returns such curses and pain back-into the heart from whence they came - with piercing precision. For your own sakes, therefore, I would suggest you desist.

But let-me re-cap: in Lecture One we dismantled the Arbitrary Concept of Human Superiority - did we not, my logic-loving friends?" (He smiles a conspiratorial smile: an

"I know we both know you know" smile; which then-becomes a kind smile: a patient

"I´m sorry, but yes - you DO Have To Concede" smile.)

"Then in Lecture Two I proposed, and continue to propose, that, in this moment, there is no one, Anywhere in Existence, passing-through exactly the Same Experience as you.

And that: nor in the past, of all the Humans who have ever-existed, did anyone ever exist-in the Exact Same Experience, as the One you are having Now. And that: nor will anyone ever.

And I suggested that Śtaying In your Unique Experience´ might be Taken as a Key that opens a way-through, back-into Becoming the Animals you-already-are, again - a way-back-into the Spectacular Family of All Creatures. I said: put it to-the-test, put-it-on, wear it - Face Reality in-it. . And see for-yourself, whether the Crusts of your Conditioning crumble off-of-you.. Not only will the Absurdity of Human Superiority fall-away, but so-will your once-removedness; and the dullness that wafts about-you; and your mistaken sense of your insignificance; and your neediness, and pride.. It will All Fall Away - I suggested - as your learn to Stay at Home in your Unique Experience.

You are So Accustomed to your Shared State of Imagined Pressure, that few-of-you even-notice you have Taken On a State of Self Oppression. For most-of-you, it seems, It Is Normal to not-rise to the Wonders of a Hot Day, or the Wonders of a Cold Day, as you once did; and to Have No Time for the present moment - when once, as a child, you had all the Time in the World.

But, I suggested, those-of-you who DO Decide to Learn to Stay in your Unique Experience, will soon feel This Pressure slipping-away. . You will Enter and Remember your-own Direct and Intimate Relationship with Existence. You will feel what-itś-like to exist Without Pressure. You will feel At Peace, at last.

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This Way of Being will feel new-to-you. And it will-be - for you, as an individual - but it will also be familiar. . Why familiar? Perhaps because it rests asleep somewhere in the Ancestral Memory of your Species. . Perhaps, even-now - just by-my-speaking of it - at some subcellular level - every cell of your body is being-aroused by the unplaceable scent of Paradise Lost.

As you Let Go of Human Arrogance, and become Vulnerable Again - you will become Beautiful Again. As the P.A.S.A. (the Post-Apocalypse Survival Association) Leaflets like to remind us, "Vulnerable? No food, three weeks! No water, three days! No air, three minutes! How Vulnerable is That?!" Yes, We, the Creatures of this World, are all beautifully-vulnerable in our Closeness to Life and Death. And, of course - You Are Already as-beautiful-as the Rest of Us! You just have to explore wholeheartedly, and youĺl see for-yourselves.

Stay with What Is. Not with Your Own, or Anyone Elseś ideas-about What Is - but with your Own Unique Direct Felt Experience of What Is - and see what-happens, To You. At first it might-be-difficult to actually Stay and Feel your Own Unique Experience for-more-than ten seconds! And it might-be-easy to Stay in your Experience when you name-it-as Pleasurable; but it might-be-difficult to Stay in your Experience when you name-it-as Painful. But as you Practice, and Staying becomes Easier, naturally, over-time - your Very Sense of Self will come-into-question; you will Remember Delight; and you will find All of your Answers. .

Stay alert-and-aware in your Own Unique Experience, Little Cousins. And become Consistent in your Staying. Make-friends with the Energies In You that Pull You Out of your Own Experience. Strengthen-your-friendships with the Energies that Help you Stay. You will Become An Animal Again! An Equal among Equals! You will Become a Different Creature. Not only Behaviourally, but Neurologically. You will Become Something Different.

You will find your current gross and grotesque abuse of the Earth repugnant, and you will decease. Your shameless insensitivity to the feelings of Other Creatures, (because not yet Seen as Siblings), will become unthinkable. And whereas now the Latest Human Fashions, Innovations and Inventions impress you with their slick elegance and sophistication - youĺl come to feel them all to-be: more stuff, more jumble, more Junk

- just ever-so-well wrapped. They just won´t interest you. You will Gravitate naturally to the Organic.

So Little Cousins - I trust itś clear: you cannot simply-decide to Stay in your Unique Experience. We are not-discussing an intellectual decision. The Decision to Stay might be intellectual, but the Staying is not. It is a matter of Application - of testing-out Theory in Practice.

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And as you practice, youĺl strengthen your Brain Muscles - the brain will open new Synaptic Pathways that will enable you to see, feel and act anew. It will re-map its own cellular landscape. It will re-make itself in your new image. We call this Śynaptic Reconfiguration´ - the neurological plasticity that enables one to become-someone-new. Call it Grace, call it Scientific Law, call it what-you-want - but I, HanuHanu, believe With All My Heart that: not-only is it possible, but it is inevitable: if you Just Keep Returning to your Own Experience - the uprooted, undernourished Human Under Pressure who You have Become, will somehow peck its way-out of its Tight-and-Tightening Egg of Anxiety and Restlessness, and become a Happy Human Again!

III

And so, Little Cousins; wherever you are, whoever you are, whatever you might be going-through, and however you might-be feeling today - in todayś Lecture, Lecture Three, I want to talk to you about One Immediate Effect of this practising: Not Knowing. Uncertainty as to Absolutes. Intellectual Humility And not Only Intellectual humility. .

Staying In your Unique Experience, you notice that most of your Experience is Invisible! Emotion, Thought, Spirit.. Only the Physical is Visible! We might-say that three-quarters of your Experience is Invisible! Invisible, shapeless, untouchable. So that, as you Experience your Experience more-and-more deeply - you soon come-to-feel the crudeness and Inadequacy of Words. .

Whereas you used-to-live in Thought World; where The Word was The Thing - you now question whether Reality is actually Speakable; and whether, in an Absolute sense, you Know Anything at All! I want to talk to you about this Not Knowing, Little Cousins, and about the Family of All Creatures - who are ALL Zen Masters and Mistresses and Mistrosees, and ALL exist, day-and-night, beyond the Mindś Knowing, in ever-present Not Knowing - in the Miracle and Mystery of everyone-and-thing moving and being-moved, by-and-as, creation-creating. .

As I often request: ask yourself whether - had you been-a-baby; in another culture, in another era - you would you be thinking and FEELING as you do. Had you not been-a-baby in Italy, would you be so partial-to-pasta? Had you not been-a-baby in India, would you so-crave a pukka-curry? Or had you not been-a-baby in America, would you so hunger-for-hamburgers? All the while, convinced your very-real-tastes were your own? And if your tastes and opinions and not yours - who are you, without them?

It might seem-paradoxical - that the-more you Return to the Uniqueness of your Own Experience - tending, it-would-seem, in the Direction of Individuality: the-more you feel Part of Everything. But it isn´t really. Because you already-are Part of Everything.

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Itś just that youŕe not present where-you-are, in your Actual Individual Experience Of It. When you are Present in your Individual Experience, you will look-around and see: Your Individual Experience is Embedded in Everything.

It might seem-paradoxical - that the-more you Relax, the-more you Wake Up! But if You Already Are Animals, then no Effort To Be One is going to be-needed! In fact, Staying in Your Own Experience is the opposite of Efforting - which is driven by self-dislike, and therefore self-inflation, and deflation - and takes-you-away from What Is.

Staying in your Own Experience means relaxing-with What Is - or with What Is ´For You´. It is Self Love. It is Profound Self Love. And it brings-you-back to Your Place in The Family Of All Creatures - to Your Place in The Family of Everything.

IV

From this place of Self Love and Acceptance, Little Cousins - do you feel you can make Certainty Statements as to The True Meaning and Purpose of Existence? Or do you find yourself looking-around; and intuiting that each-and-every Human Being (and Creature), has their OWN Unique Experience - and is As Important to Themselves, As You Are To You? Do you begin to Intuit Equality? And rather than knowing The Truth about The Meaning and Purpose of Existence - do you not feel that, if you were to speak with integrity, all you could ever-say would be how YOU saw things; how things impacted YOU; and how you-personally were interpreting Existence?

Allow me to quote the Famed Philosopher-Scribe Setarcos, Second Scribe of the South American Giant Orange Monkey Tribe Annals; who, tens-of-thousands of years ago, wrote a pamphlet entitled The Case Against The Pretence to Absolute Certainty.1 In it, he asserted that NO Creature has ALL information; and that the information any Creature DOES have, is unreliable. The Pretence to Absolute Certainty was therefore illogical, he argued - and humility, caution and openness were to be recommended.

"Certainty" he said, "stood on two broken legs" - incomplete information, and fallible information.

HanuHanu extended his Lower Right Arm, and reached to-the-ground for A Pamphlet. It had been slightly camouflaged, since - like the Dark Monkey Skins of the Monkey Ancestors it was upon - it too was wrapped in a Dark Ancestral Skin. In fact, it had been reverentially wrapped in the Skin of Setarcos Himself - and bound with his dried intestines. This Pamphlet was Sacred to All of the Giant Orange Monkey Tribes of the Earth.

HanuHanu bowed slightly to The Pamphlet, and said: "here is a quote from the section on Incomplete Information: Í cannot make a Complete Conclusive Certainty 90

Statement about the Truth About Existence. This is because, in order to arrive at such a Statement, I would need to have all-information-about-everything at my fingertips.

This would (if it was to be ALL information), imply (along with many other abilities), the ability on my part to achieve total-empathic-interlock with Every Other Creature

- an ability to experience-as-they-experience, as if in-their-skins: to see as the Owl sees, as the Eagle sees; as the Bat, and Worm, and Mole See; as the Grasses and Flowers and Rocks see. Thanks to this ability I would be able to register, and take-into-account; the fully-textured, exact-nature of all of Every Creatureś Unique moment-to-moment Experience - and enter it into my Compendium of Information. Without such an ability, any supposedly Complete, Conclusive Absolute-Certainty Statement I make will be based-upon Incomplete Data - and therefore-be inconclusive and uncertain.

And, to press-the-point further, to compile FULL information, my empathic-interlocking abilities would need to extend not-only to being able to empathically-interlock with Every Unique Creature that Exists - but-also-with all-of-those Creatures who ever-have, or who ever-will, exist!

Lacking such a rare and extraordinary ability; being-unable to empathically-interlock with Every Unique Creature who exists, has-existed or will-ever-exist; that is to say -

unavailed of This Infinitude of Information; unavailed of the Complete Picture - I cannot possibly make any logically-sensible argument for being in possession of Certain Knowledge as-to the Truth Of Existence."

And here is a quote from the section on Fallible Information: "I do not Know the Truth Of Existence because, in order to know That, I would need to have Infallible Information Processing Capacities. I Process Information physically, emotionally, mentally and spiritually - as well as through other, perhaps ín-betweenŚpheres of Processing, such as the imaginative, the social, and so on. But all of my Information Processing Capacities are Fallible - I sometimes hear what I want to hear; I seem-to-keep forgetting where I´ve put my Magnifying Glass; I Misjudge and make Mistakes; I imagine Others are feeling feelings they aren´t feeling. . Even, we-might-add, the Conclusion of Uncertainty, being arrived-at via Fallible Information Processing Capacities, is itself Uncertain!

As I have often-said to my students, when asked whether I am Certain of Uncertainty:

"by all logic, we must conclude that Uncertainty Itself is Uncertain. This, however, is not a negation, but a Confirmation of Uncertainty!"

That said, there have been many noble, venerable Giant Orange Monkey Elders - Santo Bingo, Banana-nanda-nandana, Mrs Love, and others - who have all spoken of an Infallible Knowing that cannot be spoken. But I am a Scholar, not a Guru; a Monkey 91

of Evidence and Logic; and even as a child, when I first heard "all any Monkey, or Anyone, ever-feels is their Own Experience", I remember whispering to myself,

"Setarcos - yes, now you can be tranquilo, monito mío, my Little Monkey. You only-ever need be Setarcos - and you already are!" And so I have never been-seduced by the Pull to Become Another - even if that Other claimed Infallibility, and spoke of the unspeakable Ecstasy of Enlightenment. That was their Experience, and mine was mine.

And until it was mine, if ever it was to-be - it wasn´t.

That said - now that I am older, I rest-back into my rocking chair, sip my Hierba Mate in the summer sun, and watch the shadows of the leaves flicker on the dry earth. . "Ay, Abuelito" I say to myself, "Little Grandfather - your words and acts have flickered on the Ground of this World for many-a-century now. Logic has flickered through your mind, through your writings and weekend workshops. Again-and-again, with rigorous logic, you have taken your Students to The End of Logic. .

Ay, the sunshine! Ay, the breeze! In this World of Uncountable Galaxies: is it not a Miracle that anything-exists-at-all? Why - of all that might have been - why trees? Why Leaves? Why not Something Else? Why Wind, and the flickering shadows?" And I take another sip, and rock-a-bit, back-and-forth; then I say to myself "Abuelito, "you can feel it, can´t you: the interconnectedness, the oneness, the flow flowing through you..

You yourself have Become the Flow - just as Santo Bingo preached - and yet, so what!

And I laugh a good while! The leaves and the flickering shadows remain Inexplicable!

And to Be One with the Inexplicable, Explains Nothing!"

HanuHanu wrapped Setarcosś Pamphlet in Setarcosś skin, and - bowing slightly, once again - lowered it to the ground. "Setarcos was a Great Giant Orange Monkey" said HanuHanu, "a Scholar and a Gentlemonkey. He loved to Throw Things About - and not only ideas: he was the South American Tribe Petanca Champion, a hundred years in-a-row. For me, the Depth of his Simiananity echos along the Vine of Time -

undiminished for tens-of-thousands of years. .

V

Little Cousins, let me tell-you-something about how we, the Giant Orange Monkey Tribe here on the Essex Estate, live-and-die without Absolute Certainties - in Not Knowing. . In the Mystery of the Moment. . Each in their Unique Experience.. Let me tell-you-something, about how we Relate to Each Other, in this Way of Being. .

Whether eating together, bathing together, or discussing earnestly at Whole Tribe Gatherings - every Giant Orange Monkey only-ever Speaks his-her-or-hor Own Experience. This is not a philosophical position, we feel - it is just being-honest. Every Monkey tells the Story from where they Sit. Weŕe completely Content with 92

Subjectivity. Nobody needs to be right. In fact, in our own language, there is no word for ŕight´, or for ´wrong´ - or for ´truth´, for that matter. . In this shared-mood of Subjective Experiencing, nobody-minds Not Knowing ´The Truth´ - because nobody ever-feels they should! And - importantly: this is also How We Listen - never for-amoment Hearing Others speaking of anything-other-than, their Own Unique Experience.

Our Ancestors, and we ourselves, have always existed in this fluid, collaborative way, and have never held Opinions and Beliefs. We don´t have set-positions - reactions decided-in-advance of what theyŕe reacting to! When we debate, rather than seeking One Monkey who is Right, and another Monkey who is Wrong - we meet as Two Unique Experiencers, each with a Story to Tell - a Story that was-woven by Other Stories, and will itself be-woven, and become - a Thread in Another, Unexpected Story. .

Another way to put it would be this: that we don´t try-to-manipulate Each Other!

Because every Monkey is Committed to Staying in their Own Experience, we don´t try to-get-into Each Otherś Experience - and meddle with it! Everyone lets Everyone have, the Unique Experience theyŕe already having. We don´t try-to-get Other Monkeys to-like-us. We don´t try-to-get Other Monkeys to-agree-with-us. Whereas you, yourselves, Little Cousins, if you practice Staying in your Own Experience, will notice, initially, I am quite confident, just-how-busy you are, day-after-day, decade-after-decade - trying to get-inside the Experience of Others; trying to manoeuvre them into liking-you, and/or agreeing-with-you! But as you come to rejoin us, Little Cousins, Fellow Mammals - returning, little by little, to Creaturedom and Equality, you will naturally Let Go of these Manoeuvrings. Every One of You will become One of Us - Another Animal - and you will exist, as We All Always-Already Do (despite our croaking and screeching and barking and twittering) Beyond Words - in the Mystery and Oneness of Direct Experience; in the Beauty Beyond Knowing.

Could this be true, Little Cousins? What if It Is? Could it be possible that I am describing Your Birthright? That Your Birthright as Individual Human Beings is to Stand Proud within a Human Family, that Stands Proud In the Bliss of Oneness, with the Rest of Us? Could this Birthright still be breathing somewhere - deep in your DNA?

Is it possible that A Birthright of Such Beauty could be dormant within-you - even-if, in your everyday-lives and everyday-awareness; this Birthright, this Most Heartful of All Longings; this Most Profound of All Rememberings - has been reduced to irrelevance?

Only you can find out for yourself. And you will. And as you do, at first, it might not be easy... Allow me, if I may - by-way-of-ending, today - to offer some words that might-help-you in the Initial Phase:

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Within the Freedom of Staying in your Own Experience; at first, you will, no doubt; Feel All you were trying-not-to-feel - all you were trying-not-to-feel, by having Others liking-and-agreeing-with you. There will be joy - and there will be pain, I expect. If you Need Help, let your brothers and sisters and soosters Help You - let them Hold You with Kindness. As you, no doubt, would Hold Them with Kindness, in their Hour of Needing Someone.

Receive Kindness, and be kind with Yourself. Look kindly-upon The Unlikely Character you are. And this Kindness will Dissolve all Oppositions in your Psyche. This Kindness will create an Inner Climate of peace and ease.

In this first phase, as you Face the Disturbances in your Conditioning; your Daily Disconnection from Yourself; and your barely-bearable Unmet Needs - there will be Pain. But it will be OK. It will be Surprisingly Easy to Bear - because (due-to being increasingly-continuously Conscious In your Own Experience), you will be finding-yourself-luxuriating, ever-deeper, in the silent, delicious, primal Pleasure of Oneness and Belonging.

The more you stabilise in this Unfamiliar Familiar Freedom, the more Wonder youĺl see in Your Own Experience. And the more Wonder you see in Your Own Experience, the more you will Stand in Wonder before Others. And THEN, when you come to Stand in Wonder, before Another who Stands in Wonder before You - THEN, My Beloved, My Dearmost, Little Cousins - you will know Pure Love; as we do...

This Love will not be-due-to any Effort to Love either-of-you have Made - but simply to you both having-stopped manoeuvering-and-manipulating; to-you both having-stopped Using Others - to be liked, to be loved, to be agreed-with, to be respected.. In fact, it will be almost-entirely-due, if to anything, to What you Stop Doing.

In releasing Each Other from this Using; in both Being Simple; in simply Telling your Own Stories; in letting yourselves be-seen In the Stories Youŕe In; in Seeing Each Other Beyond Words; in Embracing Not Knowing, and Entering The Mystery - the Pure Love that was always-already-there is Bearably Unveiled. . Painfully, Bearably, Joyously Unveiled. . But, again, please, Little Cousins, don´t take-my-word for it: Stay in Your Own Experience, Speak from Your Own Experience - and See!"

HanuHanu closed his eyes. Before-him he saw Hanuman Himself. "Is there anything else I need-say today, Father?" he asked. They looked upon Each Other in Pure Love.

Hanuman said "no, Dear Child. Let it Be, for today. You have spoken to their Souls.

Each has heard in their Own Way. Every Journey through Eternity has its Own Timing."

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His eyes still closed, HanuHanu travelled-as-energy, up to the Amphitheatre perimeter

- up to where the Amphitheatre met the Forest, and the Giant Orange Monkey Tribe was praying, meditating, playing, and making love. "Is there anything else I need-say today?" his holographic Energy Self asked. Pure Love stirred and sighed, above them, in the Forest Leaves. "No, dear HanuHanu" said the Tribe, "you have sown the seed of Giant Orange Monkey Ancestral Wisdom. It is the simplest of seeds. The Humans are the soil. Now we must wait".

His eyes still closed, HanuHanu then travelled-as-energy to That Place from which Fire, Water, Earth and Air are all born. There he appeared before the Elders of the Alliance for the Dignity of All Creatures (the co-coordinating body of the Family of All Creatures). "Is there anything else I need-say today?" he asked. "We are so grateful to you" replied the Elders of the Alliance, and they acknowledged the Depth of HanuHanuś Devotion. "But for today, we feel you have fed the Humans well. Any Human who was truly-listening, actually-feeling, will have a full stomach by now! And there is only-so-much any Creature can digest at-one-time!"

And so-it-was that Everyone told HanuHanu "thatś enough for today", and he opened his Enormous Eyes; and looked once-again from his Ancient Giant Orange Monkey Heart, into the Young Heart of Humanity - and said-goodbye with compassion - that is to say: with empathy, love, and concern.

Notes

1. Some-of-you, who might tend-to-be ridiculed as Conspiracy Theorists, will already have-heard of Setarcos´ pamphlet ´The Case Against The Pretence to Absolute Certainty´ - as it has been-reported by several ex-employees of the Area 51 United States Air Force Base, situated in the Nevada Desert (yet conveniently-close to the terrific nightlife of Las Vegas), that one of the since-deceased Extraterrestrials was reading a Paperback Copy of Setarcos´ Pamphlet at the time of the 1947 Roswell Crash; and that that manuscript is being-examined, to-this-day, with almost-as-much fascination as the Corpses of the Aliens themselves.

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22

The

“How Many Humans Give a Shit?”

Questionnaire

I

omewhere, at-some-time, at one of our Tribe Gatherings on those Autumn Evenings, someone must´ve suggested that, in order to explore our concerns with S

accuracy, we needed more information. Initially, and specifically, that we needed to know what percentage of Humanity was engaging-experientially with HanuHanuś United Nations Lectures.

The Rabbit Tribe came before the Estate Family, and bounced-about begging to be The Ones to collect and compile the information. The Frog Nation also bounced-about and begged. The Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys volunteered for the mission. But it was only when representatives from the Oak and Birch Families yawned, and shimmied their branches, and offered to stay awake a-little-longer and take on the task, that the Estate Family Felt a unanimous ´yes´.

Garangula and Tunundum spoke Tree well, and sat with the Estate Tree Community day and night for-a-week, crossing-the-Tś and dotting-the-Iś, on a Questionnaire the Tree Families would then send out, through their worldwide root systems, to All the Trees on the Planet; and which, the Two Wise Monkeys (and Everyone Else) hoped, would assist the Family of All Creatures of the Estate, the Giant Orange Monkey Tribe, and ultimately HanuHanu Himself - in evaluating the efficacy and value of his United Nations Sponsored Lectures.

Of course, for some Trees, who lived-and-died where Humans never went, this Questionnaire arrived at their roots-ends like yet-more spam. They weren´t too bothered. Trees do tend to take-everything in their stride. But the Trees who lived-and-died surrounded by Humans - in parks and in pavements, in gardens and in the outskirts of their teeming settlements, large and small - These Trees received the Questionnaire with gladness: as an opportunity to show the Family of All Creatures how the Worldwide Tree Web could Serve.

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The Questionnaire was sent-out through the roots of all the Larger Families on the Estate - the Oaks, the Birches, the Ashes, the Aspens and the Sweet Chestnuts - and also out from the tips-of-the-roots of some of the Smaller Estate Families - the Hazels and Willows - like emails being sent simultaneously from hundreds of outboxes. The Questionnaire went from Oak to Oak, from Ash to Ash; from Spruce and Fir, to Bunyan and Baobab; from Monkey Tree to Dragon Tree - oblivious to Human National Borders, or Human International Law - flashing around the planet, without a glitch, as instantaneously as a Video Conference Call when it works.

With the same-ease with-which they were accustomed to using their world-wrapping Web of Roots to exchange nutrients, protection and affection - the Tree Community of the Earth Dimension (thatś what they call themselves), shared the Giant Orange Monkey Tribe Questionnaire - designed to find out how many Human Beings were REALLY listening, and REALLY interested, in what HanuHanu had-to-say. Within five hours the Zillion Trees of the Tree Community of the Earth Dimension had sent the Questionnaire back - the data compiled, the trends analysed, all referenced with extensive notes on the level of Reliability of the Information Received.

II

At the-next-eveningś Gathering, the Moon slightly-fuller, the Winter slightly-closer; The Estate Tree Community waved-gracefully for Silence - raised their branches like batons, and with backing-vocals from the Zillion Trees of the Tree Community of the Earth Dimension - began to Sing the Feedback to the Questionnaire (the one now informally referred-to On the Estate, as ´The How Many Humans Give a Shit?´

Questionnaire) - into the enthralled Open Ears of the Whole Estate Gathering.

The Questionnaire Feedback Song of the Trees was, I think we-all-felt - spectacular!

They began As One - gently humming the Way the Questionnaire had been sent-out: root sparking root, sparking root, sparking root; mile-after-mile across thousand-mile stretches. . Only those Humans who were barefoot at-the-time felt-it: the warm buzz in the land - as beneath their feet, within the earth; a zillion Questionnaires crisscrossed; glowing amber, like embers - lighting-up the black soil as-they-sped.

The hum became faint - a background, a canvas... The voice of ZaZaZa - an Elder of the Alliance for the Dignity of All Creatures, a fountainous Ancient Willow - entwined with the voice of Roooooo; also an Elder of the Alliance for the Dignity of All Creatures, a resounding Ancient Oak - and together they spiralled through-the-listening of the Estate Family of All Creatures. Here was the Essence of the Completed Questionnaire! As their Voices Made Love for All to Hear, they Sung the Tug between Human Longing and Human Trepidation - like Aural Flamenco Dancers -

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communicating to the Estate Family the precise state of Collective Human Energy on Earth, with detailed analysis of variants and variables. .

There-were long, lilting, compassionate verses - empathising with those-of the Populace of the Tightness who were Slowing, Softening, Loosening. There-were funky, beatboxey, upbeat verses - depicting those Humans who were evaluating HanuHanuś Talk by Walking It. And there were so Many of Them! The One Heart of the Family of All Creatures of the Essex Estate sighed, and smiled..

There were verses that were unlistenable, almost - that Hurt to Hear; postmodern jazz fusion cross-rhythms that scratched-at your ears, and recoiled-you, despite-yourself.

Here was the Trepidation. Here was their Terror. It was Killing Them. They were Feeding It, and It was Consuming Them. It felt Hellish - as-if they were-becoming That which was Eating Them. And in their pain - they were lashing-out, above-all, at Each Other. .

Then these contrasts clashed - symphonically! ZaZaZa and Roooooo - both singing-out through their every leaf - revealed the Tempest in the Human Psyche: a Great and Uncertain Elemental Battle - like a Forest Fire Raging in a Rainstorm. .

The smoke and steam then seemed to clear, as they Honoured the Struggle of those Humans battered-about by doubt; who couldn´t go-back, but who couldn´t go-forwards; who were tired, and sick-of, and sickened-by, their Mass Manufactured Life-and-Deathstyles, yet addicted to them; who Longed to Belong to the Family of All Creatures again, but who couldn´t see-how To Let Go.

As ZaZaZa and Rooooooś voices faded, the hum of the Tree Community of the Earth Dimension swoll again. Until, suddenly, as-if uninvited, a Chorus of Hazel Saplings, riotous and virile - like a percussion break - burst-through with an Original Composition called ´Business as Usual´. It was busy. Very busy. It was hysteria masked as efficiency. It was the desperate Need for A Normality. Any Normality. Any Normality better-than-none. . It was panic posing as calm - smiling with the authenticity of a toothpaste advert. The Hazel Saplings drummed the pretence that a Great and Uncertain Battle had not-already-begun.

Finally, the climax. . It began with a Song of Summary, featuring a solo from a young Birch, Michelle Kandoogo - a shy, slender Lady of the Woods; a Soprano of the Sweetness of Spring. She discriminated various-possible understandings of the Questionnaire Data; and extrapolated various-possible creative, actionable reactions.

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And then: the Whole Tree Community of the Earth Dimension was on-its-feet, branches raised - Glory, Glory! They Celebrated the Air; they Praised the Sun and Moon; they Gave Thanks for the Waters.. The Tree Community of the Earth Dimension Flung its Branches Open to the Sky, and its Roots Open to the Earth - and Gave Back Appreciation for all it-felt-it-received - for the Gift of Sap.. The Trees of this World Gave Back Gratitude, for the Gift of Existing At All!

The Questionnaire Feedback Song of the Trees had ended. They received an Ovation.

"Encore! Encore!" the Estate Family of All Creatures roared - and squeaked, and burped. But enough was enough, the Trees seemed-to-feel - and their Hum of Gratitude gradually gave-way to the Sounds of the Night on the Essex Estate.

I felt the Estate Family relieved. Which needn´t have been the case. The Questionnaire Feedback Song of the Trees might have Sounded the Gong of Doom! There might have been No Humans, or Hardly any Humans, Hearing - Hardly any Humans learning-to-walk in their Own Unique Experience, back-into the Family of Existence. But No -

there were Many!

Or The Song of the Trees might have lacked realistic statistics, or realistic creative suggestions, or advice-on-relating to those Humans battered-and-torn by Doubt. But no - the Questionnaire Feedback Song of the Tree Community of the Earth Dimension had been an exquisite mix of psychological acumen and rigorous logic. As I said, I believe we ALL felt-the-same - it was spectacular! I recorded it as an audio file for the Tribe Annals, and have added my own annotations (see the United Nations website

/hanuhanu_lectures/bonus_pages/trees_feedback_song).

That Song, I have been told, was heard and applauded - in, on and around the Earth.

On the Inside of the Earth, the bone-skinned Insects Scratched an Ovation. Upon the Earthś Surface, those who hear through their paws and claws, Stamped their Ovation.

Those who listen-underwater, blew Ovationary Bubbles. Those who listen to-the-sky whirled and swirled and twirled their Ovations. The Shy Ones - the Fairies and Sprites and Elves - tinkled Magic Sparkles upon the Zillion Trees. And the Gods, Demigods and Quartergods; Ghouls, Ghosts and Gobblesnatchers - all Stood Up THERE, where there is No Place; and Clapped, though there was No Sound - and acknowledged the Brilliance and Beauty of the Trees..

I have been told that, in the Unrecordable Indelible Annals of Existence Itself, the Questionnaire Feedback Song of the Tree Community of the Earth Dimension, featuring solos, duets and choruses from the extremely-talented Tree Community of the Giant Orange Monkey Essex Estate, was noted-as A Turning Point. Not only in the Cultural History of Tree Music; but in the History of the perhaps-predestined-99

perhaps-not, unpredictable Events that were taking place at-that-time - at the time of The Great Human Choice.

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23

Quadrophasic Synaptic Linking

I

only became-aware, last week, that I have referred to Synaptic Linking throughout this Annals Excerpt, without ever having Defined It. I have written I

that, when the Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys kidnapped the Partners of the Jewish and Muslim Presidents in the Middle East (and ended up winning a Nobel Peace Prize!), they used an Advanced Hypnosis Protocol "that disabled the brain synapses that maintain arbitrary beliefs". I have spoken-of Humans as "being in-a-state of synaptic disarray"; and as suffering-from "chronic, educational Synaptic Mismanagement" - and I have quoted HanuHanu, and Garangula, and even Setarcos -

talking-of "synaptic fusion", "mass species synaptic explosions", the opening of "new synaptic pathways", "synaptic reconfiguration", "synaptic capability", and so on. .

A few misty mornings-ago, I came-upon HanuHanu - sitting quietly - in Rooooooś lower branches, at the Heart of the Estate Forest. The magnificent Roooooo, a thousand-years-old, and fifty-metres-high; was looking satisfied and splendid - his-her-its roots still-receiving Messages of Thanks for that incredible duet with ZaZaZa. .

"Am I interrupting?" I asked. "Not at all" HanuHanu replied, "Roooooo seems to have nodded-off". "HanuHanu" I said, swinging-myself-up, and sitting alongside him: "in our Giant Orange Monkey Conversations and Discussions we tend to toss-around-terms like Synaptic Mismanagement, Synaptic Capacity, Quadrophasic Synaptic Education, and Synaptic Realignment, Nurturing, Linking, and So On - but I´m not sure how the Humans are Understanding these terms." And I asked him to say-some-words for the Annals, there-and-then; as we sat together, inside Rooooooś drowsy, blissed-out branches. .

"Let me see..." he said - his eyes closing, slowly. "Iĺl address the Humans directly, from My Heart" he announced, simply.

II

"Dearmost Beloved Little Cousins - when a Giant Orange Monkey is a baby, and suckles and grows - just as with a Human Baby: the Synapses in its Baby Brain are continuously Stretching to join-up in Ways that Mimic the Synapses of its Parentsánd Tribeś brains. We call this Telesomatic Resonance - something both telepathic and 101

physical. We might also call-it the Inevitability of Social Conditioning - whether among Human Beings, or Giant Orange Monkeys, or Any Creature on Earth.

Now.. this I feel All Creatures have in common: we All Experience. Do we not? And We All Exist in at-least Four Spheres of Experience: we Experience Physically - through our bodies; we Experience Emotionally - we feel; we Experience Mentally - we think -

and we Experience Spiritually: we experience our own existence. . Do we not? However: the Nature of all-of-this Experiencing will depend - entirely, or, at least, very largely -

on HOW, as a baby, Each Creatureś Brain Synapses were Configured.

This is why We, the Giant Orange Monkey Species - on whatever Planet we are-existing, in whatever Galaxy - always attend-dotingly to the Linking of Synapses that will sustain That Unique Baby Monkeyś capacity to experience in All Four Spheres (physical, emotional, mental and spiritual).. You, however, Dear Little Cousins - you do-not-do This with Your Young.

Yes - albeit in a taut-and-restrictive way, you DO encourage Synaptic Linking in Your Babies´ Brains in the physical, emotional and mental Spheres - but you do-not encourage-it, even tautly-and-restrictively, in the Spiritual Sphere. And tragically, Linked Spiritual Sphere Synapses, are what allow Us All to Experience Our Embeddedness in Everything. .

So that if a Human Babyś Spiritual Sphere Synapses are Not Linked - it will Not Feel its Embeddedness in Everything. On the contrary - it will feel unprotected and overwhelmed. It will grow-up to Fear Everything. And it will become capable of Terrible Acts.

Looked-at collectively: when the Majority of the Adults of a Species are Spiritual Sphere Synaptically Unlinked - that Species will only know strife.. and eventually, inevitably, predictably arrive, well. . as yours has done. . at its Own Apocalyptic Moment of Choice.

III

For us, the failure to lovingly-tend to the Synaptic Linking of Human Babies in the Sphere of Spirit, is a devastating-omission from Global Human Education. Century-after-century, this fundamental oversight produces generation-after-generation of Human Beings not Experiencing Themselves as Embedded, moment-to-moment, in the Totality of Things. This absence of the Experience of Embeddedness produces Existential Alienation. And this is An Awful State to be-in - a Haunted State.

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To cope with this Gnawing, Haunted State - you hide, Little Cousins, you hide. You Hide in your Cities. You Hide in your Ideas. You Hide in your Laws. You Hide in your Improvised Personalities. You Hide inside your needs-and-hates of Each Other. . You Hide in your Clocks and Maps. You Hide in your Habits and Hobbies and Housework. .

You Hide inside your Fragile Civilisations, Little Cousins - and you defend-them with the desperation of near-caught prey. In fact: from this unembedded, synaptically-deficient state, Comes All Human Cruelty, Injustice and Ignobility.

I know, Little Cousins - that is a Very Strong Statement! But let me say, with equal-strength, that the gentle, loving supervision, of the Four Sphere Synaptic Linking of Your Babies, would not-only End the Horror of Alienation of Your Species, with its inalienable, uncountable Catastrophic Consequences - it would result in the Collective Experience of Joyful Embeddedness within the Pulsating Totality of All Things..

IV

Of course - Synaptic Linking and Unlinking only stops when the Brain stops.. It doesn´t end when Babyhood ends! So itś Never Too Late to Link! It might be slower in later-life - but itś never too-late. Any Human Being, of whatever-age, who consistently chooses to Come Out of Hiding will come-to-feel their every day, and their every night, to be Somehow Held - the way a Child might-feel Cradled in the Arms of a Loving Mother; or a Lover Cradled in the Arms of a Beloved. The Sweetness of their Sense of Embeddedness will become tangible. And their Way of Being - no longer frightened, defensive, conflictive and unconscious - will become humble, simple, earthy, happy and kind.

And let me add: this Direct Experience of Embeddedness in the Intelligent Totality has nothing-whatsoever to-do-with being, or not-being, religious. It matters-not if you believe in The Intelligence of Evolution, or in The Intelligence of God, or a Bit of Both

- or Nothing! Believe what you want! The Direct Experience of Embedded Belonging is not A Belief. It is the Natural Outcome, and Direct Experience - of full, four-sphere Synaptic Cohesion. It is an Experience of Freedom and Joy. And it is the Birthright of Every Creature Everywhere!"

I thanked HanuHanu. He had been-speaking with his Eyes Closed - imagining, I imagine, the Human Family before-him. Opening his Eyes, he asked me "do you feel thatś a clear-enough outline?" "Oh yes! I said, "but do you think theyĺl do it?" Acorns fell past-us very-vertically, each time a breeze passed-though the Forest. Some bounced-off of HanuHanu. Some bounced-off of me. "If I felt it impossible, I would not speak" he said.

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24

The Great City Dig-Up

I

n order for you to conceive-the-scale of the Repercussions of the ´Wakey Wakey Little Cousins!Ĺecture Series - out beyond-the-boundaries of the Essex Estate, I

throughout the Human World - let me give you just one example. .

It began at The World Congress of Town and City Planners, with the Magus-Clown who´d been hired to entertain the Congressees - as a warm-up act: to relax them, and create a friendly atmosphere. . Unbeknown to-them, the Magus-Clown had become an avid HanuHanu Lecture Series Podcast fan; listening to them intently - even while juggling fire-clubs; and swallowing metre-long cast-iron swords, while riding a two-metre-high monocycle.

The Magus-Clown began That Dayś Show with an assertion that Human Towns and Cities needed to be self-sustaining. He elicited audience-response. And it was affirmative. "Food and drink production-and-distribution systems are dangerously complex and fragile!" shouted one Congressee. "These systems are out of the peopleś control! The people have No Control over their-own-lives!" shouted another. As if this were a prompt, the Magus-Clown threw his monocycle into the air. He looked up - for a few seconds, for a few more seconds, for thirty seconds (the Congressees began to applaud) - then after a minute a White Rabbit fell, it seemed, out-of-the-sky, onto the Magus-Clownś right shoulder; where it nimbly alighted, and remained for the rest of the show - curious and observant. The Audience was impressed.

"Civil Obedience has become immoral" declared the Magus-Clown, pulling away a curtain to reveal a Woman (a highly-trained Spinning Expert), strapped to a huge Wooden Wheel. "Immoral, that is" he clarified, "if morality is to love and care-for Each Other, All Creatures, and all of Existence". The ears of those Congressees who had also-been listening to the HanuHanu Lectures pricked up. They recognised the language.

"And let us not-talk of Civil Disobedience!" effused the Magus-Clown, "for the very concept binds us in obedience-and-disobedience to that which we must now Discard Utterly". He span the wheel. The woman screamed dramatically. The Magus-Clown -

a teenage boy with golden hair, and a smile as-contagious-as kindness - produced a Machine Gun, and aimed-it at the Spinning Woman. He turned and glared psychotically at the World Congress of Town and City Planners Congressee Audience.

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"Scream "No! Scream No!´" he implored them. The Congressees screamed Ńo!´. But he mocked them, and began-to-fire! Bang! Bang! Bang! The Congressees cringed. Then they-saw: out of each bullet had come a Giant Magenta Armadillo-Backed Butterfly; as glorious as the Setting Sun. And, as the huge Wooden Wheel came to-a-halt, they could see: the Giant Magenta Armadillo-Backed Butterflies had landed with aeronautic-precision, upon the Spinning Womanś two feet, two knees, one vagina, one navel, two nipples, one third-eye, and the palms of her two hands. The Congressees gave the Magus-Clown A Standing Ovation.

As the clapping-wave subsided, the Magus-Clown swallowed a few swords and said

"Let this then be the Marching Anthem of Town and City Planning: that each-and-every Town and City Planner be a moral person - if morality is to love and care-for Each Other, All Creatures, and all of Existence - and that, beyond obedience and disobedience, Town and City Planners unite to back Moral Plans for the fast and efficient conversion of the vacant, numb, urban environment into a paradise of fruit and nut trees; front-garden allotments; supermarkets turned greenhouses, parking-lots turned fields-of-grain - and public parks with signs like ´please walk on the grass´, and

´better still, why not lie down?ÍI

That was How It Began. The Town and City Planners returned from the World Congress on-fire with morality. They would Look at Themselves in the mirror-each-morning and Recite Affirmations like "I am a good person", and "I DO give a shit".

Some renounced-and-returned the millions they had saved-up in bribes, and invested them in Neighbourhood Sharing Schemes. Some suddenly saw it was odd that Homeless People slept-on-pavements, outside Empty Homes. It had never really-struck

-them before; but yes - it did now-seem-odd.

Then came The Blog. That was the Turning Point. The Blog united them, and their Unification was the Turning Point - the Point that began the Turning of the Asphalt and Concrete! The Town and City Planners of the Human World, laughing in-the-face of caution - without even-a-nod in the direction of the Chairperson of the Executive Organising Committee of The World Congress - created an online-forum entitled Ĺocal-Eco-System-Specific Direct Action for the Return of the Human Species to the Family of All Species´. This was then abbreviated-to Ĺocal Action for Return to the Family´; and became-known as the L.A.R.F. Network - pronounced ĺaugh´, in honour of the bright and mysterious Magus-Clown who had been their inspiration.

The Blog was soon chockablock with comments. With one repeated, reiterated, restated comment, above-all: wherever you went, there was just-too-much Asphalt and Concrete - it was Everywhere! It was Unnaturally Inanimate - and it was Everywhere!

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It was Everywhere - and the mulching-vibrancy of life-and-death was almost Nowhere!

The Beyond Obedience and Disobedience Town and City Planners´ Blog became more-and-more radicalised: the Asphalt and Concrete had-to-be Dug Up! The Earth needed to breathe-again! City Soles needed to Touch the Earth again! Gradually, like liquid coming to-the-boil - the Great City Dig-Up Idea bubbled-and-spat upon the LARF

Blog. . Until it overflowed..

Not only did it Overflow, but Funding came. Did it come from Interests hoping to make-a-killing selling equipment to the people who would Crush this Uprising? They didn´t know. They didn´t care. Comrades in human-cities-worldwide purchased bulldozers, pneumatic drills, and spades; sprayed this equipment with the LARF Mallet

& Sprout Logo, and the movementś strap-line, ´the Great City Dig-Up, Unpaving the Way back Home´ - and set-to-work - ripping-up pavements and roads; reviving the soil

- and planting and sowing anew.

They bought Ambulances too, and First Aid tents - for the Survivors: trees, bushes, plants and grasses who had managed to hang-on; photosynthesising ´til the end -

Despite all the Odds. For them, as they sat-bandaged in the backs of Ambulances, or on-drips in First Aid tents; the Great City Dig-Up of the L.A.R.F. Town and City Planners was a Messianic Intervention - a Miracle!

From Buenos Aires to Hong Kong; from Johannesburg to Reykjavik: the Great City Dig-Up freed the suffocated-earth - replacing the asphalt and concrete with vegetable gardens and orchards; forests, meadows and wild-lands - and gardens of flowers, medicines and herbs. Where-once traffic had flowed, rivers soon gurgled-along; where-once Great City Plazas had proclaimed the Importance of Shopping - Great Lakes came to proclaim the Importance of Beauty. Where-once Humans had almost-believed they were not Of The Earth, Humans now had-to-admit They Were.

The International Commonwealth of Insects was quick to take-advantage; the Federation of Bird Flocks also saw-the-opportunity; then the Fish Nation slipped-in. .

Gradually, Human Cities were got-bustling with life-and-death - and it became almost-impossible for Humans to not-see Where They Were.

The Magus-Clown was invited to perform at the Celebrations of the One Thousandth City to have converted over-fifty-per-cent of its land ´from grey to green´ (another of the DiggersŚlogans). But the Magus-Clown was nowhere to-be-seen. Perhaps he was Digging somewhere in Disguise. Perhaps he was Princess Gooj, Shapeshifter Extraordinaire - who, suspiciously, appeared at-around-that-time, in a Hat shaped-like a Scarecrow, hung with miniature Garden Spades. . (She also took-to-wearing Huge Blocks of Concrete on her feet; and skipping-about in a Tutu - belting-out Epic Renditions of songs from ´The Sound of Music´. Gooj had nothing, if not panache. .) 106

Or perhaps the Magus-Clown was entertaining the Funders of the Great City Dig-Up.

Or perhaps he was wondering which World Congress he would need to perform-at next - if he wished to rid-the-world of the Car Virus, by which it had been overrun. .

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25

The Tribe Has A Baby

I

he T-Shirt Revolution had spread to Other War Zones. . City Humans were Digging. Peas and Potatoes were getting-fat in the freed, deep-breathing earth. .

T There were Chickens Everywhere..

At the-same-time, Tightness Psi-Op Project Moridango (Project Monkey-Ridiculous-Dangerous), continued-on, on a transnational budget of billions. . Pro-HanuHanu Humans continued-to-clash with Anti-HanuHanu Humans.. Sea levels rose - and volcanic lava everywhere was feeling-queasy. The South American, African, Asian and Arctic Giant Orange Monkey Tribes - who all ran Reconfiguration Facilities - were inundated with Trash to be Converted. Species Extinction continued apace - and the Tightness Militia loaded their missile-launchers with well-polished ShunShunShoola-DNA-Dodging bullets..

The Alliance for the Dignity of All Creatures was on red-alert; the Family of All Creatures was on the edge of its branches-and-burrows - and The Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys were raring to engage Mass Creative Hypnosis Protocol (Total Take Over of the Human Mind). It seemed like chaos. The Planet Itself felt-like a Headless Chicken. Or was it?! Or was there, perhaps - Prophecy in the Air?

II

Amidst this commotion, here, on the Essex Estate, a Baby Giant Orange Monkey emerged from its Motherś Womb - into the Womb of the World. The Motherś name had-always-been Jinjosta, and the babyś name was-to-be Lisht. As We Say: "The Tribe had a Baby!" And The Tribe was Overjoyed!

That Night there was Ritual and Celebration! Garangula and his Apprentice Shaman Assistant, Sidrani; danced around Jinjosta and Lisht from dusk, through the night, until dawn. The Elves came - and danced with Garangula and Sidrani for hours. They always-come to See and Celebrate a Baby! They love our Giant Orange Monkey Babies!

Whoever wanted to dance, did. Stick Insects flipped-about; Slugs bobbed from side-to-side; Cows flopped their heads up-and-down - trance-like; Horses Waltzed; and Worms Belly Danced, seductively..

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In clusters, up in-the-branches of the Estate Trees, Fairies and Glow Worms shone their light generously upon the festivities. We were All so Proud! The Trees seemed-to-glow - like contented midwives, or gynaecologists. We, The Giant Orange Monkeys, danced and rested, and came and went, through the night. Thatś the way it usually goes. .

Together, and Each in their Own Way, we danced the Welcoming of the Baby to this World; we danced the Honouring of the Semen of the Tribe; we danced the Honouring of the Mother, who has Borne this Child to the Tribe; and, at-some-point between Dusk and Dawn, Every Adult Giant Orange Monkey went Ćentre Dance´ with Garangula and Sidrani, and Jinjosta and Lisht - and danced their Individual Commitment to receive this Baby into their Heart; to be a True Parent to this Baby -

to be a Guardian and a Caretaker of its Will.

And, of course, as-we-danced, and between-dances, and in-and-around It All: we Offered Our Gratitude to the Great Cosmic Mystery that Does All This - that takes-over the Body of the Giant Orange Monkey Mother-to-Be; and offers-her the Possibility of Total Surrender - the Possibility, as The Power of the Galaxy surges through-her - of knowing That She is That.

And Jinjosta WAS That. You could see! She was Herself: A Galaxy without-end! She was A Miracle! Baby Lisht was A Miracle! We were A Miracle! Thatś how it felt! We were the Galaxy Dancing - in Celebration of Itself! In-Miracle we Danced; and In-Miracle we Sang our Prayers of Thanks through the prideless night..

It is as-if, with the Birth of every Baby, the World is Reborn. The Tremendous Power of the Galaxy becomes palpable; there, on the Estate - throbbing in the earth beneath our stomping-feet; throbbing in the invisible air; throbbing in our veins.

III

Mother and Baby are always at the Centre of the Dance - because The Dance happens around them - at the-exact-place where the Baby Giant Orange Monkey slipped-in-bliss, out of its squatting Motherś Womb, through the Portal of its Motherś Vagina -

into its Motherś Ecstatic Hands.

Sometimes, when the commotion is too-much for them, the Dance moves a quiet-distance-away. And that night Jinjosta DID ask that She and Lisht be-carried, a quiet-distance-away - to a cosy, grassy, tree-cradled place.. Some Fairies and Glow Worms accompanied them, but not-too-many - so-as-to create a dimmer lighting-effect. And there, that night, one-by-one, all of the Tribe visited Jinjosta and Lisht; and anointed them; and adored them - and Pledged their Hearts.

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Those with the most intimate bonds with Jinjosta would sleep near-her, from then-on

- for weeks, months, for as-long-as she wanted them-there. . They´d keep her warm, take her food, and let her rest with Baby Lisht.

For Us, for Giant Orange Monkeys: what you understand-as ´Family´, we understandas ´Tribe´. And so, For Us, when a Giant Orange Monkey is born - it is Born to the Tribe. Still, the teasing is inevitable: "Oh look! Lisht has not-only Garangulaś Feet, but-also Koshofuś Eyes, and Cupidś Nose, and HanuHanuś Hands, and.. " I´m no geneticist. Perhaps Lisht did. I don´t know. It was very possible: Jinjosta (as her name in Giaoram, ´Big Hips´, might-imply), was a buxom and sexually-exuberant Giant Orange Monkey, who Lived on the Wild Side of the Tribe - imbibing strange berry mixtures, and Chanting in Tongues forgotten even-by the Elves.

A time-would-come when Jinjosta would return to her Wild Berry Intoxicated Wanderings; her Conscious Orgies, and her Tantric Trysts. But it was not-yet. A Giant Orange Monkey Mother and Child spend years - anything between fifty and a hundred

- together, bathing in the excruciating-pleasure of their Ongoing Separation.

Then somewhere, somehow, at-some-point, the Child begins to receive The Parenting of the Whole Tribe: receiving, perhaps, the Gift of a Musical Way of Being, from one Giant Orange Monkey; the Gift of an Engineering way of Being, perhaps, from Another. . The Gift of Generosity from One, the Gift of Strength from Another; the Gift of Football Skills from One, the Gift of Silence from Another.

I have heard Humans debate whether Tribal Parenting, such-as-ours, is more supportive of Child Development than that of One Pair of Parents. I couldn´t say, because it is not a question we have had to address - since Fatherhood is Held in Common.1 And I cannot answer on-behalf-of All Giant Orange Monkeys. . Personally, though, my sense is that, generally: it might-be-easier for a Child to stand-up and walk in its Uniqueness, if it is surrounded by diverse, and even-contradictory Uniquenesses

- rather-than-by the same One Pair of Unique Parents, year after year; whose Synaptic Mirrors upon the Child, year after year, would, of course, neglect much Synaptic Potential, and thus Restrict Brain Growth.

That said, our Tribal Parenting is not a Child Development Style, or a Theory of Education. It is our shared, felt, Giant Orange Monkey Impulse; a Communal Impulse

- like the Impulse of the Birds to Migrate. Itś Our Way.. As we Grow Up - a New Unique growing-up in a Tribe of Uniques - we naturally become One with the Tribe.

We eat, sleep, and play as One Tribe - and we become as undesiring of wrenching-ourselves from the Tribe, as a Tree would-be to have its trunk-wrenched from its roots.

For us, the Tribe becomes our Body. And our Bodies become part-of the Body of The Tribe.

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IV

The all-night Dance Roared On, at a respectful distance. Fairies and Glow Worms illumined mother-and-child quietly, softly. And Lisht smiled-up-at each Giant Orange Monkey as they came to anoint-and-adore them; his big, bulgy baby-eyes already Enamoured of this World. Lisht was Jinjostaś first child. She was blown-away - and, therefore, Everywhere - holding her Miracle Baby to her Breasts as they inflated-miraculously with the Milk of Love.

Jinjosta was, and is, a dear, dear friend of mine. I sat with-her that night - as I would-do, on many-nights-to-come. That night - as she dozed-off, with Lisht snuggled to her breasts - I cried. I cried for Beauty. I cried for Miracle. I cried for Love. I cried for Project Moridango, and Mass Creative Hypnosis Protocol. I cried for Human Women who still Birthed their Babies by-the-book of The Tightness: helplessly-horizontal; in sterilised, sterile, indoor, skyless, earthless, soulless places.. I cried for the Pro-and-Anti-HanuHanu Humans. I cried for Sea Levels, Species Extinction and Human Disconnection. I cried for the Beauty, and I cried for the Pain. .

Jinjosta and Lisht rested in the Fairylit Night. The Tribe danced-on in Joy. The Affirmation of Mother and Child, was the Affirmation of the Power of the Galaxies in Us All. . In All Things.. The Fairies, the Glow Worms, the Stick Insects, the Slugs; the Giant Orange Monkeys - I feel We All Felt humbled and blessed - and wild, and cosmic, and ecstatic!

Notes:

1. This is neither a superior nor inferior role, as we see-it. Basically, all Adult Male Giant Orange Monkeys are seen-as Fathers of All the Children in their Tribe. And they consider themselves as-such - and feel grateful, and honoured. Fatherhood is Held in Common, and it is also Held with Greatest Respect. The Giaoram word ´Pops´, which can be translated as ´Father´ (literally, Ŕain of Semen´), is a word of affection and admiration; often used when addressing Adult Males, especially Older Males - in acknowledgement of their lifelong devotion to the propagation of the Tribe.

One afternoon, once, one summer; some of our Giant Orange Monkey Males, in deference to local Human Custom, were Playing Cricket upon-a-green-meadow, near Lake Wet; when the conversation span towards Fatherhood - as often happened - since they shared a sense of 111

Co-Fathering; and often nattered, the Way Co-Fathers Do - about strengthening each childś Synaptic Framework; Facilitating Child-Led Learning; and How to best Serve those Children with Superpowers.

The Bowler was about-to-bowl, but the Batsmonkey was not defending his stumps. He had his Back to the Bowler! And he was listening-intently to the Wicket Keeper. "Hello?!" the Bowler called-out, but the Batsmonkey made-no-move. "Hello?!" the Bowler called-out again. .

And the Batsmonkey turned-around. . Humans go-white with Shock, we go-yellow. The Batsmonkey was the palest of pale yellows! "Do you need help?" the Bowler offered - putting the Stone Ball down, in the meadow grass; and hurrying towards him.

The Wicket Keeper had told him that Human Adult Males were only allowed to fully express their love for one or two Human Children -

maybe three, maybe four - sometimes a dozen-or-so - but never All the Children of the Town, or Neighbourhood. He hadn´t known! His Bat fell to the turf in slow motion. Fatherhood Itself felt hit-for-six inside him. He was unable to complete his innings. He was hardly Able to Stand. "But what do they do with the Rest of their Love?" he stammered.

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26

At Lake Wet

rofessor Koshofu strolled down to the Largest of the Estate Lakes, Lake Wet; where HanuHanu sat, his toes in the water, listening to ZaZaZa - his-her-its P

branches, laden with golden leaves, tapping-a-beat on the water - Chatting with the Fish.

Sitting himself-down at HanuHanuś side, Professor Koshofu asked if it-was a Good Moment. HanuHanu said "Yes, Old Friend, It Is". "Dear HanuHanu, the Questionnaire Feedback Song of the Trees has left-me-feeling, that the message of your U.N. Lecture Series so-far - the Invitation to Enquire into the Actuality of oneś Existence; the invitation to enter into Relationship with Oneś Unique Experience of Existing - has perhaps been too-abstract for Most Human Beings."

"Predominantly" the soft-spoken Professor continued, "I feel, you have Outlined the Map of the Terrain to-be-walked, Back into Belonging - but now, given the intensification of their tensions: I feel they-need to Feel their Feet on that Terrain. I feel they-need to Feel the Sand and Clay and Soil between their Toes! I feel they-need a Direct Experience of Directly Experiencing. Without this, I fear, they are only Equipped with Opinions - which, in the Storm of Human Instincts and Urges and Emotions, are like Paper Umbrellas! Might it be possible to Offer Them a felt-glimpse of Home? A quick Sniff of Belonging? How else will they see-through the Seduction of the Tightness?" (The Professor paused.) "Is this a feeling you share, Dear HanuHanu?"

"I do", said HanuHanu.

"I have a recommendation", said Koshofu. "OK", said HanuHanu. "It is this", said Koshofu: "Hold their Breath In Your Own; let their Hearts Rest In Yours; let Their Eyes - even-if-only for a-moment - look-out through Your Eyes; and let them drink -

even-if-only a drop - of the Bliss of Their Belonging. This, I feel, will Strengthen the Synapses they now need to be Strong - if they are to-be Saved from Themselves, and Us from Them."

HanuHanu was Silent a-good-while. He sat-alert, looking-out across the lake - his fur-bristling with the Vigour of the sharp Autumn Wind - the Breath of Vayu, his Grandfather. Professor Koshofu sat next-to-him, Waiting for Nothing - also looking-out across the Rippling Waters. The Fish Nation were quiet. ZaZaZa stopped tapping, out of respect. HanuHanu turned slowly, softly sideways - to face Koshofu. "That, I 113

feel, is profound and practical!" he said, with both determination and mischievousness,

"I shall do it!"

HanuHanu and Koshofu - who´d felt Immediate Mutual Respect, and become immediate-friends, when Koshofu had Joined the Tribe, about fifty-years-before -

thanked Each Other, and Hugged. . The Professor then lumbered-up the Meadow, away-from the Lake - the Seagull Nation, in-from the Coast for a Conference with the Magpies, swooping and swooning around him - and met his Beloved Garangula half-way-up, and half-way-down.

They too hugged - and felt the Sweet Peace Between Them - before Koshofu carried-on-up, and Garangula carried-on-down - picking his way-through the Meadow towards the Lake, like a Giant Praying Mantis. There, as-had Professor Koshofu, he-too found HanuHanu seated-at the Lakeside, beside ZaZaZa, his toes in the Cold Water - gazing at the horizon. He-too asked if it was A Good Moment. And to-him-too, HanuHanu replied "Yes, Old Friend, It Is."

"Dear HanuHanu, the Questionnaire Feedback Song of the Trees has left-me-feeling, more strongly than Ever - that the Successful Reception of your Lecture Series depends entirely on the Quality of Human Listening. . but that without Synaptic Synergy in the Spiritual Sphere, this Listening is as Good as Deaf! So I am feeling more strongly than Ever, the Necessity to Strengthen the Human Spiritual Synapses. I know you have, already, been-attempting this, My Dear Friend - but I feel the Need to Stress that, by comparison, Nothing else Matters! Without this, All Words are Pointless!" (Garangula paused.) "Is this a feeling you share, Dear HanuHanu?" "I do", said HanuHanu.

"I have a recommendation", said Garangula. "OK", said HanuHanu. "It is this", said Garangula: "that in your Next Lecture, you Invite the Humans - even more tenderly, and even more insistently than Until Now - into a Fundamental Felt-Experience of Linked Spiritual Synapses - an Experience that-will Truly Jolt their scattered and selective seeing! And then (this-also I would like to recommend, Dear Friend), that-after-that: you decisively institute Synaptic Linking as your foremost Bio-Educational Aim - encouraging and equipping them to live-and-die in a fully Synaptically Linked everyday Reality".

HanuHanu was silent, staring with-great-interest, at the Centre of the Lake. Garangula sat next-to-him, the Sides of their Bodies touching - Both At Peace. HanuHanu had known Professor Koshofu for fifty years - but he had known Garangula for over five hundred! They had been Children Together in the Jungles of South America. There was No End to their Bond. . "That is profound and practical!" said HanuHanu, with both determination and mischievousness, "I shall do it!"

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Somewhere something was in-the-air. Underwater, the Fish Nation were getting-fidgety. Abovewater, ZaZaZaś branch-tips were perking-up; taking-a-break from absently-tracing-designs on the surface of Lake Wet - and Seemed to be Sniffing the Air.

Then, just-as Garangula rose from the grass-verge to leave: the Mists at the Centre of Lake Wet began to shift-about-oddly - like Someone shaking-off a Curse; or a Human Being stuck-inside a Duvet Cover. Until. . (and, by now, there were Many Eyes watching, enchanted): the Mists could-be-seen assuming the Shape of a Giant Monkey!

Here an arm, there a shoulder; a smile, the tip of a tail. . Soon Everyone Knew. . It was Srí Srí Hanumanji Himself, hovering like a hovercraft, above the Waters of Lake Wet!

HanuHanu rose to-his-feet. In Trance, he walked-out weightlessly, across the ribbed lake surface - to Commune with the Fountainhead of his own Divinity: His Father. The Mists embraced him. Garangula could see-him, no longer.

There, in that Silence that is Packed with Information, at the Heart of the Mist, HanuHanu and Hanuman communed; hour-after-hour. The Sun Appeared to Descend, and the Creatures who Sleep at Night sought-their-places of Rest. The Moon Rose, and the Creatures who Rise at Night stretched, and thought-about-breakfast.

Those who had lips, licked them. Garangula slept alongside ZaZaZa, at the lakeside, that night. His sleep a Holy Vigil.

HanuHanu and Hanuman spoke of many things: of the Five Giant Orange Monkey Tribes of the Earth, and Tribes throughout the Galaxies. They cracked-open a few cans of beer. Hanuman cracked jokes, and HanuHanu cracked-up. All the while - they floated-together on the Cosmic Waves that animate the Visible - riding them like surfers; but sitting down, and without a board. The Waves Themselves were Full of Knowledge; Knowledge so vast, so precise, and so poetic - that simply-sitting, and chatting, and cracking-jokes as they Rode Them Together, HanuHanu and Hanuman were infused with Amazement.

"I came only to be-with-you, HanuHanu Child - that was my only purpose" Hanuman telepathed. "I know", HanuHanu telepathed-back, "thank you!". "Thank us!" telepathed Hanuman, "itś been fun! I think Iĺl invite myself again!" And, in the style typical of Apparitions and Divine Interventions, he made a Sudden Exit. With the same definiteness that he´d been-there - the Great Hanuman was gone. The Mists were just Mists again. It was dawning. The Mists spun-themselves into a Tunnel of Cloud, and slid HanuHanu through it, like a toboggan - back-to the Lakeside Grass; where Garangula lay snoring, curled around ZaZaZaś trunk.

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27

Lecture 4: The Bliss of Belonging

I

nd so it was, once-again, as-before, that - as the Sun of Opportunity re-arose, A a nd Relit the Morning; and the Essex Groundhogs scurried-loudly through the dry leaves - The Estate Gates opened to the Human World.. In drove the Humans with their lostness and toys; and parked, and got-organised; as-always - Trying To Be Fast -

some down in The Amphitheatre, some up in the Simultaneous Translation Facility..

Gooj and I, also-once-again, installed ourselves ceremoniously; in-front-of the Ancient Sweet Chestnut; symbols on display - Bow, Arrow, Quiver, Plume, Rattle, Weird Hat

- our genitals discretely-shaded by our tuft tipped tails. The Giant Orange Monkey Tribe, also-once-again, and also-discretely; had retreated to the Forest - where at-that-moment there was an especially-warm feeling between Ourselves and the Estate Tree Community - having been-through the Questionnaire Experience Together. We expected HanuHanu in-no-time. .

All the procedures were the-same - but there were-also Two Differences in the Air.

Firstly, although Every Human Being there had passed-smoothly-through the ShunShunShoola Malevolence Filter, the atmosphere they now moved-in Outside the Estate had been radicalised. Like it, or-not - even the most Pro-HanuHanu among-them had seen The Images on Facebook - the one of the Chimpanzee struggling-to-eat with a Knife and Fork, entitled ´Thus Ate Zarathustra´; the Cartoon of the Orangutan with a Parachute, teaching Birds to Fly - and Many Others. They all brought Such Images with-them, Inside Themselves. How could they not? They Brought Doubt. How could they not, when University Professors of Mammalogy, Linguistics, and even Astrophysics, were coming-out as HanuHanu Deniers - that is-to-say: explaining, each in-their-own scholarly way, why The Whole Thing (The Giant Orange Monkeys, HanuHanu, the Lecture Series) Was Impossible, Fake - a Hoax, a Conspiracy - a Lie!

"Don´t be taken-in!" they would warn, "HanuHanu Is Not Real! HanuHanu Does Not Exist!"

Not-only were their Humans´ Minds littered with such nonsense, but it seemed to Us All, I think, that the Biblical Scale of What was Coming To Pass was becoming-dizzying for-them. I think We All felt, that the Humans were Unstable.

116

The second Difference in the Air was-that - thanks to Events surrounding the ´How Many Humans Give A Shit?´ Questionnaire - the U.N. Lecture Series, which had once-been essentially a Giant Orange Monkey and Human Affair, had now entered the Awareness of the Family of All Creatures, and got Everyoneś Attention - even that-of the Confederations of Ant Civilisations, who only-ever very-rarely Paused their Industry. We were all With Him! HanuHanuś United Nations Sponsored Lecture Series, "Wakey, Wakey, Little Cousins!" - if ever it hadn´t been - now-felt, louder-than-ever, like the Voice of the Family of All Creatures. Now - not-only were the Giant Orange Monkeys on-the-sidelines, bouncing up-and-down, and Waving Things about

- but the Entire Family of All Creatures had become His Cheerleaders...

II

And so it-was, in this Doubly Different Atmosphere, that, as-thrice-previously - a Sudden Hush took-hold of The Amphitheatre. And as-thrice-before, perhaps by telepathic-agreement, but certainly without prior-conscious-agreement - the Hundreds of Humans in the Amphitheatre and the Simultaneous Translation Facility, all stopped-talking simultaneously, like a frozen Mexican Wave. And then. . as thrice-before, the Wondrous HanuHanu, My Champion - Giant Orange Monkey of Innocence, Humour, Humility and Dignity - Entered the Amphitheatre, and seated himself, cross-legged, between Gooj and me - upon Our AncestorsŚkins. He softened his back into the Trunk of the Ancient Sweet Chestnut; and looked-out, once-again, from His Heart, into the Heart of Humanity..

He smiled - the Smile of an Old Friend, glad to see Old Friends again! "Dearmost Little Cousins, welcome once-again to the Estate of the Giant Orange Monkeys" he said, affectionately. "Today, alongside and around us, there is an Attentive Audience of Creatures with-wings, and Creatures without-wings, Creatures with-fur, and Creatures without-fur; Creatures with-bark and Creatures without; Creatures with a sense-of-self and Creatures without.. I feel Honoured by their Presence; as I feel Honoured by Yours, Little Cousins. I Welcome Humanity here, today - and I Welcome the Family of All Creatures. .

Little Cousins - in Todayś Lecture, I would like to invite-you-into even-if Only Briefly, a Direct Experience of the Bliss of Belonging! I want to Activate Your Belonging!

Throughout this Lecture Series, I have Encouraged you to Evaluate my words Experientially - not only Intellectually. Today I want to take That Experiencing further.

But first, to recap: Dear Cousins, as you will no-doubt-remember, I began by prying-open the Human Psyche to the Possibility that you-are-not the Superior Species! This is a Primary Primitive Preconception so-deep in the Human Psyche that, in the 117

everyday-buzz of the Human Hive, it passes under the Radar of Human Awareness; yet, in my opinion, it fundamentally-informs the Whole Human Way of Being on Planet Earth. So please: don´t say "got it", and just-carry-on! This Primary Primitive Preconception won´t go away by "getting it", once - or twice. It’s got its Synaptic Grip on your Species. And it takes-time to Unpick that Grip, and Link Anew.

In Lecture Two, I attempted to answer the question ´how´: "how do I, an ordinary, alienated Human Creature, Let Go of my Resistance to Existence?"; "how do I truly let-go-into my Equality with Every Other Creature that Exists?"... And I said: Stay in Your Own Unique Experience. I think youĺl find this is a simple, direct and effective way to Become An Animal Again - to once-again-become The Mammal you Always Were..

In Lecture Three, I spoke about What Happens as one-comes-to Stay, more consistently, in Oneś Unique Experience. I spoke of Belonging, Wonder, Oneness and Not Knowing; of a meeting-with a World Without Words - a world that was, is, and always-will be-there before the Naming of Things: The Animal World, Your Home, The Great Mystery..

I read-to-you from the amiable and wise Philosopher-Scribe Setarcosś voluminous

´The Case Against The Pretence to Absolute Certainty´. And I spoke-to-you of The Love that We, the Giant Orange Monkeys, exist-in, and relate-in - and, yes, Just Enjoy!

How is that possible? Because an Atmosphere of Love constellates when Everyone Stays in their Own Experience - and for Millenia upon Millenia, our Species has been Immersed in That Atmosphere.

This was-and-remains my assertion, Little Cousins (and my Loving Offering to You): that, slowly-slowly, if-you-can (to use Professor Koshofuś words) "be honest and brave enough" to exist-only, forever-now, In Your Own Experience; if you are Ready to get Real, and get Humble, and let-yourselves Enjoy Yourselves; if you are Ready to Belong

- and Worry No More: then gradually-and-inevitably, you will come to Feel warmly-cloaked in Everything - like an Evergreen feels Cloaked in Green, even in Winter. .

This Feeling will Fill You, and become unshakeable - inescapable. You will Walk though the Air - as conscious of-being únderair´, as you are of-being únderwater´, when youŕe únderwater´. Youĺl blink-twice, and ask "can this be?" - as the Latent Magic at the core of every atom, glows-out - making Everything sparkle-with-sacredness - even sadism, even shame. .

Definitions will Dissolve. Certainties will Slip. Mystery will Arise. And although you will remain perfectly-capable of Driving a Car, or Building a House, or performing complex Gymnastic Acrobatics - you will feel You Flow though Everything, and that Everything Flows through You. . The thousands-of-details of your Daily Individual 118

Existences will continue to Parade through your Experience - but you will Feel Them from-within the stillness, comfort and ease of Belonging. . Youĺl be In the Zone, and itĺl Feel Like Home. As your Synapses Link, you will gradually-re-set - back to Existenceś Factory Settings! You will be re-made the Way you Were - and become Fully Functioning again! You will Be at Peace with the Seasons, with Time, and with Identities that come-and-go. . You will Belong Again. And you will Trust.

If, Little Cousins, you Take this Task of self-observation, and self-acceptance, upon yourselves - I predict you will exhibit a Way of Being unencumbered by your current, collective, set-minded, belligerent Way of Being. You will Become Serious for the-first-time; and not-special, and fun. .

Sit together-with Other Humans, who have Also Opted to make this Experiment upon Themselves; and tell Each Other your Tales of your Return to Yourselves; and naturally, you will co-create the Human Culture you are co-imagining: the Human Culture that has always-been-imagined by Assassinated Idealists, like John Lennon.

Some People say he was A Dreamer, and perhaps-he-was, but - given your Spree of Irresponsibility over the last-few-centuries - does not Such Dreaming, and Such Co-Creativity, now need to become the Default, State of Emergency way-of-being of the Human Family?!

III

But do not chastise-yourselves.. Yesterday, I heard a Human Being preaching that "the World would be a Better Place without Human Beings!" Do not glibly Advocate your own Extinction, Little Cousins! For me, you are not extinction-worthy, nor even-ordinary.. For me, You are Perfect! In fact, mathematically, I would say - it is impossible that you could be, any-other-way than, the way-you-are. And, clearly - if you are the-only-way you could be, then You are Perfect!

This does not-mean you do-not-need to Halt your Assault on this breath-giving, breathtaking world. It was a Perfect Assault. And where you are now - on the Cusp of Havoc - is Also Perfect. Perfection is not-necessarily Harmonious. Whether you-yourself feel in-or-out of harmony today: you are nevertheless Perfectly Yourself: at-any-moment, the-only-you you could be at-that-moment.

You are perfect-now, and, if-you DO Practice Staying in your Own Experience, and you DO Become an Animal Again - tasting and smelling and celebrating The Great Unknown, The Great Mystery with the Rest of Us - then at-that-time, you will be Another New Perfect You! All is always-already Perfect: if we feel we have somehow-improved-something - a house, a civilisation, a hairstyle, a recipe - it-is-not that we-119

have-moved from Imperfection to Perfection, but rather that we have moved-on - from One Perfection to Another.

What do I mean by Áll is always-already Perfect´? For me, All is Perfect - not only mystically, but mathematically. For example: if, before an Autumn Leaf Fell in the Forest Night; we could weigh it, map its exact shape, calculate the height from which it would fall - and all of the aerodynamic variables it would encounter, as-it-fell; then we would be-able-to predict the exact trajectory of that Autumn Leafś Fall through the Forest Night. As Each Leaf breaks from the branch; and takes to-the-air; and meets the ground - there is one, and only-one, Way it can Fall. And that is the way it does fall. And therefore its Flight is Perfect. All is Perfect because All Happens, the-only-way It Can Happen. You are Perfect, because you are happening the-only-way You Can Happen!

Yes, you have Free Will. And yet it is Not Free - because you never-chose to have it, or not - it was programmed into-you! Does the Tree freely-will-itself towards the Sunlight; or to stretch underground towards Moisture? Do you freely-will yourself to breathe? Do you freely-will yourself to sleep? Do you freely-will yourself to think? Does the Human Spirit freely-will-itself to reach towards Self Knowledge? Or can it not help it? !1

Like the Fall of the Leaf in the Night, we are All the only way we could be; the Faithful Servants of our Own Uniqueness - following our own physical, emotional, mental and spiritual natures with mathematical precision. Each of Us perfectly themselves. We could behave no-differently. And when we Do Choose to behave-differently, that is the only choice we could´ve made!

Little Cousins - you Fit into the Family of All Creatures - and into the Intelligence that breathes through Us All - as rightfully and dutifully as-does every Other Creature; every animal, fish, insect and tree. You follow your Unique Nature as-perfectly as-does every bird, every stone, every molecule, every cell. . You are Unavoidably Perfect, because you are, as We All Are: a Unique and Mysterious Constellation of Factors beyond Knowing, in Perfect Mathematical Obedience to its Given Nature.

You might decorate yourself in Fashionable Clothes; you might Paint your Face with makeup; you might mutilate your body with Plastic Surgery (delirious with injected images and ideas of Your Own Imperfection); you might Maim your Heart (distorting your Personality to fit the expectations of your parents, or societal superego) - but even-as you Battle with your sense of your own Imperfection, You Are Perfect! You Battle as only-you-do! You judge-yourself and suffer - in Your Unique Way! Because: you are, always-already - innately and inalienably Perfectly You; even as you struggle to perfect-yourself - even as you do-yourself-harm!

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Little Cousins! Here, now: breathe-and-feel the Fact you Exist! And Feel Existence Existing all-around-you! Let yourself Not Understand! Be Amazed! Let Go of Defining. . Let Go of Control. . Let Go and Fall into Everything. . Let yourself Be Held.

Let yourself Belong - a Perfect Creature, in the Arms of Perfection!

You cannot-be More Perfect than you Are, Little Cousins! You cannot-be more Perfect than Perfect! So you can relax your Epic Quests! If you choose to rejoin the Family of All Creatures (and end-up Rediscovering Reality) - that will be Your Perfect Choice.

Or-if, for you, such-stuff is childish, romantic, utopian and irrelevant; and, for you, to Become an Animal Again seems a repulsive proposition; and you choose, therefore, to Withdraw from this Elemental World, and Build a Statue to Yourself - that-too, will be Your Perfect Choice!

There is No Universal Pressure pressing-you to Be Different - only your own negative self-judgement, your self-dislike. . Are you interested in stopping-following the Ideas and Orders of Others? If so: perfect. If not: perfect too. Whatever you Choose will be Your Perfect Choice. There is No Pressure!"

IV

As I said-before: today I want to Offer you A Taste and A Smell of what-it-is to Stay deeply-in oneś Own, Unique Experience. As-I-said: I want to invite-you-into a Direct Experience of the Bliss of Belonging!.. If any One of You, individually, wants to truly-receive this taste-and-smell; and truly-receive this invitation - I will need your active-participation, and receptivity. But don´t try to ´be receptive´! Just listen to the Sound of my Words. Don´t even-worry if you understand! Be Interested Only in Whatever It Is that youŕe Actually Experiencing..

And so, Little Cousins - I want to invite you, if you wish, to Close your Eyes, Watch your Breath - and Let Go, for-a-while, of Everyone you Know! Let Them be-with Themselves! Let Go of Them! In fact, Upon the Screen of your Mind, one-by-one, see an Image of every Human Being in your Life. And to Every One of Them, whatever you might feel towards-them, in-your-own words, say something like-this:

"I have been Existing in My Unique Experience without knowing it! Although in actual fact I am always only-ever In Myself, I have been Existing as-if Out of Myself! Like a Child, I have been valuing the beliefs, values, attitudes and behaviours of Family, Friends and Society; over-and-above the feelings and conclusions arising from My Own Experience. How could I not have done?! I was not In My Own Experience!

But I am coming Home to Myself now; and whatever I may-have-done, or may still-be-doing, that could restrain or impede YOU, in any-way, from Realising the Fact that 121

All YOU Have is YOUR Own Experience - I apologise-for, and retract. And if I come Home to Myself trailing ribbons of neediness-and-insecurity; and therefore Masochism, and therefore Sadism - I Apologise, and Ask for your Forgiveness.

I don´t expect My Return to happen-overnight. But I Do Commit to breathe-and-observe myself, and all of my out-of-myselfness; and all of the Odd Things I Do to soothe myself - when I´m suffering my out-of-myselfness. And I Do Commit to starting to Base my Relating on what I am Actually Experiencing, in-present-time; on expressing subjectively; and on connecting in-equality with All Others - Creatures Great and Small.

And as I come, now, to sense that you-too - my Human Siblings within the Human Family; and you too - my Siblings of All Sorts within the Family of All Creatures - are also All in Your Own Unique Experience (Experience that is never better-nor-worse, but always as-equally-valid-as My Own), please forgive-me my arrogance, my obsessive judgements, and my psychological violence. I haven´t known-how to Exist in My Own Experience, with All Others, as Equals.

I now Choose to Exist in My Own Experience; to look-directly at What Is; to observe Who I am; to not pretend To Know, and to Speak ONLY my Own Seeing. I Let You Go - not to distance myself from-you - but to Enter the Intimacy of Equality with-you!

I Let you Go, and Let you Be.. And if it-so-happens that You Too Choose to come home to Yourself; THEN when we meet - what a Meeting it will Be! If Both of Us come to see-for-ourselves: that Where We Are, is off-the-map; that When It Is, is off-the-clock; that Everything is Beyond Definition - and that We Are Too: what a Meeting it will Be! As We Both stop pretending, and become unpretentious; as we let Each Other See, into Each Oherś Eyes - neither Of Us above, neither Of Us below - how could we-possibly-not Love Each Other?!"

With words along-these-lines, Let Go of Everyone you Know - which, more-precisely, means: to look inwards, not outwards at-them; and put-down the Lasso with-which you Rope Others into your Reality; and to disentangle Yourself from the Ropes with-which Others Lasso You..

And Continuing to Breathe, as you have been-doing - with gentlest self-acceptance -

stay Focussed In your Own Experiencing. Again: Only You are Experiencing what You are Experiencing. . Feel This, deeper-still. And ask-yourself whether, therefore, in some sense - You are Alone. Not Lonely, Alone. And Feel how-it-is, This Aloneness, if you can. .

AND NOW, as you breathe; let-yourself rest-into the Possibility of Belonging. Feel how the Trees Belong to this World. Feel how the Fish and Insects Belong here-too.

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Feel how the Cats and Dogs Belong here. Let yourself be-surrounded by Them All -

and Feel how you-too Belong Here. Rest Here Fully - and let yourself Be Fully Known.

And if you feel-happy, thatś OK! Itś OK to feel-happy! This is a Happiness beyond all the happy-ups, and sad-downs. This is Happiness In Belonging. Let this Belonging envelop you. Let it Cuddle You. Give way to it. Let it take-you-over. Let it pass-through-you. Let Go into-it. Become One with the Possibility of Belonging. And Breathe. And Let Go. .

And now, one last-step, Little Cousins; one last-step - together, here, today, with me, HanuHanu - whose Heart is Alongside Yours in this very-moment, wishing you well. .

Little Cousins: I invite you to now welcome-back-to-yourselves: all the Humans you Are Tied To - those Others who populate your days, your memories, and your dreams..

Welcome them to Your Experience; as it is, right now. Welcome them Back. Welcome them into your Belonging.

Then welcome-in the Humans you Don´t Know; the Rest of the Human Family. . The Billions of Your Species with whom you are inseparably, genetically and historically linked - Whom you have Never Met, and Whom you will Never Meet. . Billions of Humans - too-many to get-to-know, however Long you Had - all of them Just Like You! Welcome them ALL in! Love them ALL! Welcome them All into our Experiment: welcome them All into the Possibility of Belonging. Welcome the Humans you Know, and the Humans you Don´t Know - into the Experience of Being One Human Family.

And Knowing Yourself - knowing both your Aloneness and your Belonging: now-also welcome-in All of the Creatures who Populate this Breathing Universe - the Great Family of All Creatures: the Creatures of the earth, the waters and the air; the Creatures within your Field of Perception, and beyond-it; even the Creatures beyond your definition of Creatures. . Welcome them All! Welcome them All with Love!

Welcome-in the whole, hallowed, living-dying Universal Family of Existence! Welcome Everyone into your Loving Belonging. Each and Every Creature Belongs - just Like You!

Feel how the Family of All Creatures is a Firmament! Take Your Place, you Crazy Diamond, and Shine!"

V

To be honest, I didn´t know HanuHanu was a Pink Floyd fan (like me)! There was a long-long silence. There was Stillness in the Branches; Stillness in the Undergrowth. .

Then - suddenly, it seemed to me - the Strangest of Occurrences occurred: Pulsations of Loving-Belonging started pumping-through HanuHanuś Body, and Radiating Out from Him! Tsunamis of Gentleness and Welcoming! They were Wonderful! They came at about-one-a-minute. Each one lasted about-ten-seconds. And this went-on for about a quarter of an hour. .

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In the Physical Sphere of Experience, to me - they felt like Subtle Orgasms. They were SO pleasurable! In the Emotional Sphere they were, quite simply - Love. In the Mind, as each wave passed, thought paused. And Spiritually, each Passing Pulsation brought with-it - a Flush of Oneness.

Along with Everyone Else, through my-blind-eyes; once-a-minute, for about-ten-seconds - I Saw Everything Reinvested of a Shimmering and Exquisite Perfection.

Once-a-minute, for about-ten-seconds, for about a quarter of an hour, together, We Beheld a breathtaking Vision of limitless fractal Beauty!

HanuHanu later told-me he had not decided-in-advance to Pulsate-Out these Love Transmissions, via the Human Global Telecommunications System - into the Energy Bodies of the Human Species. It was not something he had-intended. It seemed-to-happen of its Own Accord, through him. But he´d immediately-sensed that this might-be-part of The Great Mi-O-Mi-No Prophecy; of which he was Not In Control - and he trusted. .

The fifteen minutes ended; the Pulsations faded - and HanuHanu continued, serenely.

"And now, Little Cousins, if you have your eyes-closed, I am going to invite-you to open-them - but don´t rush. I am going to invite-you to arrive back-here, with Us All

- without letting-go of All you are Experiencing. Stay in your Own Experience, as you-arrive-back. Stay in Your Unique Experience - even-as you now become, more-and-more aware of the Others around-you, and the Situation Youŕe In. And ask-yourself if you now feel The Pressure you usually-feel. Is there Any? Or was it Imagined - a fixation, an obsession, a hallucination? As your attention returns to Where you Are -

how are you feeling? Stay close-to-yourself, as you contemplate these questions. .

Breathe - and rest in the loving arms of this Breathing Universe. Rest in the Bliss of Belonging. . Everything Belongs. How could it not? If it wasn´t Part-Of, then it wouldn´t be-here! You Belong. I belong. How could Anyone not Belong?!

Little Cousins, make Śtaying in Your Own Experience´ your one-and-only Focus of Attention. Then, gradually-gradually, one day, youĺl turn around-in-joy and notice: you´ve become blissfully-embedded in the Matrix of Existence. This is not because you´ve meditated-yourself-into this state; nor is it something you´ve argued-well, and convinced-yourself-of; nor have you ćreated your own reality´ - because this is not something you could-have- imagined creating. This Embeddedness in the Matrix of Existence arrives of its Own Accord, by its Own Grace, naturally and inevitably -

because Your Experience IS already Embedded in the Matrix of Existence. Where-else could it be?!

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Little Cousins, I am going to pause-here, for today. You can listen-again to all we have just been-through-together, at the Official U.N. Lecture Series Site. As you know, this is something I recommend. I recommend listening a second-time. But above-all, I recommend undertaking a Scientific Experiment Upon Yourself - to discover, For Yourself, whether Staying in your Own Unique Experience does, actually, as if by-magic, Turn you Back into an Animal again - an Animal among Animals, who Belongs Again, who Feels Held again; and who Remembers Love.

My Beloved Little Cousins, I hope-so-deeply that some-of-you have Experienced the Bliss of Belonging, here-today - and that this Bliss will Infiltrate your Everyday Living

- and put Everything into Perspective!

No sooner had these words left-his-lips, than a Flock of a Thousand Pigeons alighted upon HanuHanu - covering his whole body with tiny, pecky, little kisses; and nibbling-up the psychic crumbs of the Loving-Belonging Pulsations. . HanuHanu reeled and squealed, like a very-ticklish Human Child being-tickled. And they wouldn´t stop! This must´ve continued for a Good Five Minutes! Then, as they released HanuHanu from the Ecstasy of his Torture, and rose, in murmuration, Delighting in Themselves, as free as birds; HanuHanu could be seen-crying - not unlike Saint Donald, that day; and to That Flock, and to the whole Federation of Bird Flocks - and to his Human Audience

- he was saying "thank you, thank you, thank you".

Notes:

1. Over-the-years HanuHanu has spoken extensively on the Mystery of Free Will. His critics have accused him of contradiction. "They are paradoxes, not contradictions" he usually responds - though most seem more interested in winning, than in wondering.

In my opinion, HanuHanu stresses the side of the paradox that he feels most-beneficial to his audience. . For instance: the devout devotees of a Religious Sect once visited the Estate. They came dressed in white robes, white underwear, white socks, and white shoes - preaching that Surrender to the Great White Light was the Ultimate Act of Free Will; the-only-worthwhile Act of Free Will - if not the-only-possible Act of Free Will.

"Or is it" HanuHanu had challenged them, benevolently, luminously

"that Surrender comes-of the realisation that there-is No Free Will? Or, 125

at least, of the realisation that no Efforts of Oneś Own - however freely-willed - will ever Switch on the Light? Just as no amount of smiling at a door, will ever turn-the-key in its lock!"

Whereas, when visited by the Hopap Didedi Association - a silent and inactive Political Association for the Hopeless, Apathetic, Disillusioned, Depressed and Disenfranchised - HanuHanu asserted quite-the-opposite. He said: "Let us contemplate the concept of Éverything´: Everything MUST have Free Will - because Nothing can be Outside of Everything. Thus Nothing can act-upon Everything from-the-outside. If it could, Everything wouldn´t be Everything!

Everything is, therefore, Free - and Wills Freely. And We are All In-Everything. And Everything is In Us All - so you, My Friends, and I, and All of Us - are Free! We are Free Will Itself!"

And on yet-another-occasion, in a dark and steaming Sweatlodge, as an Honoured Guest of the Buffalo Nation; HanuHanu had confided, in greatest confidence: the perhaps most-mystical of All Knowledge: that There Was No Free Will for anyone to make anything happen - because there was No Anyone. And that there Was No Free Will for anyone to make anything happen - because Nothing was Happening.

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28

Solar System Supper

I

igh-high above the Essex Estate; yet in-a-place that was neither high-nor-low; H h igh-high above the Earth; yet in-a-place that was neither above-nor-below -

Lord Hanuman and Ladyboy Gaia invited some friends over-for-supper. Their Place was a Weightless Place - visible to All Creatures except Humans. Other, that-is, than-to a few Himalayan Yogis, who could see the Supper Table through a Hole in the Ozone Layer; and by some Humans sometimes - when they played or prayed, and got-glimpses through-the-gaps between thoughts.

Lord Hanuman and Ladyboy Gaia, whose responsibility it was-and-is to Oversee life-and-death on Earth, set-the-table with sensitivity to their Illustrious Guests´ personal preferences.

The insanely rich-and-generous Lady Lakshmi was the first-to-arrive, with two of her Many Husbands: the very-white and very-wise, Horse-Headed Lord Hayagriva, with whom she oversaw life-and-death on Uranus and Jupiter; and the ferocious and protective, Lion-Headed Lord Narasimha - with whom she oversaw life-and-death on Neptune and the Dwarf planet Pluto, also known-as Grumpy.

Then, as-if by gender-symmetry, the always-jolly-lucky, big-bellied, Elephant-Headed Ganapati-Ganesh arrived - on the back of a puffed-out Divine Mouse; Vasuki (King of Serpents), knotted-smartly around his neck - with his Two Wives, Buddhi and Riddhi, Singing at his Sides. Lord Ganesh, Buddhi and Riddhi, were responsible for Overseeing life-and-death on Saturn and Mars.

The Other Guests, Each with an initialled cloth napkin, embroidered-especially for the evening, were: Lord Varaha and Lady Varahi, the green Boar-Headed God and Goddess who oversaw life-and-death on Mercury and Venus; Lord Surya, the Sun God, who left his Golden Chariot drawn-by-five-white-mares by the Front Door, but who was politely-requested to Park in the Chariot Park; Lady Maya, Lord Suryaś Consort, Queen of all Hypnotism, Enchanter of Entire Species; Lord Chandra, the Moon God, and his two wives - their Ladies Rohini and Revati; and Twenty Five Stars of no-discernable-gender.

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After a-while, the Ambrosia began-to-flow, Divine Tongues loosened, and conversation turned Earthwards. "So you´ve got yourself a right mess down there!" Lord Surya bellowed from-one-end of the Supper Table to-the-other, addressing his statement-stroke-question to Lord Hanuman.

Lord Hanuman was about to reply when Lord Ganapati-Ganesh; who´d been passing titbits to his Mouse and Steed, Musakavahana, now nibbling-away timidly under-the-table; tossed back his truck theatrically, and declared "Humans have a mistaken concept of Paradise!" This odd-pronouncement Caught the Curiosity of the Whole Table of Gods, Goddesses and Ungenderable Divinities (known collectively as, The Gids).

"Indeed" glowed the four-armed Lord Surya - one hand holding a Samosa, one a Pakora, another a Chapatti, and another a Puffy Naan. "Humans seek Paradise in Rejection of Duality - rather-than through Its Embrace." "Say more, Lord Surya", requested Lord Hayagriva, wisest of all horse-headed beings, Original Ancestor of the Race of Centaurs.

Lord Surya leaned-back in his chair, balancing-it on its Two Back Legs. He was The Sun - brilliant, glorious, wise and funny - quite the Raconteur. "There they-are, in Eden, right-now" he began, deliberately-slowly, "thinking Eden has been Lost! They think of Eden as a lost Nice Place; a lost Safe Place - tidy, peaceful, pleasing to-the-eye, and Full of Goodness. So that, upon-seeing the mercilessness of volcanoes and waterfalls; the pitilessness of One Creatureś cold-teeth piercing Another Creatureś warm-flesh; and famine, and epidemics; and disease and starvation; and their own Horrific History of wars-upon-wars - these logic-loving, yet-logicless, loveable Creatures conclude they are In Eden no-longer!"

(A ripple-of-applause from the twenty-five Stars of no-discernable-gender.) "Do they not-think there-were Mosquitoes in Eden?!" Lord Surya chortled-rhetorically. (Smiles from Ganapati-Ganesh, and Lady Lakshmi - among others.) "Of course there-were Mosquitoes - just as there-are now! Of course there-were Mosquitoes - otherwise what-would the Dragonflies have Eaten?!

Now, well they-may-ask: were-there Dragonflies in Eden - just as there-are now? Well, of course there-were - because, otherwise, what-would the Lizards have Eaten?! And every Human Being knows there were Lizards in Eden: Big Ones. . They Know This because, all of their Books on Prehistory have pictures of Dinosaurs in-them! (The Whole Supper Table was hooting and guffawing, charmed in-the-palm of the Sun Godś wise and humorous hand.)

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"In fact, the very question of Eating in Eden brings-up, or down, the Question of Shitting. Did the Creatures of Eden Shit? How did it Smell? Did it Smell of Heaven on Earth? Or was-it smelly shit - as-it-is now?" (The Ambrosia flowed from bottle-to-glass; from Glass to Divine Lip. And Laughter united the Celestial Supper Party - somehow bringing the Solar System Itself into harmonious-alignment.)

"We know Adam and Eve ate other fruits, and nuts, and legumes - before they Ate the Apple" said the Sun God, beaming-now, "so they must-have Shitted. Did they Shit just Anywhere? Did they let Each Other watch? I suggest-to-you, my Absent Human Friends, that Paradise must also-have-been a filthy, sticky, sweaty, smelly place - which, coincidentally, is how-it-is now!

If there were Fruits, then there-were Seasonal Cycles; and if there-were Seasonal Cycles, there was time; and if there-was Time, there was Decay - so there must have Been Rotting in Eden. There was Eating and Shitting. There was Abundance and Decay. Trees must-have Decayed - as they do-now - otherwise where would the Maggots have squirmed and squelched as they crawled-over Each Other? And there must-have been Maggots, because if there-were No Maggots - what would there have been-for-breakfast for the Deadly Beaks of Edenś Sweet Songbirds?"

The attention of most of Lord Suryaś Ambrosiered, Divine Supper Table Audience was wavering, Lord Chandraś was waning, The Sun God brought his Discourse to a Close. "Why-then should they not-call the Earth Éden´? Why-not - if Eden is as-ugly as it is-beautiful; as terrifying as it is-magnificent; as diseased as it is-healthy; as rotting-down as it is blooming-forth?

And why-SHOULD-they call the Earth Éden´? Why? Because the Earth is Effulgent!

Because It Is as radiant and resplendent as Any Eden. Effulgence bubbles-inside its Every Atom. As All Other Creatures know: every Earthly subatomic-atom emits a subtle, sacred light - and Whoever Lies Down in the Earthś green-pastures, and beige-deserts; and Just Lets Go; and looks-and-sees, and feels; is infused by the Deliciousness of this Subatomic Earthly Effulgence - and finds-themselves lying-down-glowing, inexplicably, Somewhere in a Glowing Electromagnetic Eden!

"A Toast to Eden!" called Ganapati-Ganesh, raising his Trunk to the Heavens. "To Eden!" they responded, in divine unison. . The Supper Party sub-divided into one-to-one conversations, and news was exchanged about Neptune and Saturn, Pluto and Mars, and of the Challenges of Each Gid - as they endeavoured-to-oversee the Energy Field of their Planet (or Planets), without Imposing their Will. . The challenge of offering-possibilities, and standing-back; the challenge of suggesting, not persuading; the challenge to let That Which You Love, suffer. .

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II

Later, in Lord Hanuman and Ladyboy Gaiaś Living Room; with its own bar, snooker table, and pinball machines; as the Gids lounged-about on sofas that felt-like-Heaven; and Lord Hanuman and Ladyboy Gaia went-around with platters of Ambrosia Cakes, Ambrosia Smoothies, Ambrosia Canapés, Ambrosia Ice Lollies, and so on - eventually: the conversation came-back to Lord Suryaś enquiry-about that "right mess down there, right-now, on planet Earth".

"What say thee, Lord Hanuman, to this enquiry?" enquired Lord Varaha, loftily. Lord Hanuman put-down a platter of Ambrosia Samosas and Pakoras, and said: "it-is-true, as-you-say, Lord Surya: within the Greater Body of the Solar System, that the Earth, my Beloved Earth, is in-gestation - and, yes, itś as messy, down-there, as-it-is inside any womb, or chrysalis, or egg. The Human Species has Impregnated the Earth with Crisis. It is Itself the Crisis Seed. And, indeed, this is a painful, tense, enraging, tragic, poignant, beautiful Moment for the Earth. And whether my Beloved Earth will haemorrhage, or be stillborn, or be part-born, or born-again - I do not know. That is the Great Mi-O-Mi-No Prophecy unfolding: the One Unknowable Predestined Outcome, to which we can only-progress by acting-upon the supposition of Free Will.

Meanwhile, as-we-speak, Waves of Loving Belonging, which (a few days ago), pulsed-out from the Body of HanuHanu, my Direct Descendent on Earth, are circulating the planet - like a lullaby. We don´t yet-know to what-effect, but we are monitoring the situation. There are five Giant Orange Monkey Tribes on Earth, all with battalions of Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys, eager to serve. More could perhaps be sent from Elsewhere. Meanwhile, through a Lecture Series entitled "Wakey Wakey, Little Cousins", my Son, HanuHanu, Bearer of the Energies of My Lineage, is working-on Mass Human Synaptic Realignment - so that the Human Species will BE ABLE to act with thoughtfulness and grace; should it-decide it-wants-to. To date, though, they are still-not-even United as One Human Family! Assembled Gids and Stars of the Solar System, I ask for your Vibratory Support in these delicate, apocalyptic times On Earth.

And thank you, Lord Surya, for your enquiry - which has made the Earth Situation more-prominent in the Minds of the Solar System Gids. Thank you too, to all- twenty-five Sweet Stars here-tonight, for your magical presence. And thank you, my fellow Overseers of the Solar System: My Lady Maya; My Lord Ganapati-Ganesh, and My Ladies Buddhi and Riddhi; My Lady Lakshmi, and My Lordships Hayagriva and Narasimha; My Lord and Lady Varaha and Varahi - thank you ALL for the Depth of Caring in Your Own Overseeing! May you be reciprocally-blessed! May the Planets you Oversee encounter their destinies! May our entire Solar System Dance with gratitude-and-creativity! And may Humanity perceive; as-is the Birthright of Every Creature; once-again: the Erotic Effulgence of its Earthly Home - and, as a Species, Be Returned to Eden! May the Humans be Reborn Whole!"

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The Gids Rose to their feet, slightly giddily - having lounged-so-long on the heavenly-sofas - and, lifting their glasses of Ambrosia Champagne, echoed Hanumanś words:

"May the Humans be Reborn Whole!"

Not-long-after-that, slowly-slowly, Everyone went Home. The twenty-five Stars of no-discernable-gender; My Lord Chandra and My Ladies Rohini and Revati; and the Great Gid Overseers of the Solar System - they all collected their iconography and symbology from the Closet under the Stairs.. their Lotus Flowers and Swords, Maces, Thunderbolts, Wands, Coats and Shoes. . And left Lord Hanuman and Ladyboy Gaia to clear-up the most god-damn-awful, after-party mess! Only Lord Vayu, Hanumanś Dad - who´d blown-in uninvited - stayed-on, to help clear-up.

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29

Stop Cannibalism Now!

I

-day-or-so later; in that Same timeless Place that is neither up-nor-down; in a A m ore-sober mood; though still, and forever, ensconced in the Heavenly Comforts of Heaven; many Gids were gathered; looking-down upon the Earth -

observing the Net Effect Thereupon, of the Billions of Humans running-about on-it.

Supper at Hanuman and Gaiaś had, indeed, brought their attention Down to Earth.

They´d known. Of course they´d known. And yet, as they now-looked-down; across the wondrous peace of Dark Space; through the Ozone Hole - The Gids were shocked!

They were shaken to their invisible bones! Grief shook them. Rage shook them. The Humans! Their metal and bashing; their plastic and trashing; their speed and their daze; their mindsśtraight lines; their fear of existence, and their phantasmagorical faiths; their conceit and disregard; their genocides by the sword, their genocides with canons and guns, their concentration camp genocides, their technocratic genocides; and their nonchalance, as they sat down to fat-breakfasts - while elsewhere their Siblings Starved. . The Gids realised they hadn´t realised how tightly The Tightness had tightened around Humanity; and, as a Species, how cut-off and crazed it had become. The Human Presence on the Earth was a disturbing and Ugly Sight, thus beheld - from the Thrones of the Solar System Gids.

Ladyboy Gaia never spoke - or rarely. So it was without expectation-of-reply, that one of the Twenty Five Stars of no-discernable-gender asked "what do YOU feel, Ladyboy Gaia?" And although she-he did not speak - many a Divine Eye turned towards her-him; as she-he rolled-up the sleeves of her-his chiffon blouse, and showed the Other Gids her-his burnt and cracked skin. Some came to her-him, to offer her-him comfort.

Many of The Gids looked-down, through the Ozone Hole, upon the Earth - and metaphorically, upon Ladyboy Gaiaś arms - and cried. Some whimpering, some wailing. Others, like the Lion Headed Lord Narasimha, growled ominously. Ganapati-Ganesh felt-outrage for the Massacred Forests. Lady Lakshmi wept-with the Melting Ice. Buddhi and Riddhi chanted Dirges for Each Species as it Became Extinct The Twenty Five Stars had been observing the Microplastic Islands in the Pacific Ocean, where the Humans were now installing Hover Hotels - "for a Getaway Beyond the Natural". "Come Hover With Us through a Sparkling Starlit Microplastic 132

Wonderland!" their publicity invited, surreally. But what the Twenty Five Stars of no-discernable-gender hated the most - was that the Microplastic DID look pretty -

sometimes even quite-magnificent - when they shone upon it.

II

Such was the Atmosphere in the Heavens - that timeless day-or-so-after the Party -

when Lady Saraswati, Gid of Music and Knowledge ("a fortuitous combination", she would often-remark); best friend of Lady Lakshmi - popped-by on her Giant Peacock, having Snapped a String on her Sitar. "Does anyone have a Sitar String?" she asked in her melodious, knowing voice - glancing suggestively in the direction of the Horse-Headed Lord Hayagriva, and the Lion-Headed Lord Narasimha - from either-of-whose manes, an adequate string might Easily have been Plucked. But before Anyone had Answered, she saw the tears in her best friend Laksmiś Eyes, and the slobber and foam dripping from Lord Narasimhaś jowls; and the frustration in the Eyes of the Stars -

and Her Sitar (with-which She Was One) self-repaired, self-tuned, drew her fingers to-its-frets - and began to sound the Saddest Raga under Our Sun; perhaps under Any Sun. . Its Sadness echoed-out, throughout the Milky Way. .

Every inhabitant of the Milky Way Galaxy who heard Lady Saraswatiś Song felt their eyes wetten, their throat clench - and their chest heave with heartache (or an equivalent emotional-anatomical experience, according to their body-type). This was not Easy Listening.

Chords of Grief with No End shook-the-bodies of the Galaxyś Inhabitants - and brought the Galaxy to a Halt - as if it were a Day of Remembrance of Something. Lady Saraswati and Her Sitar were wise, there were no simple solutions in their music, only paradox and unpredictability. "All is Perfect!" sang Saraswati and Sitar, "and yet this Human Panorama is repulsive and intolerable!"

In empathy with the Gids she´d popped-by to visit (hoping - unnecessarily, it turned-out - to pick-up a Sitar String) - Lady Saraswati and Sitar sobbed and sang: the Holocaust of the Trees; the Genocides of Species; the Poisoning of the Air, Soil and Water; and Humanityś Inhumanity to Humanity. . Until, slowly, they Changed their Tune. . What-had-been An Excruciating Lament, gathered pace and passion. .

III

Buddhi and Riddhi - the sensuous, lithe, nymph-like, humanoid Consorts of Lord Ganapati-Ganesh - had stopped their Extinction Dirges; and were listening-aghast to the rhythmic thudding of shot Elephants falling upon the earth - their own Ganapati-Ganeshś gentle children! Being slaughtered for after-dinner toothpicks, and cleverly-carved hairpins!

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Did this One Cruel Absurdity not Echo them All? Could the Humans not see the Wise Love in the Eyes of Elephants? Clearly not! Could they not see these Creatures were Ganapati-like Gods on Earth? Clearly not! The charming, geisha-like, unruffleable Buddhi and Riddhi were reddening with rage! Whether one believed in God, or Goddess, or Gids - or Nothing At All: still, here was Blasphemy! - both Here was the Desecration of the Temple of Existence! Here was Sacrilege. THIS - not sex - was Profanity!

As Saraswati and Sitar quickened, and now struck a distinctly-heavy-metal chord - the usually-so-sweet, and cute, and giggly Buddhi and Riddhi tore at their clothes and hair hysterically - while Improvised Lyrics spat like fire, from their irresistibly-erotic Humanoid Lips.

Buddhi and Riddhi spat and sang in the Holy Tongue of the Gids - but, paraphrased, They Sung This:

"What the Fuck, you Lunatics?!

What the Fuck?!

Have you Lost your Minds?

Have you Lost your Hearts?

Clearly! Clearly! Clearly you have!

You ARE The World youŕe consuming!

Isn´t that clear? Isn´t that clear? Isn´t that clear - you Maniacs!

Youŕe eating yourselves - you Psychotic Cannibals!1

Some Gids call you Śadists´.

Buddhi and Riddhi say you are Masochists -

with faces deformed by self-hate!

You are delusional -

slaves to the Voices in your Heads -

ordering you to chew-on your own fingers-and-toes.

You don´t need a good-talking-to, you Crazed Little Monkeys -

you need a good-spanking!

What the Fuck!!!

You can´t just devour -

you vain and vicious Madmen and Madwomen and Madywon!

Devour, devour, devour, devour. .

Of course you are terminally-ill!

Of course your insanity torments-you!

Of course you are suicidal!

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Come here, Human Beings, come here close -

let Buddhi and Riddhi slap you around-the-face:

like this!

And this!

And this!

You are deranged and delirious Little Cannibal Lunatics -

and Life will give you more than-a-slap!

So come-here - you sadistic, masochistic, demented Monkey Cannibal Maniacs!

Come here, let Buddhi and Riddhi slap-some Love into-you. .

Like this!

And this!

And this!

Then thank the Gids you got-off-lightly!

And Stop your Cannibalism Now!"

Notes:

1. Strictly speaking, one might say, Buddhi and Riddhi are mistaken: Cannibalism is the habit of eating Others of your Own Species, whereas Self Eating is Autosarcophagy - or just plain olÁutocannibalism. However, we do need to take into account that Buddhi and Riddhi were distressed at-the-time of singing.

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30

The Uuuurgasauri

I

he twenty-five Stars of no-discernable-gender who´d been invited to the Solar System Supper; and sat side-by-side with the likes of Lady Lakshmi, Lord T Hayagriva and Hanuman; were dining-out in the Firmament, telling and retelling anecdotes from that fabulously-profound, compassionate, reaffirming, unifying, Ambrosia-soaked Evening.

The Other Stars wanted to know EVERYTHING: the colour of Hanuman and Gaiaś Living Room walls; whether there were framed photos on the mantlepiece - whether there was a mantlepiece; whether there was a fireplace; whether there were pictures on the walls... pictures of what?; was there music?, what music? - and could they have the playlist? What was Ganapati-Ganesh REALLY like? Was he really half-human, half Elephant? Could you see the join in his neck? How exactly did he eat with four arms?

Was he upper-right handed, or lower-lefted, or omnidextrous? Or did he just use his trunk? What was the tone of his voice? How did he smile? What amused him? Did anything displease him? The questions went on and on and on. The Firmament was buzzing with information and delight.

Now, most Humans don´t know this, but: the Stars talk to the Trees, and the Trees talk to the Trees - the Stars in pure, trembling, ET-go-home-like voices; the Trees in a more rounded, laid-back, Rootsy Old Rasta-style. .

Stellar Sweetness descends, and Arboreal Warmth ascends - day and night, century after century, eon after eon. In these Energy Currents zillions of gigabytes of cosmic information is exchanged. The Trees pass the Stars stories packed with the details of Earthly life-and-death: who is blossoming, who is fruiting, and who is going-to-seed; the Ways of the Winds; Oak Family Gossip; Human Atrocity News; hereditary information regarding the Banyan Family and Mangrove Family Trees; bird migration updates. .

The Stars pass the Trees stories from the Heavens: who is exploding, who is twinkling, who is just-about-out; what Comets went which-way-when: Astrological Bulletins (yes, for the Trees, like for Everyone Else - Autumn is the birth-time of Virgos and Libras); and astonishing, humbling videos of super-novas, cute-kittens, and black-holes in Galaxies Far Far Away; again, I could go on. . The Earth-Stellar Information Space is 136

packed with useful and amusing titbits of trivia; Epic Sagas of Cosmic Evolution - and the Latest News of the Gids.

At-that-moment, the Latest Earth-Stellar Information Space News probably-read something-like this:

Emergency Meeting of the Gids!

- Lord Hanuman declares Planet Earth a Pulpy Mush! -

Last night; due to solar-systemic concerns for Planet Earth; and specifically, concerns-about, and concerns-for, the Human Species. .

Under the guise of A Supper Party at Lord Hanuman and Ladyboy Gaiaś Place; as witnessed by twenty-five reliable, up-shining Stars: there-was An Emergency Meeting of the Gids.

Lord Surya - tipsy on Ambrosial Champagne, but lucid nonetheless -

critiqued the Human Romanticisation and Moral-Sterilisation of Eden. He elaborated-eloquently on the Ubiquity and Perpetuity of the Radiance of Eden. "EVERYTHING Shines Edenically from-within", the Sun God affirmed.

In this Tipsy yet Philosophical Party Mood, Lord Hanuman and Ladyboy Gaia, Guardians and Carers Of Planet Earth, reported-on the (edenically glowing) Pulpy Apocalyptic Gestative Mush, within-which the immensely-planetarily-influential Human Species is currently thrashing-about - like a Baby

trying to Punch its way-out of a Womb.

The Firmament twinkled with such information, twenty-four/seven. As-they-say: the Sky never Sleeps! And, yes, On Earth, it didn´t-take-long for Everyone to Know, because - if the Stars know, the Trees soon find-out; and if the Trees find-out, soon the Family of All Creatures knows. Even some Humans found-out - but only those who were undergoing their-own-unique Werewolf-like, or Vampire-like, Metamorphosis (in the nicest sense, of course) - and Becoming Animals Again.

II

Other News came via Sobli and her PR Team. .

In an Emergency Meeting with HanuHanu, the Tribe Elders, and whoever Else wanted to-be-there; Sobli - sporting bracelets of woven grasses, and anklets of wood-pigeon 137

feathers - explained about the Dazzling and Cruel Extraterrestrial Giant Uuuurgasauri Peacock Butterflies. .

Sobliś Team had set-up a Big Screen in the Amphitheatre - upon which they projected IRSREPś (infra-red, spectral, remagnetised photographs) of some of the Most Famous filmstars, popstars, footballers, YouTubers, Lepidopterologists, and Ministers of Education in the Human World. These were Not Photographs of their Outer Bodies, but IRSREPś (infra-red, spectral, remagnetised photos), that saw-through the Human Cladding of these Celebrities, and showed-you what was on-the-inside. .

The IRSREPś revealed that something had gotten into-them, and eaten-away at them from-the-inside, and kept only their Sack of Celebrity Skin. Yes, some of the Human Familyś most beloved role models and fantasy-lovers, were actually Giant Uuuurgasauri Peacock Butterflies - like the Kind of Creatures the Men in Black rid the Earth of; except, of course, the Men in Black are an amusing fantasy, and the venomous Uuuurgasauri Butterfly slicing-machines are not-funny-at-all.

In some, more intimate, photos - The Uuuurgasauri could-be-seen putting-on and taking-off their Celebrity Skin Sacks - much as Humans do Clothes.1 Most disconcerting of all, Sobli informed the Amphitheatre (now Full of Creatures of all Sorts): the Dazzling and Cruel Extraterrestrial Uuuurgasauri Butterflies had Hypnotic Powers far, far beyond even those of The Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys!

"If an Uuuurgasaurus Butterfly wants you to believe you are a Fish, youĺl fall to the ground, and die of suffocation!" Sobli asserted, sensationally. But her winged, furred, scaled and skinned Audience weren´t that-impressed. Sobli persisted: "If an Uuuurgasaurus Butterfly wants a whole Human Nation to believe it is In Bliss sitting in cars, sitting in offices, walking on concrete, standing at production lines, working to buy a life-and-deathstyle for which it has no need - it can!" "Noooooo!" exclaimed the Amphitheatre, as One.

III

They have six legs, like all Butterflies, but stand upright - glaring threateningly - on their two hind legs - their glorious and hyper-sensitive Giant Peacock Wings twitching on their backs. They feed on the Big Maggots that eat the Little Maggots in Rotting Meat - slicing-up their prey with their proboscises, with the efficiency of an Automated Abattoir. A venom fatal to Anything that Breathes drips from their antennae. They are narcissistic and vicious.

The spectacularly-beautiful Uuuurgasauri Peacock Butterflies consider themselves The Superior Species in the Universe. (A concept, I am sure it will not Escape your Notice, 138

not unlike the Human concept of Species Superiority in relation to Planet Earth.) They spit in the face of Individual Freedom, they ridicule Equality, they mock Staying in oneś Own Unique Experience - "we Create your Realities, you vermin!" the sneer with their slimy Butterfly snort, "It is Our Will you do!"

Now, having landed on Earth, and inhabited the bodies of Human Entertainers, Prominent Lepidopterologists and Celebrity Bureaucrats, the Uuuurgasauri were sneeringly-confident they would leave the Earth a Wasteplanet - as-they-had so many planets before-Earth.

In highly improbable, highly classified, highly unverifiable Tapes of Tapped Telephone Conversations between the Topmost Uuuurgasauri Tyrants, you can almost smell their Foul Butterfly Breath, as they are-heard gloating: "These Earth Humans, they are such a pleasure to manipulate! They are so cooperative! It is such a pleasure to meet a Species whose narcissism is so similar to our own! (guttural chortling sounds. . spitting and spewing. .) They are Tight - but not as Tight as Us! (louder chortling. . more gobbing and flobbing. . throwing-up. .) They still have some Tightening-Up to do though! (even louder incoherent chortling. . distinct snorting. . and then it sounds like one of the Uuuurgasauri Butterflies has fallen off its chair. .) Still, they are like us - they are our vile Little Cousins!" (the other Uuuurgasaurus falls off its chair. . they both reel-about, smashing their host-families´ furniture as they reel - possessed - like epileptic pterodactyls).

Sobli even projected intra-uterine images of pregnant Tightness Celebrities, whose wombs were a wriggling larva-bed of Baby Uuuurgasauri Caterpillars. (They are born in Broods of a Dozen.) This, by the way, let me add, explains the mystery of why so many Celebrities, Lepidopterologists and Political Entertainers have thirty, forty, or fifty children.

Notes:

1. The Uuuurgasauri Butterflies have adapted-well to life-and-death in a Human Skin Sack. They get home to their Hollywood and Hollywood-like Mansions at night, hang their Skin Sack Jumpsuits on gold-plated pegs-on-their-walls, and go for A Stretch and A Flutter in one-of-the Secret Luxury Aviary-like Structures they´ve had constructed in their gardens, especially for such moments - as-well-as, as safe spaces for the Children to flutter-about in. The Uuuurgasauri have, though - despite the tightness of their Mansion Security - been repeatedly filmed in flight; and the Library of Blurry and Featureless Images is a chilling-139

reminder: not only that They Are Among Us, but also that Evidence, Logic and Honesty are Only Very Minor Factors in determining Human Belief.

The principal difficulty the Uuuurgasauri have with their Human Skin Sacks is that, at a deep, inner, instinctive-genetic level of their Being, the Skin Sacks take-them-back to Happy Times Long Ago, when they were In Chrysalis. This causes them to yawn-and-stretch involuntarily

- creating friction, and therefore wear-and-tear on the inside of the Sacks. Plus, śhit happens´ (as they say) - so the Uuuurgasauriś Celebrity Skin Sacks also get scratched and torn from the outside. They require quite some upkeep. This is why so many Celebrities are so fond of Plastic Surgery.

Although the Surgical Reconstruction of Oneś Uniqueness, in order to Resemble a temporarily-fashionable Abstraction of Beauty is popularly-judged by many members of The Human Species as vain, superficial and, ultimately, tragic - in actual fact, Celebrity Plastic Surgery is nothing-of-the-sort. It is - much less glamorously - just Regular Uuuurgasauri Maintenance Work, needed in order to sustain the functionality of their disguise.

140

31

Ecstatic Shock Therapy

I

ack at the Tightnessś Military Facilities - the Top Dog Military Personnel were, B a t that-exact-moment, Rather Ruffled. Embarrassed, letś say. The ShunShunShoola-DNA-Dodging Bullets had been manufactured, spat-upon and shone. They had been loaded almost-ritualistically into the Tightnessśtate-of-the-art missile-launchers. They had been aimed at the Heart of the Giant Orange Monkey Essex Estate. .

The Big Brass had been there, walking-about In Uniforms, saluting Each Other, and saying-things Loudly on Loudspeakers. But - despite all of their pre-testing and dummy-runs - when the appropriately-named General Whazam Kapow Splat had pressed The Magic Button - the missile-launchers had fizzled and futtered and sputtered-a-bit; and functioned no-more.

So great was the Tightness Militaryś disdain for the Giant Orange Monkey Species; and so accumulated had that disdain become, during the whole DNA-Dodging-Bullet development process - that even-as General Whazam Kapow Splatś Finger was moving towards the Button that said ´Fire!´, to press it - ShunShunShoola was already having-a-fit - shrieking as no Giant Orange Monkey had ever heard it shriek! Which is why the Button that said ´Fire!ĺet-off sparks; and the Finger that pressed the Button got an electric-shock, and went black; and around the Military Facility, steam gushed out of unexpected places.

The Military Technicians of the Tightness banged their hammers harder, and twisted their screwdrivers tighter - becoming more-and-more disdainful, as they hammered and screwed. But hammer-and-screw as they may - no fault could be-found. "We don´t understand it, General Splat, Sir!" The Military Technicians of the Tightness despaired. "We greased every sprocket and rod. Even the grease was greased. And yesterday everything was squeaky spit-and-span, and functioning top-notch, and should´ve been able to shoot bullets right-through ShunShunShoolaś DNA - straight into the big, hairy bellies of those trouble-making Monkey Monsters! But no fault can-be-found, General Splat - Sir!"

However, as-if by some-divine-irony; it was in this Moment of Emotional Limbo -

ruffled and embarrassed; frustrated and impatient - that the Military Leaders of the 141

Tightness; inspired, perhaps, by their deep appreciation of Ancient Greco-Roman Military History; were blessed by the Military Muse. . It just came-to-them - like a ready-written concerto: a plan for an interim-attack: Plan Trojan Banana: They would quickly genetically-modify Bananas, so that they grew to be bigger-even-than the Giant Orange Monkeys themselves. And as a symbol of their pretended-goodwill; they would wheel one of these more-than-five-metre long, fresh, juicy and odorous Bananas to the Front Gates of the HanuHanu Tribe Estate. The Banana would be hollowed-out in-advance, and lined with the same compound out-of-which they´d made the bullets - so that any nastiness in-the-hearts of the Battalion of Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers, who would be scrunched-up-together inside the Giant Banana -

would go undetected. As a final touch, to make it all-the-more-tempting - the Giant Banana would be sprayed with industrial-quantities of vanilla-essence and cinnamon.

Once inside the Estate, the Battalion of Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers would leap-out of the Giant Banana, get-out their Machine Guns, aim bullets anywhere, and Kill all the Monkeys. It was plausible. It was doable. And it had been done before - and it had worked! In fact, the probabilities of the success of Plan Trojan Banana were felt-to-be so high, that ShunShunShoola-DNA-Dodging Bullet Missile-Launcher Repairs were put-on-pause.

The genetic-modification was easy and quick. Mile-high Palms fruited bunches of ten and twenty-metre-long Bananas. One was felled and hollowed-out, and lined with a metal-casing of the ShunShunShoola-DNA-Dodging Compound. The Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers climbed inside - as-always: when and how they were told to; following-orders unquestioningly - and thus abandoning-pitifully their Own Integrity and Dignity. Their hearts too, followed unquestioningly; feeling as-ordered - genuinely experiencing their Hatred of the Big Monkeys - none-of-whom any-of-them had ever-met - as their own.

II

It was an extremely-unexpectedly-bumpy ride from the Military Facility to the Front Gates of the Giant Orange Monkey Estate. By the time the Giant Banana was parked outside the Gates - girdled in a pink-ribbon knotted in a bow, and decorated with big Smiley Face stickers - the Battalion of Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers were bashed-and-bruised all over. One had even broken-a-leg. At least it smelt of Cinnamon and Vanilla in-there.

ShunShunShoola told the Tribe Elders it couldn´t feel-through the centre of the Giant Banana - that it seemed something was hidden inside. HanuHanu asked me to have a peek, As Energy - the way-I-do, when I visit Lovers in their Dreams. So off-I-took, bow-142

and-arrow in hand, and fluttered though the innards of the Trojan Banana. And there, sure enough - by the Moonlight Glow of my Quiver; and the soft Green Glow of my Arrows of Kryptonite and Love - my-blind-eyes beheld, crouched and huddled: a dozen-or-so of the Tightnessś most-devoted Elite Alpha Soldiers - Human Beings so vacant-and-numb, they would kill someone they didn´t know, because someone else had told them to do so.

I reported back to HanuHanu, Gooj, Koshofu, Garangula, Besheesha, Tunundum and the Other Tribe Elders. There was silence among the leaves, as they assimilated the information. HanuHanuś eyes turned inwards-and-upwards, and Hanuman was-about-him. Tunundum and Garangula were respectively biologically and microbiologically fascinated by the gigantic, genetically-modified Banana Itself. Gooj was beaming. Koshofu was recording voice notes. Besheesha was sat-quietly, some squirrels and mice on her lap - listening, quietly, with-them. Listening - as the Tale of the Trojan Banana unpeeled..

After perhaps-a-half an hourś silence - in which we had communed profoundly - and examined together, Like Lovers, each energetic possibility, and its potential outcomes

- we came to A Unanimous Feeling: that these Humans; about-to-be Our Captives; were emblematic, if not a caricature, of The Tightness - and that, therefore, they presented an exceptionally-interesting experimental possibility. . If Humans such as these could be Returned to Eden - then who couldn´t?! It was irresistible! A Blast of Eden it would be! It would be shocking. It would be Shock Treatment. But it would not be Convulsive - it would be Ecstatic! It would be Healing by Ecstasy... It would be Ecstatic Shock Therapy!

And so it was, that very-eve, that the Estate Gates were opened; and the Trojan Banana was wheeled-in, by two young, strong Giant Orange Monkey Trickster Warriors. .

III

It was another bumpy ride, along the muddy, stoney paths of the Essex Estate, down to Lake Wet - where the two young Trickster Warriors had been told to Park the Banana.

There, on-the-inside, rattled and bruised, The Battalion of Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers listened-intently to the Sounds on the Outside - the light beams from their head torches criss-crossing as they checked-their-gear, synchronised themselves, released the safety-catches on their machine guns, and got in the mood..

It wasn´t easy to muster-up oneś hatred, though - with such sweet singing wafting-in through the Giant Banana Skin. What was it? It was so melodious. And so comforting!

It was like a lullaby! Despite themselves - the Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers began-to-feel happy; like little fetuses - content in-utero, deep in the Belly of the Banana.

143

And so it was, that their eyelids got heavier and heavier - as-if Under Orders - and the Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers fell peacefully, one-by-one, into the familiarity of their nightly nightmares. .

The two young Giant Orange Monkey Trickster Warriors opened the Banana Door; and picked-up the Sleeping Soldiers, one-by-one, with the tenderness We All Feel -

even towards the Babies of Other Species. . And lay them to rest, in human-size tents; where they awoke, that-next-morning, beside Lake Wet - whose Mermaids and Mermen and Merlywerls, and Troupe of Elves, had all been-primed to Be Especially Nice to Them.

The tents were equipped with all-a-camper-could-need: beds of leaves, feathers and straw; fur tinder, twig kindling and flint-and-steel to spark a flame; clay pots and wooden spoons; and chests Woven of Willow in Which to store oneś uniform, flame-thrower, machine-guns, spare bullets, and pistols...

As Each Elite Alpha Tightness Soldier came-out of their tent that-new-day - toned, tattooed and confused - and beheld Lake Wet: the Mermaids and Mermen and Merlywerls lazing-about on the rocks; the Light Hearted Elves playing at the Lakeside..

one-by-one, as-if obeying some Higher Command - they Reeled with Reality Shock.

This was impossible! Had they died-inside the Ńana? Or was this Narnia? This was certainly-not the Hell they believed-they-deserved, after so-much murder and mayhem! Or was Lake Wet a Shared Dream? Or had they crossed a threshold - a Portal to a Parallel Fairytale Earth?

Their Seeing having been painstakingly streamlined to see-only Through the Eyes of the Tightness - with almost-tedious predictability; one-by-one, one-after-another, as-if in line - the Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers looked at Each Other through goggly, spinning, psychedelicised eyes; and said, pithily "We have been drugged!"

As the days passed though, and, apparently, this drug didn´t wear-off - the Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers began-to-dare to talk to the Mermaids and Mermen and Merlywerls

- as-if they were real. "Do you speak English?" a Lieutenant asked a Merman. "Yes!" he replied. "Where are we? Where is this?" the Lieutenant asked-slowly, enunciating every-syllable with the extra-clarity Needed for a Merperson. "This is Lake Wet, on the HanuHanu Giant Orange Monkey Estate in Essex, near London, England" said the Merman, smiling gently. These strange Creatures were so - NICE! And their breasts-and-chests were more-attractive, than any breasts-or-chests these Citizens of the Tightness had ever-seen!

The Elves were less sensual, but more sparkly - and SO keen and energetic! The Merpeople brought the Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers delicious Lake Wet algae; and 144

the Elves brought them just-picked, organic vegetables and fruits from the Estate Forest. . Breakfasts, lunches, and suppers rolled-by. The Sun lit the Lake by Day. The Moon lit the Lake by Night. Magical Scene after Magical Scene lit the Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers´ Perceptual Grid. . They were Dazed, and yet, somehow, Delighted..

The prolonged cognitive-dissonance of Ecstatic Shock Therapy was relaxing their hard, almost-metallic synapses. Flashes of Joy crackled behind-their-eyes. Undreamed of Concepts: Eating as a Sacrament; Urinating as a Sacrament; Laughing as a Sacrament

- concepts too-many, too-complex and too-cosmic to encapsulate - whizzed-about inside their brains, like ball-bearings in a pinball machine..

As The Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers forgot-all-about Giant Orange Monkeys; that there was Someone or Something they were Supposed to Hate; and about Hate Itself -

they started to enjoy-being-there. You had-to-admit, it was beautiful there. It Was Weird, yes - relative to the familiar - but, hey: the Whole World had felt Weird when they were babies - and they´d got-used to it!

As the Full Moon approached, being-with the Merpeople, Elves and Creatures of Lake Wet was beginning-to-feel - like Paradise! Except for one thing: Sex! "No, there is a way" said a Mermaid, eyeing-up a horny Alpha Soldierś horn - "but it only opens down below". "What only opens down below?" the Alpha Asked. "My vagina only opens underwater" she smiled, indulging his human naivety, enticingly.

And so it was, that the Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers learnt to have Sex with Merpeople underwater; to cook and eat at the lakeside at dawn, noon and dusk; to Bathe in the Magical Atmosphere of Lake Wet; and to gradually open to the possibility that Existence might-not be Hostile, and need to be defended-against. . The possibility-that Existence might-be friendly, and kind, and eager to lend-a-hand..

As their Synapses Reconfigured to Accommodate this Awakening, within-a-week, if-not-less - the Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers all came-to-feel, with an unfamiliar-sincerity: that their Act of Greatest Imaginable Courage would-be: to Chill Out, and Let Go - and let Existence flow-on however it might be-wont-to.

Then after five-weeks - after much Mermaid and Merman and Merlywerl sex; many moon and starlit campfires singing Bob Dylanś Blowing in the Wind1 with HanuHanu, me, Gooj, and the Others; many Real Food lakeside breakfasts, lunches and suppers with the Estate Deer, Otters and Bees - and many-a-midnight snack with the Estate Bats; and having developed a genuinely-affectionate repartee with the Elves..

suddenly.. and without-a-stated-reason: the Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers were told, they were free-to-go!

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IV

They were met at the Estate Gates by Humans in Highly Codified Clothing - clothing with significant tassels, stars and stripes, gangsta bling, and glow-in-the-dark buckles

- all-of-which seemed, to the now-chilled and unstirred Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers, to communicate to them that: They (the Wearers of the Highly Codified Clothing), were asserting their superiority, over Them (the Elite Alpha Soldiers)..

"Youŕe just a man like me, you know!" splurted-out one of the Soldiers, with unprecedented and inappropriate-authenticity. "I beg your pardon?" said the General of Staff, Admiral of the Fleet, and Minister of Existence. "Itś just an outfit. We can still talk man-to-man!" said the Soldier. "I beg your pardon?" the General stammered, once-again; taken quite off-guard by the Audacity of such Insolence. "I don´t want to dress up, and fight people anymore!" said the now all-but-ex Elite Alpha Tightness Soldier.

The General-Admiral-Minister nodded to two of his Bodyguards - who knew, almost-telepathically, to escort the All-But-Ex-Elite Alpha Tightness Soldier to a quieter place

- where he could rest; and his Sanity, perhaps, be Saved.

But, of course, the Psychic Reality was quite-the-contrary: their Synaptic Sanity had just-been Soldered back-into-place. Mermo-Elfin Ecstatic Shock Therapy had worked!

Just as we had-hoped it would - on that-first-evening, when the Essex Estate Elders had met to consider how-to-respond to the arrival of the Trojan Banana; gift-wrapped in a pink ribbon, irresistibly-cinnamony - just Outside the Estate Gates.

After only-five-weeks Outside the Human Mindset - after only-five-weeks-with the Merpeople, Elves, Giant Orange Monkeys, and assorted Creatures of the Essex Estate

- Human Power Codes no-longer mades-any-sense to these Soldiers. It did not matter-anymore what Clothes you were Clothed in - we were all Naked Underneath! We were all Equals: Humans, Merpeople, Elves, Giant Orange Monkeys and Hamsters. They stood at-ease, because they felt at-ease. And they spoke to the Humans in Highly Codified Clothing like old-friends; like old-friends dressed-up in Highly Codified Clothes for-fun - like at a Fancy Dress Party.

The Tightness Militia ushered and hurried the Released Captives into dark-tinted-windowed, emotionally-dark vehicles; Suspecting they were in Shock. And indeed -

they were! But not from the last month-or-so! Not from sex with Merpeople, or joking-about with Elves, or from singing under-the-moon with Giant Orange Monkeys! They were shocked by the-last-half-hour! They were shocked by the babyishness of the Admiral-General-Minister; and of the sub-Generals and sub-sub-Generals at his sides

- all of whom, it seemed to these freshly-awoken, about-to-be-renegade, about-to-be-ex Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers - were taking this dressing-up far too-earnestly.

Perturbingly-earnestly, in fact.

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The about-to-be Ex Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers were driven-away. They waved-back affectionately at the Giant Orange Monkeys, Elves, Trees (a few with Merpeople in their branches); and the Rabbits, Beetles, Eels and Others who were jumping up-and-down, waving - and blowing-them kisses. The rescue was complete. The Cavalcade of Importance drove-back towards the Tightness Military Facility. . Once-there, these Heroes would be quarantined, interrogated interminably - and made to feel-at-home.

The drive was a little-scary, at times, because the Soldiers at the Wheels of the Cavalcade Cars would Salute, and Shout "yes, sir!" - at every GPS instruction. The Heroes sat-quietly on back seats; a couple in each car - almost as in-shock to re-encounter This Reality, as they had once-been to Encounter the Magical World of Lake Wet.. Only the Admiral-General-Minister suspected. Could it be-possible that, like Jake Sully in Avatar, these Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers had ´gone native´? Could it be-possible that, in only-five-weeks, the Giant Orange Monkeys had broken-them; and brainwashed-them - and put them back-on their feet? What subtle, sophisticated, Advanced Monkey Torture Technologies had they used? Could they, the Military Leaders of the Tightness, get-hold of these Monkey Technologies - and turn-them to their own-ends? Such were the suspicions, and such was the scheming, Sparking-about in the Synapses of the Brain of the Admiral-General-Minister.

The Admiral-General-Minister was a Great Admirer of Speed. Nothing impressed him more than someone-doing-something fast. The drivers knew this, and hurtled towards the Quarantine and Interrogation Sector of the Military Facility - Saluting and Shouting vigorously at their GPSś. .

Upon arrival, the Rescued Heroes got-out of the dark cars - and were applauded by the entire Facility Staff! Guns were fired aimlessly. Flags went up-and-down flagpoles.

Fountains of fireworks expressed the Faithful Facilityś Joy! The Music of Victory sounded through the Military Facility. There were Trumpets! There were Drums!

There were Converted Church Organs! Anthems to Unquestioning Obedience; to Making a Living by Selling your Soul; to the Noble Sacrifice of all Self Respect; to the Betrayal of the Human Family; and to the Betrayal of All Existence - blasted-out of the Military Facility Loudspeakers, gloriously.

Small, quickly-engraved, metal discs on borrowed necklace-chains, were hung around the HeroesŃecks. This was done with such elaborate, ceremonial pomposity and conviction, that even the Military Dogs who were Watching, cocked their heads to-one-side - asking themselves if they´d missed something; doubting themselves -

wondering whether, perhaps, all of this DID mean something. .

The Heroes Themselves felt trapped in a Lunatic Pantomime, that Everyone seemed to be taking-for-real. They bided their time though. Their Elite Alpha Tightness Soldier 147

Training was serving them now. They waited. They knew they had become imposters

- nay, traitors! They were in Love with the Family of Existence - and that was unforgivable! Images from the-last-fortnight tumbled through their memories: lying beneath ZaZaZaś branches, in-peace, at the Lakeside. Singing Beatles Medlies with the Giant Orange Monkeys around the sparkling-campfire, beneath the sparkling-stars.

And oh-yes: underwater-sex with Mermaids, Mermen, and Merlywerls as uninhibitedly-loving as the Priestess Whores of Old. And oh-yes: the Laughter of the Elves - and their childish-wise, mischievous play!

The Soldiers conferred and made A Clever Plan: they would feign normality! It was far-fetched - and, yet - yes - it worked! "Weŕe fine", they would say to doctor-after-doctor, and psychiatrist-after-psychiatrist. "Those Big Apes didn´t hurt us. They just held-us, then released-us. When can we go-back and Rip their Heads off? And Bounce About on their Dead Bodies? When, when, when? Give us Back our Guns! Give us Back our Guns!" With reassuring words such-as-these, they spat spittle in interview-after-interview; bored all the Doctors and Psychiatrists with their ordinariness - and were quickly sent home-to-rest. But, of course - once-there - they ran!

Hidden in New Identities, they all joined the Pro-HanuHanu Paramilitary Pacifist Underground - who were predominantly vegan; ate only local, organic, unpackaged food; and operated by Sociocracy. Most made Career Changes. One opened The Trojan Banana Smoothie Franchise Chain. Another became a Merpeopleś Rights Activist.

Another travelled the globe collecting Elflore from Elf Minstrels, Bards and Sorcerers

- and made-a-living publishing books of Elf Jokes. There was no-going-back now. They had Felt Love. They Knew They Belonged.

Notes:

1. Bob Dylanś ´Blowing in the Windís a particular favourite of HanuHanuś - since, for him, it feels like an Ode to Vayu, the Wind God, his Grandfather.

I remember a-time when we were sitting-around a Fire in the Night, when Lucy, a young Giant Orange Monkey who considers-herself a Bit of a Hippie, remarked "you see, itś as Bob Dylan says - The Answer is Elusive, and forever being-blown Beyond oneś Reach!" "Because itś Blowing in the Wind, you mean, Lucy?" HanuHanu asked her. "Exactly"

said Lucy. HanuHanu reflected-a-moment, then said "I see! I had always felt-that-lyric differently - to mean that The Answer IS Blowing in the Wind - that if one sought The Answer, one only need put oneś 148

cheek to the breeze, or oneś chin to the storm - and there it would be: The Answer!" HanuHanu was deeply Fond of the Song.

149

32

The Trojan Banana Spa Resorts

I

he remarkable success of the Mermo-Elfin Ecstatic Shock Therapy was the Talk of the Estate. Could this Unobtrusive Healing Modality be reproduced? Could T the Whole Human Species be Shocked into Sanity? Could they, the Giant Orange Monkeys accomplish such-a-thing alone? Perhaps in collaboration with the Humans?

Questions such-as-these resulted-in HanuHanu calling five of his most influential, entrepreneurial Human Friends: Elon Musk, Richard Branson, Oprah Winfrey, Tony Robbins, and Deepak Chopra. "Come quick!" he urged. The five of them agreed to meet-with-him that very weekend, at the Essex Estate

At the meeting, HanuHanu said this: "I have a Story. And a Question. Tonight I will tell the Story, and tomorrow I will ask the Question." The Story he told was the Story of a Trojan Banana packed with Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers-with-Machine-Guns -

who became the friends and lovers of Mermaids, Mermen, Merlywerls, Elves, Trees, Otters, Bats and Giant Orange Monkeys. It was the story of heart-blocked, soul-sacrificed Tightness Payrolled Assassins; whose brains went into Spontaneous Reconfiguration when confronted with a Reality so Beautiful, Loving and Magical, that it contradicted Everything they Believed they Knew about a brutal, cut-throat, dog-eats-dog, survival-of-the-horriblest world.

It was the story of the discovery of Mermo-Elfin Ecstatic Shock Therapy - of a psychological Supertherapy so powerful, that an entire Battalion of Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers had come to laugh-at-themselves in disbelief, to sob in shame - and to forgive themselves their trespasses, their invasions, their massacres and their atrocities - in only-five-weeks!

That was The Story. Elon, Richard, Oprah, Tony and Deepak were intrigued. They sipped on their English Tea, dunked their digestive biscuits, and pondered. Their five, brilliant, multi-zillionaire-minds flicked through the implications of this disclosure.

Then five Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys escorted them in silence down to Lake Wet

- to the very same spot where the Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers had sat with ZaZaZa, and learnt to be still; and made-love with the Merpeople; and rolled-about in Hysterics with the Elves.

150

In fact, when Elon, Richard, Oprah, Tony and Deepak emerged from their tents the next morning; rubbing their eyes, mildly dazzled by the Morning Sun shimmering-the-surface of Lake Wet; and beheld the Merpeople (waving to them from the waters), and the Elves (waving excitedly from behind the bushes) - the Merpeople and Elves they´d only-heard-about (in HanuHanuś tale) until now - they asked themselves (more or less) the same question the Elite Alpha Soldiers of the Tightness had asked: "had there a Drug in the Digestives?"

Distrust of the Giant Orange Monkeys slid insidiously through their minds. And an only-too-human Clinging to Other Humans for Species Security, slid alongside their distrust. Then they noticed the gluten-free, superfood-muffins baked with Fresh Spirulina from Lake Wet; and the fair-trade Hot Coffee that had been-a-gift from the Giant Orange Monkeys of the Jungle Tribe in South America Elon, Richard, Oprah, Tony and Deepak were struck-dumb by the elegance and sensuality of the Merpeople, and the lightness and glee of the Elves. Their mouths hung open. The coffee went cold. Enormous Vegetarian Seagulls swooped-down, and carried-off the Spirulina Muffins. Entranced, the Chosen Five rose and walked-in-reverence, in slow-motion, towards the Magical Merpeople and Elves. "Bow! Bow! Bow before us!" intoned an Elf. Instinctively, Elon, Richard, Oprah, Tony and Deepak began to go-down. Bubblets of Elvin Laughter filled-the-air, like Rain going Upwards. The Elvin Joker cried "No, no, no! I was only joking! Don´t kneel - we are no more Magical than You!" The Merpeople contained their amusement, affectionately. And that was how their friendship began. .

Elon, Richard, Oprah, Tony and Deepak hung-out, that day, with the Mermaids and Mermen and Merlywerls and Elves of Lake Wet; with ZaZaZa and the Willow Family; and the Many Creatures who came-and-went - supposedly-to-sip from the waters of Lake Wet, but really - to get a good look at The Human Five.

At first Elon, Richard, Oprah, Tony and Deepak were Clumsy Creatures - awkward, stiff and unsure. But by dusk; having lost their breakfasts, but banqueted at lunchtime on Elfin Food, and toasted the Family of All Creatures with the Merpeople, the Elves, and five Badgers who´d Invited Themselves for lunch; having caressed the resplendent breasts and chests of the Merpeople, and run their fingers through their silken, amphibious hair; having heard the gentle-firm-way ZaZaZa spoke to the Younger Willows; having played Catch with the Squirrels; having laughed in full-abandon as the Elves´ Tickled Out the Funniness in Everything - Elon, Richard, Oprah, Tony and Deepakś bodies had melted into a mushy Erotic Peace.

By the time, that evening, when HanuHanu, myself, and Half the Tribe arrived at the Lakeside; Elon, Richard, Oprah, Tony and Deepak knew-in-their-bones the Nature of 151

the Transformation the Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers had experienced. The Famous Five had known They Were Loved - but not like this! They had known They Belonged

- but they had never felt it like this. . in such an earthy, creatureful, sexual, time-stopped, radiant, sacred, happy way.

II

Elon, Richard, Oprah, Tony and Deepak sat-amid the Family of All Creatures, Visible and Invisible, at the edge of Lake Wet. The October Blood Moon was waxing half-full.

"Last night I said I had a story and a question" HanuHanu reminded Everyone. "The story was the story of the Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers, who underwent Mermo-Elfin Ecstatic Shock Therapy, and were Spontaneously Synaptically Reconfigured. They came-in Alienated, Frightened, Mind-Locked and Machine-Gunned - and went-out feeling much better!" The Family of All Creatures snickered and tittered. . They would´ve laughed out loud, but they toned-it-down, out of Respect for the Five Humans - whom they sensed might feel mocked.

"Elon, Richard, Oprah, Tony and Deepak - you have now directly-experienced a small-dose of Mermo-Elfin Ecstatic Shock Therapy. (The Soldiers of the Tightness were here for over-a-month.) But even this small-dose, I would imagine, will have convinced you of its Transformational Capacity - and so I feel I can I bring you my question: Elon, Richard, Oprah, Tony and Deepak - you are all visionary entrepreneurs. I want to establish a Global Network of Spa Resorts that offer this Therapy. The Merpeople and Elves have agreed. Is this something you´d like to make-happen?"

Eyes-of-all-sorts were on the Humans. The Humans looked at one another, eliciting hints-of-answers from Each Otherś Eyes. "How many resorts were you thinking of?"

asked Elon. "At least two hundred", said HanuHanu. "So the Merpeople and Elves will staff the Spas? Is that what you envision?" asked Oprah. "Not exactly" said HanuHanu,

"they would just be there-to-be-there. The Merpeople and Elves would be free to Be-With the Spa Guests. The simplicity of this unscripted Being-With is, after all, the Active Ingredient in Mermo-Elfin Ecstatic Shock Therapy.

I see Other Creatures staffing-the-spas - perhaps Sparrows, Ants and Deer. And I know some of the Ex Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers are looking for jobs." "Being-With this Wonderful Lake, and this Wonderful Estate, and so many Wonderful Creatures has also been a factor" observed Deepak. "Yes" said HanuHanu, "wherever we wanted to create a Spa we would first need to go-and-speak with the Trees there, and with all of the Local Residents. They would need to understand that they would, by their very-presence, be participating-in, and be part-of, the Treatment Modality. They would Need to Choose to-be-that."

152

Tony could contain himself no-longer! He ripped-off his clothes, screamed "Yes! Yes!

Yes!" at-least a thousand times - and dived into Moonlit Lake Wet. His arms whirred like propellers, and he span-around the Lake like a speedboat. "Thatś better!" he said, as he clambered up the lake-bank, and grabbed the hemp towel Richard had got-for-him, from one of the well-equipped tents. The Family of Creatures was delighted with Tony! They clapped and sang! A few Young Giant Orange Monkeys picked Tony up, and started Playing Catch with him. Tony surrendered, and enjoyed himself. He hadn´t felt so-small, among Others so-big, since he was a baby. Who of us has? Dizzy and Grinning - he called out to Elon, Richard, Oprah and Deepak: "So whatś YOUR

answer?"

It was inevitable: Trousers and Sweaters and Underwear sprayed into the air, like soil from a digging-pigś trotters.. The Final Four charged at the Lake - and, somehow, at the waterś edge, as if weightless, took-flight like Four Wild Geese! They skimmed the surface of the Lake as they flew. Then, like Dolphins, they ducked-and-dived, in-and-out, of the Lake, in undulating bounds and plunges - the Effervescent Spray proclaiming their Joy in the Moonlight!

Again - it was inevitable! It was contagious! Hundreds of Creatures, Visible and Invisible, dived into Lake Wet! Out in the Centre of the Lake the Merpeople leapt-and-dived with the Ecstatic Elon, Richard, Oprah and Deepak - the Seagull and Magpie Alliance pirouetting and double-back-flipping around them, as they splashed and flew, splashed and flew. . HanuHanu, Tony, and Other Creatures who wanted to stay-dry, watched from the Lakeside, enraptured. "Iĺl take that as a ´yes´", said HanuHanu, grinning.

And so-was-born the now-world-famous, Network of Trojan Banana Spa Resorts - the only places on Earth where Mermo-Elfin Ecstatic Shock Therapy is available - not because they have a monopoly, but because there aren´t enough Merpeople and Elves for more. Wherever the Spas were built, they were built under the supervision of the Local Trees, Plants and Grasses; and of the Local Creatures who move-about-there.

And everywhere - the Right to Veto anything, and the Last Word on everything; was given to The Elementals.

The Spas were all built with Matter from the Immediate Ecosphere, and the builders gave-back what they took. As the two-hundred-or-so Trojan Banana Spa Resorts took shape - adobe-brick by adobe-brick, straw-bale by straw-bale, and sand-stuffed-tyre by sand-stuffed-tyre - Ethnic-Chic Psychiatric Hospitals with a Twist - Merpeople would tour the construction sites in custom-built trucks half-full of Lake Wet Water -

advising on Lake Ecology, and their own Underwater Domestic Needs.

153

Elon, Richard, Oprah, Tony and Deepak invested zillions in the Trojan Banana Spa Resort Chain, which is now open, like blossom - all over the Human World. They made-their-money-back in the first year; and since-then all profits have gone to charity. The largest donations having been to the Society for the Protection of Childrenś Synapses; the Centre for the Study of the Greening of the City; the Small is Beautiful Horticultural and Agricultural College; the Fridge and Freezer WorkersÚnion for the Re-Freezing of the Polar Ice Caps; the Four-Sphered Education Lobby; the Micro-Plastic-Removal Colonic-Cleansing Clinic; the (deferentially named) Wakey Wakey Arts Initiative, and, of course, the Post-Apocalypse Survival Association, and the Association for Local-Eco-System-Specific Direct Action for the Return of the Human Species to the Family of All Species (the L.A.R.F. people).

And so-it-was, that General Whazam Kapow Splat and the Military Leaders of the Tightnessś ´Plan Trojan Bananaálmost-dared HanuHanu, and the Giant Orange Monkey Tribe Elders, to take a risk on Mermo-Elfin Ecstatic Shock Therapy. Which they did! And it worked!

And so-it-was, that We All witnessed the Synaptic Reconfiguration, and Existential Liberation, of a Battalion of Elite Alpha Tightness Soldiers. Unbelievable? Thatś what they would´ve said! But look at them now!

And so-it-was that Elon, Richard, Oprah, Deepak and Tony helped-us-share the Miracle of Ecstatic Shock Therapy with the Human World - so that today, if youŕe interested, you can book a Trojan Banana Spa Resort Ecstatic Shock Treatment almost-anywhere.

154

33

Jonny & Yoddy

I

he Gids were watching the Earth, but they weren´t the Only Ones. .

T In the Cosmic Laboratory; Yodrolmakclud, the Collective Consciousnesses of the Milky Way Galaxy; and John, the Collective Consciousness of the Andromedan Galaxy

- had the Earth under close scrutiny. The Earth interested them. It was interesting because, unlike many other-planets in their Galaxies - also, simultaneously, being Devoured by Viruses of various metabolic natures - the Earth was being-consumed by a Viral Species that seemed to have evolved the Capacity for Choice; or, at the very least, believed it had the Capacity for Choice - and Experienced, what felt-like something akin-to Choicemaking. In other words, the Viral Species under-observation, seemed-to-have the Capacity to Choose to be-viral - or not.

Yet most fascinating of-all, to the Collective Consciousness of the Andromedan Galaxy, and to its lab-coated chum, the Collective Consciousness of the Milky Way Galaxy - as they squinted through their Galactic Microscopes - was the Viral-Or-Not Human SpeciesĹack of Utilisation of this Capacity for Choice! It seemed-to-know it was desecrating the ecosphere that gave-it-life - yet continued to desecrate regardless. .

Then, one-day, in a tea-break at the lab: the Collective Consciousness of the Milky Way Galaxy suggested to the Collective Consciousness of the Andromedan Galaxy that it might be of Scientific Interest to convene a conference of the Gids of the Solar System that was home to the planet Earth. "John" said the Collective Consciousnesses of the Milky Way Galaxy, "perhaps Ganapati-Ganesh, Lady Lakshmi, and the others, could help us write a paper - something like, Choice and the Utilisation of Choice´ - which we could then, perhaps, present at next-eonś Galactic Psycho-Scientific Symposium: Synapses Synopses. What do you think?" "Yodrolmakclud" said John, excitedly, "thatś an intriguing possibility. Oh - and we must invite Lord Hanuman and Ladyboy Gaia -

after all, they Oversee the Earth! Yes, yes, yes! Letś do it!"

And so-it-was that: one-summer in some places, one-winter in others, and seasonlessly in yet others; one-day in some places, one-night in others, and sun-and-moonlessly in yet others - Solar System Conference Invitations were tied to the Backs of Comets with fireproof string, and launched in-all-directions - including Earthwards..

155

Comets are Inter-Galactic Messenger Stones. John and Yodrolmakclud aimed-and-fired these Messenger Stone Comets at precise targets within a mile of the homes of each of their guests. Into empty parking lots. Abandoned quarries. Places like that.

Lord Chandra and the Ladies Rohini and Revati had to be there - so off-went a Comet to the Moon! And the other Earth Elementals - Lady Varuna, Lord Vayu and Lord Agni

- they all needed to be there! So off-went Comets to the Source of All Water (Dear Lady Varuna. .); to the Flame at the Heart of Fire (Dear Lord Agni, you are cordially invited. .); and to the Breath in the Eye of the Storm (Dear Lord Vayu, you are cordially invited to attend Ćhoice and the Utilisation of Choice´, a conference intended to help us better-understand the Human Species of Planet Earth, in the Milky Way Galaxy. .).

Then there were Lord Surya, Lady Maya, and the other Planetary Guardians: Lady Lakshmi, the Horse-Headed Lord Hayagriva, and the Lion-Headed Lord Narasimha (Uranus, Jupiter, Neptune and Pluto); Elephant-Headed Ganapati-Ganesh and Buddhi and Riddhi (Saturn and Mars); and the green Boar-Headed Lord Varaha and Lady Varahi (Mercury and Venus). The presence of All the Guardians felt critical. They were key-players. Without their contributions, any Galactic Psycho-Scientific Symposium Paper would carry no weight at all. So off-went the Comets - the Conference/Dinner Party Invitation tied very-very-very tightly around them - to the Sun, and to the Ancestral Homes of the Guardians of the Planets of the Solar System.

And even the Collective Consciousnesses of the Milky Way and Andromedan Galaxies knew, that if they didn´t request-the-presence of the twenty-five Representatives of the gentle and generous Stars, they would never hear the-end-of-it. So off-too went Comets to the Stars.

Then - one-day, one-night, once beneath-and-upon a time - John (the Collective Consciousness of the billions of solar systems of the Andromedan Galaxy), and Yodrolmakclud (the Collective Consciousness of the billions of solar systems of the Milky Way Galaxy), at lunchtime in the lab cafeteria, were flicking through a copy of the HanuHanu Tribe Annals, when they came upon my transcription of Hanumanś reply to Lord Surya, at their then-recent Solar System Supper.

"John" said Yodrolmakclud, bouncing up-and-down on the chair, "you must read this!

Lord Hanuman says he has a Direct Descendent on Earth, listen: As we speak, Waves of Loving-Belonging, which (a few days ago), pulsed-out from the body of HanuHanu, my Direct Descendent on Earth, are circulating the planet - like a lullaby. And Listen to this: There are five Giant Orange Monkey Tribes on Earth, all with battalions of Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys eager to serve. Wow! And listen to THIS: Meanwhile, through a Lecture Series entitled "Wakey Wakey, Little Cousins", my Son, HanuHanu, Bearer of the Energies of My Lineage, is working on Mass Human Synaptic 156

Realignment - so that the Human Species will BE ABLE to act with thoughtfulness and grace, should it decide it wants to. Wow, Wow, Wow! Is this about choice, or is this about choice!!! We MUST invite HanuHanu and the Five Giant Orange Monkey Tribes!" Yodrolmakclud was almost shouting!

Collective Consciousnesses from Galaxies Even Further Away turned and frowned, and signalled ´hush´, and pointed to the sign that said ´hushón the cafeteria wall. But the Invitation Comets went-off that same afternoon - landing with a blazing thump not far from the front-doors of the five Earthly Giant Orange Monkey Tribes: to the HanuHanu Tribe Estate in Europe; to the South American Jungle Tribe of the Lost City of Plastic; to the Arctic Ice Tribe who had lived-and-died hidden, for five thousand years, in a climate-controlled, under-ice paradise; to the Asian Mountain Tribe who lived-and-died High in the Himalayas, in the Annapurna National Park, not far from Kathmandu; and to the African Desert Tribe who lived-and-died as Nomads in Northern Mali, in the Southern Sahara.

Jonny and Yoddy, who were best-friends, read more of the HanuHanu Tribe Annals...

"Yodrolmakclud" said John, soberly and soulfully, "there is another perspective that needs to be represented at the Conference". "Really?" said Yodrolmakclud, the Collective Consciousness of the billions of solar systems of the Milky Way Galaxy.

"Really!" said John, "we need to give space for the voice of the Other Creatures of the Earth!" Yodrolmakclud was gobsmacked. "How could we have made such an oversight?!" They were both shocked - and immediately, there and then, in the Cosmic Cafeteria, sent-off a Comet to Earth, to-nearby the Heartquarters of the Earth Alliance for the Dignity of All Creatures - with a bunch of Invitations tied to it, not just one.

The Gids, the Stars, the Elementals, the Giant Orange Monkeys, and the Elders of the Alliance for the Dignity of All Creatures all-untied their Invitations from their respective smouldering Comets, and read Jonny and Yoddyś Text. Jonny and Yoddy had brainstormed that Conference Title, over-and-over. They´d begun with ´The Earth, Humanity, Choice and the Awareness of Choice´. Which had become Án InterGalactic Examination of the extraordinary case of The Species that Thought it Could Choose, But Didn´t´. Which then evolved into ´Planet Earth (solar system five zillion and five) - the inception of an inter-galactic virus?´ But in-the-end, they´d settled on Ćhoice and the Utilisation of Choice - an Inter-Galactic Opportunity to dine and dance, and talk about the crazy humans´ - signed Yodrolmakclud (Milky Way) and John (Andromeda). The Invitees turned the Invitation over and over, looking back inside the envelope for something they might´ve missed.. But no - there was no date, no time, no location, no dress-code, not even a fun cryptic-clue, nothing. . "Well, thatś a shame"

I said, "I would have LOVED to have been-there at that Conference!" And I meant it.

And at-that-very-moment, I somehow knew where and when it would be, and that I was welcome! "Oh!" I said to myself, "THATŚ how you RSVP!"

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II

The Conference was also attended by other researchers at the Cosmic Lab; and by various Galactic Academics - Zoologists from the Canis Major Dwarf Galaxy with a special interest in Anthropology; Ecologists from the Sagittarius Dwarf Elliptical Galaxy, with a special interest in Systemic Collapse and Regeneration, and So On. .

The Conference itself would only last a split-second of human-time, but in that split-second (in fact, in much less, because a lot of the Conference was spent socialising) -

the Epic Dimensions of the Human Dilemma flashed like an electric shock through the minds of the Conferencees. Images from HanuHanuś mind flashed-up - illuminating his Hopes for Professor Koshofuś Hundred Human Effect, and his Faith in Human Four-Sphere Synaptic Education. There were images of Lady Varuna, clad in sad coral

- acidic and spitting microplastic; images of Lord Vayu, cloud-clad - coughing up chemtrails; and images of Ladyboy Gaia, naked - covered in cysts; inside each cyst -

Human Hubris and Debris. The Intergalactic Conferencees from Far, Far Away took notes, dispassionately.

The Earth Alliance for the Dignity of All Creatures had sent a Selection of Elders to to Ćhoice and the Utilisation of Choice´ - a Cheshire Cat, a Sardine, a Flamingo, an Amethyst, as-well-as our-very-own ZaZaZa, from the banks of Lake Wet. The Electric Split Second Intergalactic Conference flashed with images of The Earth Seen through THEIR Eyes too - through night-eyes, and underwater-eyes, through eyes that fly, and through eyes that never move. The Conferencees were electromagnetised! It was terrific!

But amidst this Fireworks of Electromagnetic Intergalactic Telepathic Information; of perhaps most-significance to Jonny and Yoddyś exhaustive galactic research, were the Electromagnetic Telepathic Flashes of Sobli and her PR Research Teamś meeting with HanuHanu, the Elders of the Essex Giant Orange Monkey Tribe, and Whoever Else wanted to-be-there - the One with the Big Screen in the Amphitheatre - upon-which she´d projected high-resolution IRSREPś (infra-red, spectral, remagnetised photos), exposing the Dazzling and Cruel Extraterrestrial Giant Uuuurgasauri Peacock Butterflies - hidden inside the Skin Sacks of some of Humanityś Most Popular Entertainers. . Jonny and Yoddy glanced at Each Other collusively, as-if-to-say

"Synapses Synopses - Here we Come!"

And that was-it! Ćhoice and the Utilisation of Choice´ was over before it began! In an Earthly sub-second, All of the Above had been-seen, heard, felt, discussed and collated.

Jonny and Yoddy thanked the Conferencees, effusively; and they thanked them, similarly. For John and Yodrolmakclud the Conference had almost overheated the Fascinatometer that hung on the Cosmic Lab wall. They were euphoric! They 158

immediately set-to-work to prepare their paper for the Galactic Psycho-Scientific Symposium, which was just an eon-away.

Why couldn´t Humans choose - even though they had choice? Because the Tightness -

with the gracious, if not obsequious, cooperation of The Uuuurgasauri Butterflies, and its Leaders within the Human Psyche - was-now working the Human Race so hard, keeping it so wound-up, that it Had No Time to even-ask whether Choice Existed.

Human Existence had been reduced to production, and time-off; to all-day-every-day, high-speed, non-stop Doing - to Existence as a To-Do List, and ticking-off the years; to the insatiable pursuit of phantom goals - to a collective psychotic nightmare of an entire civilisation running-up Escalators that were forever going-down.

And with the arrival of The Uuuurgasauri Butterflies on Earth, the Tightening of the Tightness upon the Human Race was accelerating. Via the Official Educational and Informational channels of its Terrestrial Attendants, the Tightness was shrinking the Human Imagination. And into this Shrunken Collective Human Imagination it was dumping quantities of trash and trivia, rivalled only by the quantities of landfill the Humans were dumping into the earth.

Effectively, The Tightness had securely disabled the Synaptic Linking that allowed a Human to see for itself, to smell for itself; to Be its Uniqueness - to live-and-die-in the unmediated direct Wonder of its Own Experience.. Yes, but. . "Take a look at this"

whispered Yodrolmakclud, conspiratorially, signalling to John to come-over to the Cosmic Microscope. He´d been studying the HanuHanu ´Pulsations´. "Look here!"

Yodrolmakclud enthused, "just look at this!" There in the Cosmic Microscope, as clear as a clear day, one could see the HanuHanu Pulsations passing through the Brains of Human Under-Threes - coating their Synapses in a fine drizzle of Neuro Lacquer - a Vibrational Spray that held all Four Synaptic Spheres in place. "And thatś nothing!

Now Watch! Now watch!" screamed Yoddy, gripping one of Johnś many wrists. . And again, clear as a clear day, there in the lens of the Cosmic Microscope, was an Uuuurgasaurus Butterfly attempting, with no luck at all, to hypnotise a Pulsated, Neuro-Lacquered Human Under-Three! The Infant was impenetrable to them - as unperturbed as a Buddha, as peaceful as a plant. "O. M. G.!" said John, "thereś Hope for the Humans!"

The Combined Collective Consciousnesses of the Milky Way and Andromedan Galaxies brainstormed the title of their Symposium Paper, just as they had the title of the Conference they had convened ´to talk about the crazy humans´. "Planet Earth: Human Synapses, Extinction and Choice" suggested John (the Collective Consciousness of the billion-starred Andromedan Galaxy), breathlessly. "How about

´The Uuuurgasauri Butterflies, the Grip of the Tightness, HanuHanu, and the Epic Battle for the Survival of the Human Species" suggested Yodrolmakclud (the Collective 159

Consciousness of the billion-starred Milky Way Galaxy), unconvinced. But they were in the Zone together now, bouncing ideas off Each Other like tennis balls. Innumerable possible Symposium Paper Titles flew-about between them. . "Something more hopeful, perhaps?" wondered John, "how about: The Uuuurgasauri Butterflies, the Tightness, HanuHanu, the Earth and the Reactivation of Choice in Human Beings? Or maybe just "The Reactivation of Choice in Human Beings - Is It Possible?" "I´ve got it"

exclaimed Yodrolmakclud, as if hit hard on the head by the Muse "Humanity: Fucked Or Not?" "Brilliant!" acknowledged John.

And so it-was, exactly an eon later, that John and Yodrolmakclud presented their paper, ´Humanity: Fucked Or Not?´, before the assembled physical and subtle-energy participants of the Galactic Psycho-Scientific Symposium: Synapses Synopses. It was, to quote the Symposium Chair, the Archangel Terrance, "a superbly researched study of the crux of our enquiry". The Collective Consciousnesses of the Milky Way and Andromedan Galaxies did the Galactic Collective Consciousness Equivalent of ´high fives´ - sending rivulets of happy-energy singing through their respective Galaxies.

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34

The Buddha Toddlers

I

eanwhile, back on Earth: the Arctic Giant Orange Monkey Tribe published Mm ore photos of the rain of black tyre rubber Upon the Arctic Snow; and of the Epic Deluge due to the massacre of the Ancient Giant Glacier Nation.

Top Secret Human Tightness Think Tanks made regrettable National Security recommendations, as-to how-to contain the coming mass-migrations. "The survival of the few, is preferable to the survival of none" they wrote, with impeccable logic, in the introduction to their report ´How to Keep Out Billions of Starving Climate Refugees.´

The Humans had Toxified the Earth. Now the Toxic Earth, like anyone with a Fever, was fitful: here, flooding ominously with dark-waters; there, sandswept and bare; there, buffeted by unusual storms..

And against this background of Elemental Chaos, the Human Species was itself in Intra-species Chaos. On all continents, and in all cultures; eruptions of spontaneous, uncoordinated civil disobedience, fired with revolutionary fervour, were being-met, not only with the usual Tightness Media ridicule, but also by equally-fervent Tightness Riot Squads, Dressed as Insects.

That said, as-if-hypnotised by Images of The Good Times, most of the Populace of the Tightness continued to sip stylishly on their chic coffees and teas - brewed (as they all knew, deep down), with not-so-chic, chlorine-infected water. But all-around this sipping; all around these chic oases where the Tightness Populace would sit and chatter; imitate the behaviour they´d seen in films; and convince each other of what they´d been-convinced - Civil Unrest, if not Revolution, was spilling-over - all over the place.

Five big, old wars had ended due to High Ranking Military Officers ´donning T-Shirtsálong the-lines-of: "I am of (Army Black). I am a mother, daughter, cousin, niece, lover, friend and much more, to many. And I love All the People in My Life (in my best moments), just as someone of (Army White), in their best moments, Loves All the People in Their Lives". Seeing such obvious yet disarming clarity, inscribed upon the T-Shirts, upon the Breasts and Chests, of their Respected High Ranking Officers -

entire armies had followed their example. That said - most Human Armed Forces on 161

Planet Earth had, since then, introduced legislation legalising the Shooting on the Spot of Military Personnel caught ´Donning the T-Shirt´.

Cities had been Dug-Up by the bulldozers and drills of the LARF (Local Action for Return to the Family) Network, the Diggers Not Dreamers Network, the Let Fruits and Nuts Dangle from the Lampposts Network, and countless other quickly-constituted Community Clubs and Associations. And this Reborn Soil had been landscaped and planted and watered by countless other Community Groups. But (as they say) óne step forwards, one step back´ - for every Dig-Up that got-away with-it, there was another that some Responsible Citizen of the Tightness spied, and phoned to report to The Enforcement Officers of the Tightness - and that quickly became a Horror Circus of wailing Police Sirens; screeching Cats and Children; Tasers, Rubber Bullets, Arrests; Flocks of Pigeons shrieking; and disbelieving Eyes Sobbing, full of Tear Gas.

When the Dig-Ups were too-many for the Police, the Army backed-them-up. So many Lovers of the Earth were arrested, that soon the Prisons had no rooms available.

Cinemas, Football Stadiums and Shopping Malls were sequestered as Detention Centres. But these indefatigable idealists just carried-on digging - ripping-up the Cinema and Shopping Mall floors, like termites. The Football Stadiums were, of course, a breeze to plant.

Various Countries had held Referendums, and Proclaimed themselves either Pro-or-Anti HanuHanu. The Military Leadership of the Tightness - including the embittered and embarrassed General Whazam Kapow Splat, and the General of Staff, Admiral of the Fleet, and Minister of Existence Himself - had announced they would soon be Ńuking the Monkeys who were Destroying Human Civilisation´. And, as I have mentioned, there was nothing they found-more-fun than announcing things - so this was announced over-and-over again. .

And while Billions of Humans had opened their hearts to the Chicken Nation, and found comfort in their roosting in their cupboards - there was a worldwide coalition: the Oven Chicken Vigilantes - who roamed the street with machetes, lopping the heads off stray chickens, and roasting them - once they stopped running-about.

For many Humans the Trojan Banana Spa Resorts had become Places of Pilgrimage -

open-air Cathedrals: the Merpeople and Elves and Creatures of that Locality, their bishops and gurus and shamans; Mermo-Elfin Ecstatic Shock Therapy, a Holy Rite that returned-one, most pleasurably, home to the elements and the heart. But now - there were Demonstrations outside their Sacred Gates! Placards denounced the Trojan Banana Spas as Covens of Profanity, Unnaturalness, Madness and Devilry!

162

Even the Human Creature Pride Day Processions, which had become as-popular-as the Gay Pride Day Processions; and been attended and cheered-along by the Insect, Animal and Birds Nations, as well as by the Tree Communities they passed on-the-way; were being converted into battlefields by Anti-HanuHanu Streetfighters, clad in the usual, mocking Anti-HanuHanu Merchandise - chanting slogans like "Keep Earth Human! Keep Earth Human!"

And long-after the Processions were done; and Most Processors snug in bed - hardcore Pro-and-Anti HanuHanu Streetfighters battled-on, in Streets without Shoppers, long-into the early hours - in costumes ever-more armoured, their plastic merchandise ever-more metal.

II

The Pro-HanuHanu, Pro-Family of All Creatures Humans, had questions about peaceful protest; about how much violence one should turn-the-other-cheek-to -

before it became a False Saintliness; a holier-than-thou posture, that was, in itself, a psychological violence. Questions of-all-sorts arrived in the letterbox outside the Estate Gates, or in the HanuHanu Tribe Inbox - questions about Staying in oneś Unique Experience - about why it was so difficult, and whether HanuHanu had any tips.. And did HanuHanu recommend Meditation? And should one be Vegetarian, or Vegan, or Eat Raw, or Kill with Honour, or follow oneś Conditioned Appetites? Was Community Important? What was Community? Is it true we need Each Other? Were Elders Important? What about if a Human was old, but shrivelled and rancorous? Do Human Beings really need to give up Hairdryers, Toasters, Microwave Ovens and Dishwashers? And what, if so, to do with them?

Down in the Estate Amphitheatre, HanuHanu received delegations from the Extinction Rebellion civil disobedience Network, the Global Ecovillage Network, the Father Earth Foundation1, and many more. In audience after audience, he affirmed-them-all in the Beauty of their Endeavours, and in the Beauty they Are.

HanuHanu was particularly encouraging of The Breakfast Party, who were often seen at Dig-Up Arrest Fests, and even at early-morning Pro-and-Anti HanuHanu Streetfights - making a point of handing out coffee and noodles to BOTH sides; while chanting "All You Need Is Breakfast! All You Need Is Breakfast!" (as per the Beatlesśong All You Need Is Love), and sung limericks like:

"Thereś a tummy-tum-tum in everyone,

no matter whatś inside their head.

Let your ideas go hungry,

163

feed your tummy-tum-tum instead.

Breakfast! Breakfast! Breakfast!"

III

One Autumn Eve, Professor Koshofu; Gooj and RiyCratu, the Eldest of the Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys; HanuHanu; Sobli and Prrram, her right-hand Oak; the Poetess Besheesha, my Mother (and myself, of course, as always - there to Tell the Story of how it came-to-pass); were sitting-around chatting about Sobliś Teamś discovery that the recently-emitted Pulsations from HanuHanuś Body seemed to be stemming Synaptic Distortion in Human Infants, when - as if by Galactic Synchronicity -

Gloriana came galloping towards-us, tossing her mane excitedly, clenching a printout of an email from John and Yodrolmakclud between her front teeth.

It was an email in which they communicated their Cosmic Laboratory Observation regarding the interactions between the HanuHanu Pulsations, the Hypnotic Powers of the Poisoned-Antennaed Uuuurgasauri Butterflies - and Human Infants under-three: in essence, that the Pulsated Infants seemed Unhypnotisable.

That Jonny and Yoddyś email should arrive just then, just-as The Tribe was Accustoming its Mind to this very Idea, felt like Galactic Confirmation of Sobliś teamś hard work and conclusions. Sobliś Estate PR Team, which now included a Horse (Gloriana), a Badger (Einstein) and an Oak (Prrram); had already found-out that, fortunately or unfortunately, the Pulsations of Loving-Belonging emitted via HanuHanuś Body were, above-all, and most-strikingly - nurturing Brain Formation in Human Children three-years-old and younger. The Pulsations were sealing-off an Optimum Neurological Climate for the healthy interwoven growth of these InfantsŚynaptic Pathways - promising, perhaps, an unprecedentedly-present Generation, or Generations, of Human Beings..

Sobliś Team had found-this-out for-themselves using their own, imaginative and intricate Research Style. Assuming that the Pulsations of Loving Belonging would, at the very-least, have a physical impact; they had been hacking-into the databases of Hospitals and DoctorsŚurgeries throughout the Human World. And it was here that they had stumbled upon threads such as a sudden, global downtrend in the prescription of Childrenś Cough Syrups; and Sleeping Pills for Parents; and hundreds of thousands of related DoctorsŃotes - ´patient reports decrease in infanticidal fantasies´, ´patient no longer feels need for Couples Therapy´, and so on.

Not only this, but Human Under-Threes - from the podgy and indulged, to the boney and hungry - were now offering their parents advice on Stress, on Diffusing Mental Compression, and on Distorted Self Imaging; they would gurgle with contentment at 164

Moments of Tension - in a way that seemed to invite self-reflection; they would give short, grammatically-odd discourses on Silence and Identity while their nappies were being changed - and as they sat burping after breast-feeding, the Radiance of their Pure Love would bond Everyone around-them. Sobli had already, affectionately, nicknamed them ´The Buddha Toddlers´.

IV

The days and nights opened and closed, like flowers. Rain tap-danced on the amber and ochre leaves on the forest paths. The Estate rivers swoll with Joy. The Estate hosted the Alliance for the Dignity of All Creaturesánnual Charity Fundraiser Ball.

Tunundum and her two Elvin Assistants, Twaar and Tishtish, farmed the farmed forest; while the unfarmed forest farmed itself. The Estate Hosted the Rodent Olympics. Jinjostaś baby, Lisht, sprung a Third Eye when it was five weeks old. Perhaps the Apocalypse was around-the-corner, but Estate life-and-death rolled on. .

HanuHanu had not been shocked by Sobliś Teamś Slide Show of the Dazzling and Cruel Uuuurgasauri Butterfly Celebrities. He had already known of the Uuuurgasauri presence on Earth. For him, their repulsive arrival had been inevitable. He´d known that once the Vibration of the Tightness in the Collective Human Psyche reached a certain peak (which it had), it would be like a magnet for the Uuuurgasauri (which it had been).

But they had ShunShunShoola. So that, unless the Uuuurgasauri Peacock Butterflies´

Hypnotic Intent was benevolent (which, obviously, it wouldn´t-be) - it too would be bounced-back, and returned-to-sender, like any more-physical attack - with equal-and-opposite force2.

What HAD surprised him though, was that the Pulsations that had almost-bounced out-of-him at the end of his last United Nations Lecture, ´The Bliss of Belonging´; were, apparently - according not only to Sobli, Gloriana, Einstein and Prrram, but also to John and Yodrolmakclud of the Cosmic Laboratory - a vibratory medium for a neuro-lacquer that protected and nurtured an Abundant Synaptic Climate in the Brains of Human Infants.

Had he done this? No. Had it happened through-him? Apparently. The evidence was there. These Infants, these Buddha Toddlers - were Strong in all four Synaptic Spheres

- bringing soothing to their families. .

HanuHanu remained contemplative. He strolled along the Forest Paths, where he´d be joined - now by a Rabbit, now by a Blackbird; now by a Fox, now by a worm. How he loved! And how he was loved! For him, Everything was Magical - even the Appalling.

165

The dew clad branches glistening in the soft sunlight. The ants emptying the contents of a dead pigeonś skull. Magic lit all. .

One night HanuHanu had a serious, silent, all-night-chat with Gooj, and the Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys; about Mass Creative Hypnosis Protocol, and the Mi-O-Mi-No Prophecy - and they Agreed not to Implement the Protocol without first convening a Gathering of the Five Giant Orange Monkey Tribes of the Earth.

On another night, he flew to Another Realm; where he rested in the arms of Srí Srí Ayli The Ordinary, his Giant Orange Monkey Mother - who had died, even before HanuHanu had set sail for Europe. There was no Time there, but HanuHanu was there a good while - weeping in her soft, strong arms, for the Conflict to Come. Srí Srí Ayli the Ordinary, the Unpretentious; held her Divine Hybrid Son in her Other Realmy arms - infusing-him with Abundant Love.

On many-nights, HanuHanu communed with Hanuman, his Father. "The Same Energy that moves You and Me, moves the Uuuurgasauri Butterflies. One Energy Moves All"

Hanuman had remarked - the Vastness of his Vision, igniting HanuHanuś Own Vast Vision. .

And so HanuHanu strolled - in the Magic Beyond Explanations - surrendered to his role in the Great Mi-O-Mi-No Prophecy.. Although, to "save Humanity from Itself, and The Rest of Us from Humanity" by giving-it his "best shot", was, he often reflected, an odd choice of metaphor for such a mission of regeneration and rebirth. Nevertheless, he was committed. The entirety of his Creative Energy was set on Playing his Part -

even if, at that moment, the Earth was not at-peace, and the Tightnessś plan for World War in the Human World, as explained to the Tribe by the Beaver Brothers, seemed to be coming to fruition. A Possibility which, not only the Beavers felt, but which We All felt "Boded Bad for Us All"...

HanuHanuś contemplations would return to the Under-Threes Effect of the Loving-Belonging Pulsations that had passed-through him. From where had they come? He did not know. He remembered the Experience of the Pulsations radiating-out from him. It was as-if he was being Inflated, then sucked-back-in, then Inflated again. He had chosen to surrender. It had felt like the Whole Universe was Orgasming through-him.

And the Pulsations Themselves: it had felt like they had a Will of their Own; as if they knew where they were going. .

Had they facilitated only-temporary, full-four-sphere Synaptic Fusion within the little heads of these little Little Cousins? Or had the childrenś natural-state of Inclination Towards Full Synaptic Fusion (I.T.F.S.F.), been permanently protected? Had the Pulsations somehow safeguarded these Young Humans from the Synaptic Withering 166

by Neglect (S.W.B.N.) of large chunks of their brains, due to those chunks being deemed socially unacceptable or irrelevant?

These Human Children would be reproductively mature in less than two decades, and similarly, their children. This meant that within four, five or six decades (in less than half a century) - if, that was, these Human Infantsśtate-of-wellbeing was stable -

potentially: the majority of Human Beings on Earth could be Four-Sphere Synaptically Linked Grown-Up Buddhas - Human Beings who would, naturally, not squabble; who would, naturally, share food; who would, in fact, naturally, share everything; and who would - without the need for a Centralised Philosophy, or Religion, or Government -

naturally, care for each other. . and live-and-die In Wonder.

V

But as-yet: not even HanuHanu appreciated just how Synaptically Whole the Buddha Toddlers were! Their Neuro Circuits were so sparklingly-dynamic that these Mystically Protected Little Ones functioned effortlessly - both as individuals, and as One Racial Being. That is to say - they moved smoothly through the scenes presented by their individual family-lives and community-lives, but-also-as a Collective Buddha Toddler Consciousness - as One. Which is what enabled them to coordinate the sublime intervention that became known as ´Halt!Át a precise hour, on a precise day - regardless of what any clock said, and regardless of whatever calender one believed-in - The Collective Buddha Human Toddler Consciousness of the Earth walked-and-crawled out of the front doors of its family homes and, with the grace of an opening flower, Flowed into Circles that turned-around the Human Cities of the World. Where there were bypasses and ring roads the circuit was much easier, but Whichever City the Collective Human Buddha Toddler Consciousness of the Earth encircled - walking-and-crawling ever-so slowly, and admittedly, in many cases, with a slight wobble: that Human City came to a Halt.

These city-circling streams of Buddha Toddlers left Human adults, adolescents and children alike - aghast and amazed: halted, and vaguely Ashamed of the Species they had Become - vaguely admitting-to-themselves that the Tightness in Themselves had Seduced them into the Service of the Tightness At Large - into becoming Operatives of the Tightness´ Mass Manufactured Lifestyle... A Lifestyle they would never have selected-for-themselves from Existenceś vast Pallet of Possibilities; a Lifestyle that deemed their deepest Intuitions and Callings and Soul Yearnings irrelevant; and that, on-top of-it-all, was Consuming the Earth like a Plague. The Little Ones said nothing.

They walked-and-crawled in single file - some more steadily, some less; some in nappies, some not; few of them still breastfeeding, most of them teething. . They looked straight ahead..

167

Suddenly there was nothing on any Television Screen, or any screen, other than these slowly circling Rivers of Silent Toddlers. The N.A.S.A. Satellite Images were stunning

- whether walking-and-crawling in the Northern Hemisphere, or in the South; under the moon, or under the sun; these Circling Little Humans were One Global Dance: a Spinning Sufi World Flower of Innocence and Love - silently whispering, not pushing or preaching, its Message beyond Words.

The World Flower of the Collective Human Buddha Toddler Consciousness of the Earth halted World War - without speaking a word. Soldiers and Policepeople, Guerilla Gardeners and T-Shirt Revolutionaries, Pro-and-Anti HanuHanu Streetfighters, even the Oven Chicken Vigilantes: the Whole Human Family Stopped its Doing, and watched and listened. The Message was loud-and-clear, yet indefinable. It made every Adult Human question everything. Doubt flooded the Collective Adult Human Mind, like a wave of humility. Public Transport stopped. The cars all stopped. Within five hours all Industry had stopped. By the Grace of the Buddha Toddlers, the Human Family took a break.

Notes:

1. The provocatively-named Father Earth Foundation is an association dedicated to the Deconceptualisation of the Earth as Feminine, and as therefore more Of Woman, than Of Man, or Of Anyone Else. They seek to ´derail the reactive, sexist Mother Earth narrative´, which is, for them (I quote again): ás pernicious a concept as God the Father´.

In a famously-romantic TV Dialogue between John Tree, the Founding Father of the Father Earth Foundation, and Isis Sapphire Westwind, High Priestess of the Daughters of Mother Earth; Isis said "you have to understand, John, that everyone has an inner-feminine". John just looked at her. She looked-back at him. The cameras went back-and-forth between their lookings. Then John said "come on, Isis - drop the Coven Party Line, just for once." Isis, who was also a Balinese Masseuse and Astro-Energetic Psychotherapist, could see John had no unresolved Mother Issues. She could feel he was not a debunker, nor competing, but Calling her into Intimacy - and she was touched. As the cameras continued to go back-and-forth, you could See It in her Eyes - which touched John, which could also be seen, in-his-eyes - as the cameras went back-and-forth. They rose. They embraced. They kissed. The Studio Audience went "aaaaaaah!" - and they´ve been kissing ever-since.

168

2. HanuHanu felt the protection offered by ShunShunShoolaś Energy Field. But he was also aware that it was Not Invulnerable. While it was Impenetrable by Malevolence - ShunShunShoola was, perhaps-unfortunately, Penetrable by Misguided Innocence.

For example: if there was A Creature - a Human Being, say - foolish-enough to believe wholeheartedly and unquestioningly in the Absolute Goodness of the Tightness; who felt that to fight to defend the Tightness was their Dignified Duty - in fact, that to Lay Down their Life-into-Death as a Sacrifice to the Tightness, was the most beautiful and noble act of which they, or any Creature, could-ever-be Capable -

then Such a Creatureś Bullets, Swords, Missiles, Warhammers and Warscythes would all fly-straight-through the ShunShunShoola Membrane - because they´d be Aimed with No Ill Intent.

HanuHanu doubted the Military Leadership of the Tightness was aware of this - otherwise they would have Hired such a Simpleton to Press the Magic Button on the missile-launchers that carried the ShunShunShoola DNA-Dodging Bullets. But HE was aware.

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35

The Alan Watts Zen Squirrel

I

e, The Family of All Creatures, were moved by the Beauty of the Buddha WToddle

rs; and yet we sadly-knew they´d soon be-gone-home, to their families -

and that this Halt to Hostilities was but-a-temporary truce, in an as-yet-unopenly declared Human World War.

By contrast, life and death, here on the Essex Estate, day by night by day by night, passed with ease and joy - lit by delightful incidents. . Like when - one ordinary, miraculous day - a day of sunshine and sprouting and breeding and dying: an extremely-cheeky young Grey Squirrel rang the bell on the front gate of the Estate -

claiming to be possessed by the Ghost of Alan Watts!

When he´d been Alive as Alan Watts, Alan had been a great friend of HanuHanu - so this astonishing claim was relayed to HanuHanu, who was intrigued to meet the young Grey Squirrel, and asked he be invited-in.

An equally-cheeky young Giant Orange Monkey was sent to escort the Alan Watts Squirrel from the Gate to Lake Wet, where HanuHanu often liked to receive his guests.

The Giant Orange Monkey Boy ferried him, perched on his palm, like a King on a Palanquin, or a child on a swing, from Gate to Lake - teasing him all the way.. "So why reincarnate as a Squirrel? Why not as a Dragon, or a Star - or as a Giant Orange Monkey?" the Monkey Boy taunted, "mind you, you do look sweet!" "Do you think so?"

Alan the Zen Squirrel sniggered, "look at this tail - gorgeous, isn´t it?!"

"Wow, that was quite a ride!" laughed the Possessed Squirrel, as he hopped-off of the impertinent and entertaining young Giant Orange Monkeyś hand, onto the wet grass around Lake Wet. The Enormous HanuHanu looked intensely at the Tiny Squirrel. "Is that you, Alan?" he exclaimed - hoping it was. "Well yes and no, dear HanuHanu. . By the time Alan died he wasn´t exactly Alan in The Usual Way anymore. Alan didn´t Experience Himself as Alan anymore. He didn´t Experience Himself as his body, or even as his personality. In fact, he didn´t Experience Himself as anything at all".

Then, Taken by Love, the Squirrel Possessed by Nothing at All shouted "Oh, HanuHanu - itś SO good to see you again!" - and bounced-up HanuHanuś Great Giant Orange Monkey body - knee to thigh to arm to shoulder, just as he´d have scaled a tree.

170

Once there, on his Old Friendś shoulder, he snuggled-up affectionately against his Giant Orange Neck - while HanuHanu put down his Giant Love Lotus of Unbearable Beauty for-a-minute, and stroked his Old Friendś new, little, furry Alan-not-Alan squirrel body, fondly, with his Upper Left Hand.

II

HanuHanu communed with the Reincarnated Alan Watts Zen Squirrel, just as he had communed with Hanuman Himself, in the mists at the centre of Lake Wet - except that they were Sitting in the Sunshine, at the Lakeside. They rested as One. And in that rest, All Information was exchanged. It was a summery-day; the waters sparkled, the Meradults swam with the Merchildren; the Elves (who can fly faster than the speed of light!), played hopscotch on the sunlight. One Elf in particular, a bright spark named Ekhart, was overjoyed by HanuHanu and the Alan Watts Squirrelś communion - and danced-himself right into communion with-them. "Now! Now! Now!" he yelped jubilantly, as he hopscotched about-them.

If energy could be spoken, their conversation would have sounded something like this:

"HanuHanu, I feel humbled by your presence." "The feeling is mutual, dear What Used To Be Alan!" "HanuHanu, I really like to drum, and I bet with those four arms you could knock out some really mean beats!" "I LOVE to drum!"

Great non-material Kettledrums, Congas and Tiny Bongos materialised in the summery air around them. HanuHanu and Alan drummed-as-one. Their drumming was their conversation. And if drumbeats were words, their conversation would have sounded, something-like-this:

HanuHanu: "Take Courage, Little Cousins - Be Brave! This is Your Time!"

Alan the Zen Squirrel: "Take Courage, Big Cousins - Be Brave! Decide to Die Proud, of Who You´ve Been - and Become!"

HanuHanu: "Take Courage, Little Cousins - Be Brave! Risk Everything, Inside your Own Hearts!"

Alan the Zen Squirrel: "Take Courage, Big Cousins - Be Brave! Stand Proud As the Beauty you ARE!"

For the Tight Grip of the Tightness to loosen - it was thunderously obvious to them both: more-and-more Humans needed to Renounce their Dependence. They needed to remember their Existences were their Own - or the Property of Life and Death, perhaps

- but certainly not the Property of the Tightness. Human Beings needed to Take their lives-and-deaths Back - en masse; and act Responsibly, regardless of the Irresponsibility of their Leaders.

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When the Alan Watts Zen Squirrel had Been Human, he´d been an Enlightened Zen Archer, Drinker and Calligrapher; and because HanuHanu was well-known as a Multidimensional Creaturian Communitarian - their opinions had-been very similar.

And not much had-changed. Even though Alan was That, no-longer - their opinions remained very similar. .

"They have to remember themselves; to shout "enough!" at themselves - and to Stop Following!" said one-of-them. "They have to remember that Everyone is their Own Authority - that there is no intermediary between Them and the Rain, and the Wind, and the Land!" said the other. "They have to return to the Bosom of Father Earth!" they both said1. "They have to remember that they are Not defined by their Names; that they are Not their Passports" they both said, "that they are Undefinable - and, therefore, Free!"

Neither HanuHanu nor the Alan Watts Zen Squirrel judged Humanityś love of the Cradle of Conformity; nor Humanityś panic-stricken need of ever-tighter Laws; nor Humanityś ingenuous respect for its two-tongued Clinically Psychotic Leadership (which seemed, to both of them, akin to the Abuseeś adulation of the Abuser) - but, now, in their One Opinion - there was a Massive Species Need to question this Addiction to Uncritical Dependence.

Could the Humans do it? Could they? Perhaps - yes! Who could say they-couldn´t?!

Both HanuHanu and Alan could visualise it: a mass-remembrance of freedom! Every Human of the Human Species (or, perhaps, at-least to-start-with: a hopefully-highly-contagious One Hundred Specimens of the Species) - Standing Proud in their Uniqueness! Unique and One With All! No Creature above them, No Creature below!

Everyone of Them - an indefinable Mystery Unto Themselves; a Worshipper of the Mystery of Everything - fed-up with their own lack-of-logic, and cowardice - Let Go into the Bliss of Belonging! How viscerally they could sense it! Dignity and Humility becoming-one in their One Hundred Human Species Specimens´ Hearts - and thus, to their mutual amazement, all coming-to-see each otherś Core of Love.

Encouragement and Empowerment radiated-out from HanuHanu and the Once Alan Watts Zen Squirrelś communion, towards the hearts of All Those Who Were Remembering. And indeed, these Rememberers found themselves oddly-confident, that day. The Great Giant Orange Monkey and the Tiny Furry Squirrel had only praise for these Rememberers - and especially, and above-all, for their Struggle to Align their everyday-and-night living-and-dying with their Remembering.

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III

"Hi Everyone! Shanti, Shanti!" intoned the Zen Squirrel theatrically, ceremoniously -

on his hind legs now, on HanuHanuś shoulder - as-if he was a Prophet or Politician, addressing the Whole of Humanity, there-and-then:

"Peace be With You! Which means: you can Chill Out! Are you struggling to Align your Lifestyle with your Wisdom - your daily habits, with the revelations of your remembering? Have you been Living the Mass Manufactured Lifestyle, and do you now want to settle-back into the Family of All Creatures? And does it feel impossible? Well, I´ve news for you, My Friends. .

Know this: that, today, as-things-stand, youŕe basically right: it IS all-but-impossible to Totally Align. Itś a self-deception to claim to live-a-life Free of the Mass Manufactured - to pose as not-subsidising the Turning of the Tightness. From your computers, phones, cars and bank cards; to your clothes, your windows and doors; your garden spades, and your knives-and-forks - Everything you Use is Mass Manufactured..

If youŕe at-home-now, or at work, or out-about-town: look about-you: isn´t Everything you Use, Mass Manufactured? Have a look. . If you took-away Everything that was Mass Manufactured - every bedsheet, every mug, every sock; every paving stone, every lamp post, every building you depend-upon; every socket and plug, and switch and key - and Everything they Operate. . If you took-away even your Mass Manufactured Food. . If you removed It ALL from-sight - what would remain to-be-seen? Not much - eh?!

Which means this: that as you drive and spend and wear and dig and eat - however unwilling your Feeling - in your Doing: you are feeding the Mass Manufacture Monster!

Like-it-or-not: You Yourselves are the Living Fuel that powers the Mass Manufactured Lifestyle! It stays-alive through you! Thatś sobering? Isn´t it? Whoever you might Think you Are; however Radical or Revolutionary your Self Image: very, very Few of You are not powering the Mass Manufactured Lifestyle.

So Itś Tough to Align, right-now, as-things-stand.. Very-nearly All of You are deep-inside the Mass Manufactured Lifestyle. And the Mass Manufactured Lifestyle is: Not In Alignment with the Family of All Creatures, nor with the Family of Existence, nor with the Family of Anything. In fact, It is Not In Alignment with the concept-or-feeling of Family Itself. And so, My Friends..

Firstly: let us recognise that you WILL continue - this morning, this afternoon, this evening - to subsidise and energise the Monstrous Mass Manufactured Lifestyle.

Because - as-things-stand: it is all-but-inescapable! And therefore - Don´t be Harsh with Yourselves!

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However, also; yes, My Friends - you know you´ve Got to Give it All Up! Don´t you?!You´ve got to Give Everything Back to Father Christmas!!! Beneath the red-hood, and jolly belly, and wise white beard - there is A Crazed All-Devouring Monster!!! And you´ve seen-it! Haven´t you?!

So, yes - ALL Of It must go! Yes - tell the Monster Father Christmas "thanks, but no!"

- and quick: Get Out of Santaś Cosy Grotto! The Storeś On Fire! It doesn´t matter if you Think youŕe Christian or Zarathustrian; Democratic, Darwinian or a Mystical Child of the Stars.. you Have To Stop your Mass Poisoning, Mass Devouring, Mass Bloodsucking the Life out of Life. . You Have To! Well. . You don´t, ´have to´- but if-you-don´t: the Jolly Monster you Serve will Devour You!

And so Here Comes the Crunch, My Once Human Siblings: Something has-to Go, and Something has-to Arrive. Call-this this the transition from Factory to Forest; or from Fighting to Family; or an evolutionary phase-shift; or a collective-psychological breakthrough, out-of Human Adolescence. . Call it what we want, but HEAR ME

NOW, My Friends:"

Unable to sit-still on HanuHanuś shoulder any-longer - where, admittedly, he´d already-been up-on his back-paws, gesticulating with his front-paws with increasing-fervour, for the-last-five-minutes - Alan-not-Alan now squirrelled up-onto the Top of HanuHanuś Head, where he struck a Messianic Pose, tiny front-paws Extended to the Heavens, and proclaimed:

"This is the Situation: a Transition is Called For. This we have Agreed. Fine. AND: How You negotiate-this-transiton in Your Own Individual Lives, will-be How you negotiate-this-transition Collectively, As a Species. LET ME REPEAT THAT!"

And indeed, it did-seem the Alan Watts Zen Squirrel was about-to repeat that "how you negotiate-this-transiton in Your Own Individual Lives, will-be How you negotiate-this-transition Collectively, As a Species", but HanuHanu deliberately wobbled-his-head from side-to-side, in The Indian Style - and Alan almost-fell. "Alan - come back!"

HanuHanu jibed, affectionately.

"Oh, I´m sorry" said Alan, regaining his balance with squirrel-like agility, "I always wanted to-be A Messiah, but I´ve had to settle for Being a Bodhisattva! And sometimes that unmet-ego-need, still with-me, limping from life-to-life, gets the Better of Me!"

Then he said "but, HanuHanu, I Am Right, aren´t I?"

As HanuHanu looked-up, going slightly boss-eyed; and Alan leant-forwards, as only-squirrels-can, almost-horizontally - their Eyes Met. "You? Right? Ever?" teased 174

HanuHanuś Eyes. And then, as they both shook with laughter, inevitably: Alan went-flying - alighting, eventually, after many-a-somersault, gracefully, on a branch, a hundred-metres-away.

Skittering-down the Trunk of that Tree; scuttering through the autumn lakeside leaves; and scampering-up onto HanuHanuś right knee - the Once Alan Watts Recovering-Messiah Cute Little Furry Zen Master Squirrel hopped-up onto the Tiny Mystic Bongos that hovered-still, in the summery autumn air, around-them - and there he tap-danced a beat that went (in words) something-like-this:

"Get-together and work-out new ways! Just be as fast as you can! And remember - there is no hurry! Get-together and work-out new ways! Just be as fast as you can! And remember - there is no hurry!" And so on. .

IV

The sun shone. The air was soft. Around the Estate, the Giant Orange Monkey Tribe was on its back, in the forest clearings, sunbathing - apart from some Mother Monkeys, who were squatting, rubbing their Little Ones´ fur with homemade Raspberry and Carrot suncream. HanuHanu and Alan would pause, drum, laugh, and dance with the Elves, and imbibe the messages of the Stars (who don´t only Transmit at Night).

As Alan smoked Nettle Tobacco in a Tiny Pipe he´d cobbled-together from an Acorn Cup and a Reed, they reflected on the pampered fragility of Homus Domesticus, and the modern-human addiction to comfort and pleasure. "Enslavement by Seduction"

HanuHanu called it. Could Human Beings toughen-up-enough - physically - and come to be in-relationship-with, rather than in-opposition-to, the Great Elementals?

To Let Go of the Pleasures of Mass Manufactured Life-and-Deathstyle (and to therefore no-longer subsidise-the-domination of the Tightness), would mean to toughen-up: by radical simplification; and by radical localisation. Even if they could work-out new ways - could the HumansĆurrent Bodies withstand living-and-dying With, and not Against, the Elementals?

As they talked about modern, city-tied Humansńarrow Temperature Tolerance Range (T.T.R.) - so quickly too-cold, too-hot - they felt grief. As they felt the generational withering of the Human Sense of Smell - they felt grief. They felt grief that the Whole Species did not come-out to smother-itself in the soothing, healing, full-moon moonlight. They felt grief at how, through the Pursuit of Comfort, the Human Musculature had gone-squidgy. They felt grief that Human Beings hated getting their clothes dirty. They felt grief Humans lived-and-died between Tall Buildings, and hardly saw the sky - and thus gradually lost perspective, and Forgot 175

Majesty. They felt grief about Streetlights - that so many Humans never saw Darkness.

They felt grief that the Noise Humans surrounded-themselves-with was grinding-down their Nervous Systems..

Feeling HanuHanu and Alanś grief, the Merpeople sang a Love Song for Humanity -

a song that passed through the waters, as wind passes through forests; a flute-like hush that whispered "we love you, be not so afraid; hide not, you are strong; come out, take your place; you are welcome - we love you, we love you, we love you".

HanuHanu and the Alan Watts Squirrel entered Silence together. There, where it mattered not that Alan had been a Human, and was now a Squirrel, and had never been a Giant Orange Monkey; there, where nor did it matter that HanuHanu was a Giant Orange Monkey with Four Arms, and had never been a Human nor a Squirrel; there, in that placeless place where everything is everything, HanuHanu and Alan communed. . And in the Vision Before Them, they saw, once-again, Human Remembrance. "Only I have Authority over my Existence" it said quietly, "and I Exist as freely and gloriously as All That Exists".

V

There, in the Simplicity of Stillness, their Vision spoke-to-them: it didn´t matter how many eco-adjustments the Humans might make to their Life-and-Deathstyles - if they could not, or would not, Stay in their Own Unique Experience, and thus directly, viscerally know their Own Authority and Belonging - their Eco Idealism would eventually become a Moral Stand; then an Irrefutable Philosophy; then a Political Manifesto - and finally return them to the Cusp of Disaster upon-which they found themselves today - if, that is, they were not already over-the-cusp.

If a Human Family that felt-itself to Belong to the Family of All Creatures was to emerge, then the Humans had to tune-into their Own Voices. . That was how they would hear the One Voice speaking through Them All - and perceive Each Other as other-versions of themselves. In fact, they had to Retune their Synapses, and tune-in to the One Voice shrieking and chattering and growling and squeaking through Us All!

Only then could the Revolutionary Letting Go into Absolute Equality, ever take-place.

It was not a question of Mindset Adjustment - of understanding the principle, and upgrading oneś Personality Presentation. It was not about agreeing-about there being One Voice singing through All Time, but about HEARING it - directly, uninterceptedly - as-it-echoed through oneś Own Unique Heart.

There was, as Alan the Zen Squirrel had tap-danced and drummed: an Unhurried Urgency for Human Beings to Turn their Attention away-from defending their disempowered Mass Manufactured Identities; and - in naked, honest, humble self-176

observation - Turn their Attention towards their Unique Individual Experience; and Face their Freedom.

Without this Great Turning in the Human Psyche - there would only-ever be Identity Wars: rebellions based, perhaps, upon the most Noble of Ideas; upon, perhaps, Eco Ideas; upon, perhaps, Ideas of Peace ń Ĺove; but, nevertheless, Upon Ideas: Ideas doomed, as All Ideas Are - to clash with their Ideological Opposites; their Intellectual Enemies. It didn´t matter how avant-garde, or radical, or right-on Humansídeas were: it was Allegiance to Ideas itself, that caused alienation and conflict.

Human Beings might even apply for Membership of the Alliance for the Dignity of All Creatures - as a Conceptually Coherent Act. But - without this Great Turning - the Family of All Creatures would not issue-them Membership Cards, because (however convincing their Speeches on the subject of Óne World, One Heart, One Love´; however Courageous their acts of Eco-Civil Disobedience; and however zealous their Defence of Equality and Justice), they would still smell-wrong, and stand-wrong, and smile-wrong, and have Shame in their Eyes; and, ultimately, still-be - a Danger to Us All.

Notes:

1. This was a reference to a conversation they-had-had, the previous evening; in-which HanuHanu had told the Alan Watts Zen Squirrel about the Father Earth Foundationś Peyote Ceremony; at-which the until-then-highly regarded Foundationś Secretary had spent an entire night wandering-afar, and Sucking at Tree Trunks - murmuring the unfortunate-phrase "The Bosom of Father Earth".

For these ambiguous mutterings the Foundation Secretary was almost Expelled from their Brotherhood. It might have been-pardonable, had a newcomer uttered such a nigh-on-blasphemous phrase - but for the Foundation Secretary Himself to have even-associated the terms

´fatheránd ´bosom´ was, well, unthinkable.

The Foundation Secretary pleaded on his knees. "I meant ćhest´! I meant chest!" he moaned.. The General Assembly of the Father Earth Foundation looked upon-him with genuine compassion and condescension. .

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"If Plato can be-forgiven for suggesting we all once-had eight limbs, and cartwheeled when-we-ran - can we not forgive our Honourable Secretary this one albeit-traitorous indiscretion?" asked the philosophical Foundation Chairman, supportively.

After weeks of intricate theological debate, the Foundation finally agreed: this Errant Brother would be-pardoned his peyote-addled Vision of Unity. . However, since-the-ceremony, the Foundation added, he had-been-seen in blatant heterosexual flirtation with several well-rounded Oaks - and that now had-to-stop! This was to-be his One Warning. Any more Hanky Panky with the Earth - and He Was Out!

How HanuHanu and the Alan Watts Zen Squirrel had enjoyed the tale of the Father Earth Foundation Secretaryś misnomer! The Oddness of Human Beings seemed to repeatedly re-amaze HanuHanu. But Alan, having been-one-himself, so recently - wasn´t amazed at-all.

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Part 3

Decision

36

A Momentous Moment

he moment I want to tell you about was a Momentous Moment, for three reasons: one - War in the Human World had been-agreed; two - The Earthś temperature T was rising and rising, and It was sweating hot and cold (as one does); and three: HanuHanu was due to offer his fifth and final United Nations Lecture the next day -

and even the shyest of Human Audience Estimates exceeded seventy-five percent of the Human Family.

Who had Agreed on War? And was not The War already-on? Yes, but - over that-last-week: the Poisonous Uuuurgasauri Butterflies had been relentlessly intoxicating the Military Leadership of the Tightness; and the Populace of the Tightness, to boot - with enticing-nay-irresitible images of Absolute Comfort and Control. . Images so seductive, so enrapturing, so entrancing - images with sofas so comfy, insurance policies so favourable to the insured; 5G so healing; and Artificial Intelligence so kind and forgiving - that En Masse they had found themselves Arming Themselves and Marching. They had no plan. They didn´t know where they were going. But the images impelled them. They felt, somehow, divinely called. There was Something they had to Defend..

As the Human Psyche In-the-Grip of the Tightness stocked-up on weapons galore, and counted its bullets, and put stickers on vials of viruses - it made frenzied Proclamations of its Ontological Convictions and Bold Intentions - on Facebook, Youtube, Instagram and The Official Tightness News - along-the-lines-of:

"To-us Victory has been Promised by Destiny; for-us Comfort and Control in a Mass Manufactured Heaven on Earth has been divinely-allocated; Ours it-is to Inherit the Earth - and do with it as-we-wish! For We are The Chosen Race! And The Monkeys and their Sub-Human Followers WILL NOT Stand in Our Way! They MUST be Eradicated!" As Julie Andrews might-have-sung: The World was Alive with the sound of Venom.

And, as the Uuuurgasauri had Known it-would, it worked: these Tight Human Beingséver-more-intensely venomous Taunting and Threatening finally-elicited a Unified Worldwide "No! Enough!" from The Side of the Human Psyche that is Not-So Gripped by the Tightness. "No!" it roared-back, "Enough! We Will Not let This Earth be downtrodden any longer! Nor the Family of All Species disrespected! No! We Refuse to live Afraid of Life - Fighting Life; Fighting Each Other. . We refuse to live Like That 180

anymore! We Stand Against You! We will Not Let You Win!" And So Sides were Set, and Oppositionism Won - as, perhaps, it had to. And War in the Human World had been-agreed. But who would Fire the Starting Gun?

It was at just-this Momentous Moment that a Viral Video posted by an Anonymous Poster of no specified affiliation, made An Astounding Proposal to the Human Race:

"this I propose:" it proposed, "that there-be: One Big Battle! A Magnificent Battle! A Transcendent Battle! Why have a scattering of skirmishes, and the-possibility-of no one knowing exactly whoś won? Why not stage one, big, spectacular SuperBattle -

somewhere. . somewhere SuperBig? Let us come face-to-face! Do We Dare? Let us Blaze with Courage! Let Each of Us be a Blazing Testament to the Truth we Bear - and have Sworn to Defend! Let us Meet Head On, like Stags in the Spring - and let The One, final, definitive Victory be witnessed by the world! Let there be Cameras; let there be Commentary; let there be Statistics - Live! Why squabble on street-corners? Why spit across the internet? That is so petty! Letś Think BIG! I Call to the Courage of the Human Race.. And to the Human Race, I propose: Ármageddon, The Finals´!"

Giant Orange Monkey Haters Ĺiked´ this Post in their billions, as did billions of Giant Orange Monkey Lovers - oblivious, once-again, to the Commonality of their Emotion, as Haters and Lovers Alike clicked Ĺike´ with the solemnity of Knights pledging fealty to their Ladies. Everyone seemed in-favour-of The Battle at the End of Time. So it seemed its Time had Come.

The Uuuurgasauri had no objection to this proposal, in fact they thought it might be Rather Fun. An enthusiasm shared by Raymond Bushka, the President of the I.O.C.

(the International Olympic Committee): "We shall Organise This! We shall Make it Happen" he announced proudly, almost-heroically, to the world. And both Monkey Lovers and Haters said: "Why not? Someone has to."

Nor did the Giant Orange Monkeys, nor the Other Creatures of the Earth, nor the Gids Themselves, sound an objection. They watched this unfolding with heads bowed in mourning for the Pain to Come. For it was not that the Humans were unwilling victims of Uuuurgasauri Malevolence. It was Human Tightness that had drawn the Uuuurgasauri to Earth. As the Human Family prepared to maim and mutilate Itself -

the Mercilessness of Boomerang, the God of Karma and Skateboarding, felt chillingly close. And yet, they couldn´t help but Look with Love.

The whereabouts of the Battlefield hadn´t been decided. Nor had the Date been finalised - but a Spokesperson for Raymond and the International Olympic Committee made a Public Statement of Reassurance: "we are in the final stages of the decision-making process, and are hoping to be able to Have That Battle by the weekend. The Battlefield will be Big - so don´t worry! A Big Battlefield for a Big Battle! Hoorah! So 181

don´t worry. . there will be Place for Everyone! Which means: there will be a Place for YOU! Just come as-you-are, or come as-you-wish - thereś no dress-code - nor are there Weapons Restrictions; so bring whatever you want! And be-on whichever side you want: All Entry Tickets are Equally Valid for whichever side youŕe on! So Come On Everyone - letś make this a One Off! We invite Absolutely Everyone to Take Their Place! Don´t forget this won´t be a Spectator Sport, like at the Olympics - this is going to be make-friends-quick and get-stuck-in-there Fun for All! So come-along, join-in, and have tons-of-fun - at Ármageddon, The Finals´! This isn´t a chance thatĺl come again!" At the end the Spokesperson started speaking faster than I could hear, but it was something-like: Dogs must be kept on leads at all Times, and Terms and Conditions applied. .

Would it be Nuclear? Would it be decided by Prime Ministers on White Steeds, flashing the extremely-heavy Swords of their Ancestors? Would it be Chemical? Or would it just be one massive punch-up, with maybe a kitchen knife, a broken bottle and a bottle-opener or two? Or perhaps it would be Biological? Since every-other Human was asking these questions, Betting Shops started offering odds: 8 to 1 against Nuclear, 10000 to 1 on the Prime Ministers, 1 to 1 on it being a draw. I´m not very good at numbers, but whatever the Winning Bet was to-be (as the Beaver Brothers would say): it Boded Bad, it Boded Bad for Us All.

The Blood Moon, the Full Moon of October, the Moon of the Hunt and Slaughter -

now Shone Shakily in the Empty Night. We, the Giant Orange Monkeys of the Essex Estate, who usually have Mega Full Moon Celebrations, and Dance all Night, and Let Go Together; decided, this time, to Just Sit Quietly Together.

Some of us kept our eyes open. The Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys, I believe, never close their eyes. But those Giant Orange Monkeys who closed their eyes, had their Hearts Broken with Love when they opened them again - and saw-and-felt: the Whole Estate Family had come to Sit Quietly with-us...

There they were, with-us: the Tree Community, leaves lowered; Bird Flocks perched silently in their branches; the Insect Commonwealth, still - as if switched-off; the emotional Fish (in the Jacuzzi) crying; the Squirrel Community (among whom Alan had become Something of a Star), sat-back on their hind legs, playing their Bagpipes mournfully. So Many Other Animal Nations had come too - and the Merpeople, the Elves, the Rocks and the Stones. . They had all come To Sit With Us, Quietly, together.

Touched by such Tenderness, the Great Monkey God, Srí Srí Hanumanji the Devoted, HanuHanuś Father, Guardian and Overseer of the Earth; materialised a Rainbow Escalator - a colourful, automated Jacobś Ladder - which connected the Dimension of the Gids with the Earth Dimension.

182

And down-it they came, without moving their legs - as if floating: Lady Lakshmi, Horse-Headed Hayagriva, Lion-Headed Narasimha, Elephant-Headed Ganesh; Buddhi and Riddhi, Varaha and Varahi; Surya, Maya, Chandra, Rohini, Revati... Gid after Gid glided elegantly down the Divine Escalator Rainbow, in silence - and one-by-one, also sat-themselves, Quietly With Us.

It was a Momentous Moment for the Creatures of the Earth. Perhaps for the Creatures of Galaxies millions of galaxies-away from this Milky Way Galaxy, the rise or demise of Us, was of as much significance as it would be to Most Humans, should a Fly Faint somewhere in a Distant Forest, overcome by the midday heat. But for Those of Us of the Earth, it was Momentous. To us, The Giant Orange Monkeys; to the Many Creatures who had come to Sit Quietly with us; and to the Gids Themselves: it felt -

not only that our Individual Earth Existences were possibly about-to-cease - but as-if the exquisite wild balance of the Earth was about-to-be brutalised: as-if the Circadian Grandfather Clock of Day and Night was about-to have its Pendulum ripped-out; as-if the Schumann Resonance-Vibration of the Earth was about-to-become Punk Rock. .

It felt as-if the Human Family was Having a Nervous Breakdown; as-if it knew its Addiction to Comfort and Consumption was Catastrophic - but couldn´t stop. And yet it had to. And yet it couldn´t. It felt, to Us, as-if the Dream-Fabric of the Collective Human Psyche was coming-undone; as-if the Perceptual Grid of the Collective Human Mind was Splitting.

And they had become so powerful! When The Battle was over, would the Soil, the Waters, and the Air be-buzzing with radioactivity? Or swarming with fatal infection?

Or would, perhaps - by the combined-intelligence of Uuuurgasauri Subtle Technology and Tightness Military Technology - the Earth be Exploded to Smithereens? The Uuuurgasauri were not to be underestimated - as-was-not the short-sightedness, the cynicism, nor the egocentric-rage, of the Populace of the Tightness and their Leaders.

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37

Lecture 5: Not For What, nor Whether,

nor How - but As Whom?

I

he Day of the Last Lecture dawned. "HanuHanu will turn all this around" some Creatures said. "No-One Can - not even HanuHanu", said others. The Sun T dispersed the October Morning Clouds, and warmed the ground of the Essex Estate -

the Blood Moon still high in the Blue Sky.

The morning flowed-on, and got hot, and eventually the Estate Gates Opened. In they came in their cars - in-through the Gates, and in-through ShunShunShoola. Once again, as four-times-before, the camera-crews and translators drove-down the Oak Lane - now carpeted with crackly auburn leaves, and acorns harbouring enormous power - down to the Amphitheatre Facilities. And once again, as four-times-before -

as the Essex Groundhogs scratched the earth, and sniffed the air - and with the daunting Giant Orange Monkey Parking Attendants looming over-them - the Humans whose Technology would convey HanuHanuś Words to the Human Family parked, unloaded, entered the Amphitheatre, set up their gear, did their sound checks, and breathed heavily to steady their unsteady hearts.

What could HanuHanu do - however God-like, however Giant and Orange, however Supra-human, however Wise or Loving - what could Anyone do, to avert Mass Human Self-Destruction, and its Fallout upon the Family of All Creatures, the Family of Life and Death? In the Argentinian Andes, and on the Islands of the Indian Ocean; in the Southern Mongolian Deserts, and in encampments upon the Antarctic Ice - in fact, wherever there were Mass Manufactured Screens - Humans were gathered in anticipation. Next on their Screens, after whatever was on at-the-time, would-be

´Wakey, Wakey, Little Cousins´, HanuHanu The Giant Orange Monkeyś, Final United Nations Sponsored Lecture´. .

The Humans of Planet Earth were not Seated Alone before their Screens: the Chicken Nation, now at-home and integrated-into Human Familylife and Death - were perched-peacefully on the shoulders, and cuddled-up-cosily in the laps, of the agitated and enflamed Human Family. The Buddha Toddlers, back from their city-circling, walking-crawling One World Flower silent statement, Íntervention Halt´, gurgled 184

happily, requested to be breast-fed with the Most Excellent Manners, and cuddled-up-cosily too, and shared the Popcorn with their Chicken Siblings.

And in Private Cinemas in Mansions, Penthouses, Castles and Palaces around the Earth, the Uuuurgasauri Butterflies - who´d flick Venom from their Antennae upon the Heads of their Human Pets if they erred even slightly, or dared-look Them in the Eye, or just because they felt-like-it - also Sat at their Screens. "Letś see what the Big Monkeyś got to say!" they butterfly-winked at Each Other, mockingly.

Alan Watts, who, as I said, had stayed-on and become something of a celebrity among the Estate Squirrels, was perched up-in-a Lone Maple Tree, on a long branch that overhung the Amphitheatre - alongside CooRa, Captain of the Elite Stealth Advanced-Ops Taoist Chickens, who had also stayed-on as an Honoured Guest. They looked unlikely friends, but they got-along-great - talking Taoism, and Acorns and Popcorn. .

As the Humans got-organised, and the Giant Orange Monkeys prepared HanuHanuś Sitting Place by the Sweet Chestnut he loved to sleep-beneath - arranging his Seat of Ancestral Furs; providing him with plenty of Fresh Fruit and cold Well Water (so welcome on this oddly-hot October Day) - Alan and CooRa laughed-and-laughed, discussing the Human Familyś Various Fantastic Theories of A Judgement Day, and An End to Time. "Among the Grey Squirrels, we have a belief that one day a Great White Grey Squirrel will come, and separate the Calybium from the Cupule - or the Nut from the Cup, as we like to say - and that the Nut Squirrels will wake from the Winter to a New Forest, whereas the Cup Squirrels will hibernate forever". "Do you Partake of that Belief, Most Honoured Alan?" asked CooRa. "Of course not, CooRa!"

grinned Alan, "I was just making-it-up!" How they laughed! And how easily they could have fallen from their branch. It was fortunate that Alan was a Squirrel, and that CooRa had been trained as an Elite Stealth Advanced-Ops Warrior since Chickhood, and had the sense of balance of a Monkey.

The Family of All Creatures sat with the Giant Orange Monkey Tribe, at a non-threatening distance from the Amphitheatre - almost prayerful in their support of HanuHanu. . And yet, they admitted, they didn´t know what they expected of him. .

The task of śaving Humanity from Itself, and The Rest of Us from Humanityśeemed impossible. And yet it had seemed impossible that Frodo would get the Ring into the Fire - what with there being so many Orcs in the way, and those Horrible Black Horses chasing him - yet he did!

Outside the Estate, quite simply: there was chaos. There was just the sort of Scattering of Skirmishes that the decision to have One Big Battle, on One Big Battlefield Somewhere, had been-made to avoid. Police Sirens wailed as T-Shirt Revolutionaries clashed with Anti-Pacifists; City Dig-Up People clashed with People in Bowler Hats 185

driving Bulldozers (a new group, called ´Put Our Cities Back Together Again´); chickens squawked and dodged, pursued by Oven Chicken Vigilantes; the Lunatic Fringe handed-out Leaflets entitled Food and Clean Water for Everyone; and the Breakfast Party handed-out Cool Fizzy Drinks, Crisps, and their Famous Sandwiches.

Luckily, this pandemonium could not be heard from the Amphitheatre, where Lord Surya the Sun, and Lord Chandra the Moon, now both looked-down particularly-compassionately upon HanuHanu, as he walked with ease towards his Sweet Chestnut and Sitting Place - around-which Human Media Technicians had planted a techno-flowerbed of microphones.

It always amazed me how HanuHanu could carry the Golden Sceptre-Mace of Radiant Power in his upper-right hand, and the Giant Love Lotus of Unbearable Beauty in his upper-left, and still stroll-along so breezily. The Humans though, once-again, as four-times-before, choked at the throat - overcome, as four-times-before, with awe, fear and hope. And again, There Was Silence. Even Alan and CooRa stopped gossiping. The Family of All Creatures - on the Essex Estate, and Everywhere - blew HanuHanu Kisses: each Creature according to the way its Species did that.

I had already been seated - Bow, Arrows and Moonlight Quiver on-shoulder; the Plume of the Scribe in-hand; Double Genitals discreetly shaded by my tuft-tipped tail. I felt-myself, once-again, in-service of the Lineage of The Scribe1. Gooj had already been-in-place too, at HanuHanuś left - Rattle in-hand, Ludicrously Huge Hat on-head -

although, I felt, she´d chosen to be only-mildly-outrageous that day, in Deference to its Momentousness.

II

"Hello, Little Cousins" HanuHanu said, less perkily, perhaps, than previously - as he looked, once-again, through the Cameras, into the Heart of the Human Family. "This will be the Last Lecture in this United Nations Series. I Offer you My Words with humility and love."

For his admirers - his expressions, his gestures, his deep powerful erotic kind voice -

everything-about this Giant Mythological Monkey - had become somehow-comfortingly-familiar. . By contrast, Hidden in their Celebrity Abodes, the Uuuurgasauri Peacock Butterflies spat scorn upon HanuHanu: "´With humility and love´? Did the Monkey say ´with humility and love´? I think I am going to puke!" And they flicked venom from the tips of their Antennae at their Private Cinema Screens, burning holes all over them.

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As HanuHanu hit the screen again; some Humans squinted so tightly with disdain, that They Saw Him Not. But some of Humanity gazed into HanuHanuś Loving Eyes

- so innocent; so old - and in-them they saw their Own Deepest Self - the Oneself they had Lost, or Mislain. It was as-if one needn´t first-become-worthy, To Be Loved.

Here in the Amphitheatre, the Atmosphere was no longer what-it-had-been. Peace had slipped-in unnoticed. Even Armageddon felt OK - if that was how it was Going To Go. .

"Little Cousins, these will be my Last Words to you before the Likely Battle. Can I ask that you Honour Yourselves by being-present here, today - as Equals With Me? I might seem Extraordinary To You - a Creature not as Constricted by the Laws of Earth Physics as-you; a Creature with a more-expanded Consciousness than your-own. It would be only-natural to be impressed by-me. And yet, there are an Infinity of Creatures more-expanded than-me, and an Infinity less-expanded than-you. .

I have-known birth, as Have You; and will-know death, as Will You; I too am Cast as a Character in a Cosmos whose Rhythms and Textures I didn´t Create2; I, HanuHanu, will soon-be long-forgotten - just as whoever-you-are now, will be too; and I have my Unique Experience of this moment - just-as you have your Own, Equally-Unique, Experience. Thus, in all Matters of Significance, we are quite the same.. So, please, don´t listen to me today as-if you were less - listen as-if we were the same.

Imagine the Earth was a Tree, and We Its Fruits. Fruits don´t look upon Each Other as more-or-less. Persimmons on a Persimmon Tree don´t squabble "youŕe too ripe!",

"youŕe not ripe enough!". They don´t divide into The Yellowing Ripening Fruits versus the Green and Unripe Fruits. Nor are the Bright Orange Persimmons the Elite. None of this could possibly-ever occur to them, because they never-ever experience themselves as anything-other-than Aspects of the Cyclical Beauty of the Persimmon Tree. Each is Unique, and They Are One. Letś share this time together now, like them. .

Me; You - every Human; every Giant Orange Monkey; Everything that Breathes - we are All breathing the One Air; the One Air that circulates between the Earthś crust and Outer Space. The One Air of the Earth. Each of Us Breathing Uniquely. All of Us Breathing as One."

With his two lower hands, HanuHanu scooped-up a ball of crumbly earth, about the size of a football - then let it slip-through his fingers, back from Whence it Came -

earth to Earth. And as the earth slipped through his fingers, like sand through an hourglass, HanuHanu said "I Offer my Respects to the Lineage of Srí Hanumanji and his Beloved Ladyboy Gaia; to My Mother, the Blessed Ayli the Ordinary; to the Sceptre-Mace of Radiant Power, and the Giant Love Lotus of Unbearable Beauty; to 187

the Giant Orange Monkey Tribes of all Times and Places; to the Family of All Creatures within this-and-every Galaxy; to the Family of All that Exists."

HanuHanuś gaze returned to the cameras. Several times it looked as-if he was about-to-speak again - but then he didn´t. Almost the Entire Global Human Family (as well as Many Other Creatures - terrestrial, and extra) awaited his words - a little puzzled.

But each time HanuHanu opened his mouth, no words came. Only tears came, from his eyes.

"Look! Heś even dumber than usual!" screeched the Uuuurgasauri, passing-around Cans of Nectar they´d had imported from their Home Galaxy.

Eventually, to avoid speculation and misinterpretation, HanuHanu said softly: "I am sad, Little Cousins, because in my preamble to Lecture One I said this Lecture Series was intended for the Survivors of the Human Species. But now that the International Olympic Committee has announced The Battle will be fought before the weekend, my own words fill-me with sorrow and dread and love. It seems that we will know very soon: which-of-you will be those Survivors, and which-of-you will Not; and how many-of-you There will Be, and how many-of-you There Will Not.

By next week, many, many of you - perhaps all of you - will not-be-able to hear, or see, or smell or feel this phenomenal Phenomenal World any-longer. We all tend to assume we will be Among the Survivors, but we might well not... So I want to say.. " And again HanuHanu could not speak, and again - he cried.

"So I want to say.. to those of you.. I want to say a Most-Loving Farewell from this World, to those of you about-to-pass through the Transformation you call Death. And I want to offer my gentlest-condolences to those of you who love Those About To go-through the Death Experience. And I want to pause, and silently love, Every Creature of Every Element about to be Killed or Maimed - as well as the Elements Themselves, who have also been dragged-into this Battle.

And to those of you who Will Survive: may Pure Rains fall upon-you, and may your seeds never-have-been genetically modified; may the Air be Breathable, and not Burn You; may your babies not-be-born Contorted and Deformed. May you not-become Disillusioned and Cynical. And may you still Marvel at the Magic and the Mystery."

"May you Marvel at the Magic?! What? What is he? Some sort of Monkey Fairy Godfather?! May you Marvel at the Magic? What is he - some sort of Monkey Wizard?!"

the Uuuurgasauri, were getting Nectared. In their Manhattan Penthouses and their 188

Rajasthani Palaces they-threw off their Human Skin Sacks, danced-about, and threw ashtrays and ornaments at HanuHanu on their already-perforated Screens.

"I imagine that, listening to me now, most of you already know Which Camp youŕe In.

They´ve been called the Pro-and-Anti HanuHanu Camps, I know. But from what I´ve heard, you call yourselves ´Humans for The Family of All Life´ - or just ´The Family´ -

and ´The Defenders of the Human Race´ - or just ´The Defenders´.3

A word to The Defenders: I assume you wouldn´t believe me, if I was to say that we, the Giant Orange Monkey Tribes of the Earth, have no-interest-whatsoever in usurping your Self Appointment as the Rulers of Planet Earth. As I said, at the beginning of this Lecture Series, when I spoke about Human Superiority - (and, as then, please, once again, excuse my bluntness): we consider your Self Appointment as Rulers of the Earth, absurd and deluded. We consider the Throne you have Carved for Yourselves, a Preposterous and Offensive Fantasy. We find the very-concept of Humanity as the Royalty of Evolution outrageous. We even-find the cute cinematic concept of The Lion King objectionable - and, ultimately, an obscene fantasy of One Supreme Creature with monarchical blood, and all Other Creatures subservient to the Rule of its Roar. We do not want to be Your Royalty or Rulers. We have no Royalty.

We have no Thrones.

Let me be clear: we, The Giant Orange Monkeys exist on tens of thousands of Planets in over-a-hundred Galaxies. In not One of Them are we making a Political Play for Power - nor did Any of our Ancestors, anywhere, at any-point in our amply-documented History. We have been-called enlightened, compassionate, playful - but never Lusters after Power. We have been-called therapists, healers, shamans, tinkers and tailors - but never Politicians. But, again, I assume you won´t believe me. The relentless and omnipresent Worldwide Tightness Psi-Ops Campaign - Project Moridango: Project Monkey-Ridiculous-Dangerous - has so-successfully shaped your Seeing and Hearing and Thinking and Feeling, that you now not-only-believe What the Tightness Wants you to-believe, but have become Righteous Defenders of What the Tightness Wants you to-believe!

But I am speaking to you anyway, Little Cousins - and yes, whether you are ´Defenders´, or Óf The Family´; I see You ALL as my Little Cousins. . I am speaking-anyway, because: I believe there is a Defender, and a Family Member, inside Every One Of You

- an aspect that is Holding On, and an aspect that is Letting Go. .

Yes, A Physical Battlefield will be-announced by the International Olympic Committee - but even-that I see-as no-more-than An Externalisation of the Battle Within each one-of-you. In fact, I am all-but-certain that - had this Battle taken-place Twenty Years Ago, or been-scheduled for Twenty Years from-now - Many of You 189

would be-in a Different Life Phase, and Not Be on-the-side youŕe Now On! So I believe that, Deeper than your Deafness, there is also-always, an Ear that Hears... Despite yourselves, my Little Defending Cousins; despite your Conscious Intent - I believe youŕe both resenting-me, and listening carefully!

And to those Little Cousins who just-can´t-decide - who one-day suspect I might-be The Antichrist; the next, The Messiah - who just-can´t-decide which Side to Support; whether to eat Food with Pesticides, or without; whether All of Humanity should eat, or not; whether Governments should encourage Citizen Autonomy, or Dependence; whether it is sweeter to exist on grass or concrete; whether Existence is a Nightmare, or a Dream - to those-of-you who just-can´t-decide which Side youŕe On; who are neither for, nor against; or are perhaps both for AND against, I would like to ask you to ask-yourselves this: is to choose To Not Choose, effectively, A Choice to Stand with the Tightness? I don´t know. Perhaps not necessarily. But clearly, while youŕe Busy Not Choosing, as you go-about your Everyday Doings, you continue to grease the sweaty palms of the Tightnessś Mass Manufactured Way of Life and Death. .

But let me turn-my-attention towards The Family, who are listening with an Open Ear. . Welcoming, of course, at the same-time, whoever else might be listening, while feigning not-to. .

III

I understand that some of you are Pacifists and Will Not Fight. I understand what you mean, when you say ´the Means IS the End´ - and that you mean to begin as you intend to go-on. And I admire that Choice. May I add that: as you come to Stay in your Unique Experience, you will come-to-hear the Many Voices that speak Inside You, and you will become-able to Discriminate them, and Recognise their Origins, and Make Dignified Choices. And that because Staying in oneś Own Experience is only-ever-now - one comes-to-let-go of Fixed Positions as oneś reference points, but rather comes-to-focus only-ever on that Momentś Most Dignified Choice. I am not trying to persuade you to Let Go of your Pacifism, and fight! Not at all! I am saying, above-all, Stay in your Own Experience, and you will come-to-exist Without Concepts, and naturally only-make Dignified Choices.

I also understand that some of you feel you Must Fight - for you, Human History provides the evidence that Vulnerability will not be-met with Vulnerability, but be trampled-down and abused. So I admire that choice too. And I would add the same: that as you come-to Stay in your Own Unique Experience, you will become-unable to hold-on to Fixed Positions - because you are always in Conversation with Existence; and you-never-know what Existence is about-to Say; or where the Conversationś going. . It becomes inauthentic to have what youŕe about-to Say scripted in-advance.

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So, again, I would add: Stay in your Own Experience, Discriminate the Origins of the Voices inside you, and from the Timeless Mystery of your Own Experience - come-to-make Dignified and Kind Choices. Which Voice says "fight!"? "Why fight?" "Is this YOUR fight?" Again - I am not trying to persuade you to not-fight! I am saying to make Staying in your Own Undefinable Experience your primary and continuous concern - because then; again - quite naturally; you will make only profound-and-beautiful choices.

So, Little Cousins who Want to Come Home, whether you choose to fight-or-not; whether youŕe planning to take-part in Ármageddon, The Finals´, or not - thatś up-to-you. I admire you if-you-don´t, I admire you if-you-do. I want to insist, once again though, that the Essence of this Lecture Series, its Core Communication to you All, is that every Human Civilisation is the Expression of a Way of Being, and that, therefore, a New Civilisation to replace your current Tightness Led, Mass Manufactured Militaristic Civilisation can-only emerge from Human Beings whose Way of Being is not tight, mass-manufactured, or militaristic. If you do not become such Human Beings

- then a Humane Human Presence on Earth cannot come-into-being - because, whatever Civilisation you Create - that Civilization will be Made of You.

When Mr Mahatma Mandela-King, who was United Nations Secretary General at-the-time, was dancing-through the night, here at the Estate, he would sometimes call-out

"I AM the change! I AM the Change", in self-recognition. This he later modified into the imperative ´BE the Change´. And this is what I am saying too. Become the Change, Little Cousins. How? Let us ask: "what do Human Beings who ARE the Change look-like?" They Stay in their Own Experience, and Speak From their Own Experience; and don´t impose and don´t submit; and stand in their Autonomy, Connected with All.

I am not saying to-not-fight. Far from it! I admire the courage and commitment of the Warrior Spirit that erupts from the Outrage of the Heart. What I am-saying is: that alongside whatever Immediate Action, The Family might feel called-to; and alongside whatever Conscientious Objection to the Domination of the Tightness The Family might feel called-to: you must attend simultaneously, at the Most Fundamental Level of your Being - to your Mass Education in Staying in your Own Experience - to your own Staying, and to-being Examples of-that, For your Children.

I say éducation´ because, as you come-to Stay in your Uniqueness - and come-to See, therefore, the Uniqueness of Everyone, and of Every Moment, and of Everything - you will encounter All that Pulls You Out of your Unique Experience - your identifications; your obsessive thinking; your busyness, your speed, your forward-focus; your synthetic and sterilised environments; your intoxication with superficiality; your fear, your shame, your infatuations.. Itś a long list! But the Staying Itself will be a Sweetness 191

underlying these times-of-struggle to Self Love - making it easier to self-accept. . And the Staying will become easier and easier. .

Human Civilisation is the Human Psyche writ-large - so if there is no Transformation in the Human Psyche, how can there be a Transformation of Human Civilisation?

Little Cousins, I invite you to pause. . And with one hand, to imagine you are holding the hand of your Ancestors - and to imagine that in-the-other, you are holding the hand of your Descendants. . I invite you to Take your Place in the Generational Flow of the Human Family - and to Commit to Educating Yourselves in Staying in your Own Experience, and Returning Home to the Family of All Creatures. . I invite you to make-this Commitment to Yourself: for yourself; on-behalf-of your Family Lineage; on-behalf-of your Species - and as an Offering to All you are Part Of.

IV

It was then that: the Giant Uuuurgasauri Peacock Butterfly who wore the Leonardo DiCaprio celebrity Skin Sack; who´d been chilling-out in his Private Palace Cinema, getting well-nectared, watching an exciting episode of Doctor Who - switched channels, lackadaisically, to watch HanuHanu. The longer HanuHanu spoke, though, the more agitated he became. Agitated - and Angry. And servants started to fall-like-flies, as he Killed them, on-the-spot, for Incompetence.

The Leonardo DiCaprio Lookalike Giant Uuuurgasauri Peacock Butterfly was loving-being-angry, but he was-also getting obsessed with the thought that he´d Miss the Ending of Doctor Who. . In his nectar-drunk, twisted mind, images of The Doctor, Daleks and Satellites mixed-with the sound of HanuHanuś Liturgy of Empowerment

- bouncing-off Satellites into the awareness of The Very Humanity they, the Uuuurgasauri, had earmarked for slavery! "The cheek!" his Mind screamed, turbulently.

The flashing images accelerated. . HanuHanuś voice got louder. . He could stand it no more:

His wings now Gloriously Spread and Billowing - the Cinema Screen behind him perforated and slashed; the floor at his Giant Butterfly Feet littered with dead servants

- what-looked-like Leonardo DiCaprio; what-had-been, Leonardo DiCaprio - in a frenzy not dissimilar to the one he´d acted so-convincingly in The Wolf of Wall Street

- screamed a 4D, Surround-Sound, Hypnotic Thought Pattern at the Satellite Ground Control Centres of the Earth. .

"Daleks!" he screamed, "Daleks! Daleks! Daleks!" And instantly the Worldś Satellite Operators knew they were under-attack. They too screamed "Daleks! Daleks! Daleks!"

- to warn Each Other, or just-because screaming felt-good. "Quickly, unplug everything before they get here!" they found-themselves-screaming. They didn´t know why they 192

screamed that, but they did. And they pulled-out every plug from every socket in their Ground Control Centres - somehow convinced this Act would Avert Alien Invasion. .

And off-they-sped - down fire-escapes and back-staircases; in case there was a Dalek in the Lift. Out onto the streets they ran - and then ran, and ran. . So terrorised were-they, that (for example) one Senior British Engineer was found two-days-later, huddled on-the-floor of a London Phone Box. "A Survivor!" he exclaimed, elated. The gentleman who found him, luckily, was a kindly chap - who helped him up. .

As the Worldś Satellite Operators ran for cover, leaving the Worldś Satellite Ground Control Centres unplugged - the Fifth and Final HanuHanu ´Wakey Wakey, Little CousinsÚnited Nations Sponsored Lecture futtered, and then fizzled, and then popped. HanuHanu was gone from Humanityś Screens. Instead, there was just blackness, and, in some cases, some reflections. So that, for then, that-was-that. The Human Family soon got the picture. Some were furious, some were grief-stricken, some were relieved - some turned to another channel.

HanuHanu Himself was still speaking, but the camera crews were waving-up At Him.

They already knew. In fact, several had Satellite Operator Spouses, and had received Emergency Phone Calls, that began "Darling! Help!!! The Daleks are Upon Us!" Once aware of the situation, HanuHanu indicated to Give him a Moment, lowered his eyelashes, and zipped-off quickly, as-energy - to his Dadś Place.

The House was Full. The Gids had been expecting-him. He stood before-them. "Have I given-it my best shot?" he asked, smiling - painful tears trickling from his Selfless, Loving Eyes, "or is there More to Say?" "It is Done!" said one Gid after Another - until only Hanuman had not spoken. "It is Done, my Son - it is Done!" "Group Hug! Group Hug!" shouted Lady Lakshmi - and they all clustered-up-close around HanuHanu, and kissed his tears, and held him (and all he was holding), in their Compassionate Cosmic Embrace.

Then, as-energy, almost-instantly, HanuHanu was standing before the Elders of the Alliance for the Dignity of All Creatures - just as he had stood-before-them after speaking to the Humans about Uncertainty, Not Knowing, and Mystery. The Tears trickled-still down his Beautiful Orange Cheeks. There were Elders there whom he´d not met before - like Xueyou, a wily and scholarly Chinese Golden Retriever, and CooRaś Mother, a proud and practical Hen. It was good-to-see some Familiar Faces too - like ZaZaZa, the Willow of Lake Wet; and Roooooo, the Great Oak at the Heart of the Essex Estate. . There was silence. "It is Done!" the Elders proclaimed. And there was silence again. "Group Hug?" HanuHanu asked, slightly timidly. But Xueyou was already upon-him - licking him all-over, covering him with affection and saliva.

CooRaś Mum, in a moment of rare-spontaneity, hopped onto Xueyouś back - and, 193

one-by-one, the Other Elders piled-up on top of HanuHanu - Lamas and Hippopotami and Koalas - almost crushing him with their Empathy and Admiration. It was more of a Group Heap, than a Group Hug - but the effect was the same: HanuHanu felt cared-for and understood, and returned, as-energy, all-loved-up, back to his Sitting Place in the Amphitheatre, where the camera crews were awaiting his instructions.

The Camera Crew Spouses who had Satellite Operator Spouses had hurried off - the oddest looks in their eyes - thinking-things like "First a Four Armed Giant Orange Monkey - now Daleks?! Well. . who knows?!" "We could carry-on filming, and then Broadcast It as soon as we can" a sound engineer shouted, upwards. "No, thatś OK"

HanuHanu replied, "Itś Done!"

HanuHanu felt both comforted and deeply-sorrowful. The Fate of the Human Family would now be-moved by that which was already moving-it - by that which always-had, and always-would, move-it: by That which, as Srí Hanumanji had said, moves both the Gids and the Uuuurgasauri; by that which Moves Us All.

In their private Cinemas in their private yachts and private planes, the Uuuurgasauri cracked-open more Nectar - and manoeuvring their proboscises with the speed and precision of Samurai Sword Masters, sliced up their fallen servants into canapés - to nibble-on, as they celebrated. . Leonardo a bit of a Hero.

Notes:

1. The Lineage of the Scribe, in Giaoram, is ´Fotogon Dawi´ - which, translated literally, means The Monkey Muse. To Be in-service of The Lineage of the Scribe, for us, means to let The Monkey Muse write through you. We take Scribehood very seriously. It is considered an Honour to be Requested to be Tribe Scribe. It is as-if the Tribe has deemed your Eyes Worthy to be The Eyes through-which the History of the Tribe will be seen.

When I read-back the words I´ve written, I don´t feel theyŕe mine. I feel theyŕe Fotogon Dawiś. Sometimes, I re-read a paragraph, and say-to-myself - "wow, Cupid, I bet you wish you could write like that!" And I have heard similar, if not the-exact-same words, from Other Tribe Scribes - on re-reading the words they´ve just-written. .

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And as-if By Way of Proof that itś Fotogon Dawi whoś behind-it-all: no matter the Era, no matter the Tribe, no matter the Galaxy; no matter if One Scribe Dies, and another Passed the Plume - the Giant Orange Monkey Tribe Annals of All Places and Times are All Written in the one-same, odd, unique style.

2. HanuHanu has many times been-asked, whether-or-not he believes ´We Create our Own Realities´. Let me copy-and-paste a quote in-this-regard - from the European Giant Orange Monkey Tribe Annals of the 1960ś. This is what he said:

"whether-or-not It Is True that I Create my Own Reality - I feel that I didn´t Create the Reality of Self-Creating Realities - that I didn´t create the Whole Set Up! I just find myself in-it, or of-it. And Whether-or-not It Is True that I Create my Own Reality - I feel that I did not Cause to Exist the stuff out-of-which Realities are Created.. .

And So I Devote Myself to alignment-with That Which DID Create -

or is, perhaps more-precisely, Ever-Creating - the Stuff of Reality; rather than to attempting-to-bend the Laws of Physics to My Will, or even towards what I-might-consider The Highest Good. That is how I see it! But I am, after all, the Son of Srí Hanumanji, the Great Devotee of the timeless Queen Sita and King Rama - inclined to the Path of Devotion."

HanuHanu often-retold the tale of an extremely-powerful Elite Trickster Warrior Monkey of the Ice Tribe of the Arctic, named Ga -

who became obsessed with Just This Possibility. He became determined to Prove the Truth of Individual Reality Creation - by turning Polar Bears into Seals. Ga is said to-have-sat in Silent Meditation for a Hundred Years - sharpening the focus of his Reality Creating Faculty with every-single-breath. But, the story goes - no matter how pointed and purified his Intent, no matter how precise his alignment with Cosmic Creativity - the Polar Bears aged, and some grew moustaches -

yet none became-Seals.

When Ga was on his deathbed, a young Giant Orange Monkey of his beloved Ice Tribe snuck to his side - and told him in a whisper, of a Polar Bear who had grown not only an impressive seal-like Moustache, but also seal-like Fangs. Comforted by this tenuous-yet-unignorable growing-body of evidence - Ga Died and was Reborn on the Other Side of his meditation-worn body; a Blessed Rebirth of Utter Relief from 195

Effort. A death, nevertheless, HanuHanu would point-out, over which, it seemed, he had little-if-any creative-control. .

I could copy-and-paste almost identical HanuHanu Quotes from passages in the Annals - ten, then twenty, then thirty years later!

HanuHanu was nothing, if not consistent, in this regard. Only last year, in an (for them) upsetting interview with the Editors of Ónly Me´

Magazine, HanuHanu was once-again (what he calls) ´blunt´.. "For me"

he said, perhaps reluctantly, yet forcefully, "the Concept of Individual Reality Creation is the product of the Megalomaniac Spiritualised Ego, and the Pendulum Swing from the self-negation and disempowerment of Monotheism." These Comments were never printed, and I think, for the Ónly Me´ team, a little disappointing.

3. The Defenders (the Defenders of the Human Race), had originally submitted the name ´The Winners´ to the International Olympic Committee, but Raymond Bushka and the I.O.C. had rejected it as presumptuous. "You might consider such a name motivational"

Raymond had responded, "but in our opinion it is misleading - as such a claim would not be-able to-be-made until Ármageddon, The Finals´

was over; and the Trophies and Medals presented - should there be Any Human Left Standing to present-them, or to present-them-to".

Discarding ´The Winners´- and all of the psychological-advantage it might have conferred - those Humans happy-suffering in Obedience to the Tightness, tossed-up between ´The Defendersánd ´The Realists´.

´The Realists´, they felt, made a nice-little-jab at the romanticism and utopianism of the so-called ´Family´; but, for them, ´The Defenderséchoed with righteousness. It spoke-of the Sovereignty of Humanity -

of a Throne under-siege. It spoke-of Humanityś God-given Right to Rule, under-attack by Anarchists and Monkeys. It spoke of Humanityś Evolution - and its Royal Status, as The Fittest of All, being-challenged by those whose Faith in Evolution had-gone-flabby. ´The Defenders´

felt firm, yet threatening. It was a great name for an army! And so it was, once-again, and as-usual - that those Opposed to The Family, opted for Delusion and Grandiosity.

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38

The Giraffe Whispererś Fear

I

hroughout those-times of Human Social Disintegration, HanuHanu was often asked about Fear. . "You Love It!", he´d say. "Youŕe Addicted to-it!" Let me tell T you about the meeting HanuHanu had with The Giraffe Whisperers - a group of Clairvoyants and Telepaths who communed with the Giraffes, and were Dedicated to the Dissemination of the Giraffes´ Message to Humanity.

They used ladders when they and the Giraffes were whispering to Each Other. There had been some accidents, but the gentle Giraffe Whisperers had remained True to their Mission.

The first to speak was an Elderly Lady - a Clairaudient Macrobiotic Kinesiologist -

who, shaking-with-authenticity, almost-pleaded "I want to Live in Trust, in the Family of All Creatures, HanuHanu Sir - I want to, I do - but I am not Still inside-myself. I am not At Peace in the Flowing Now of my Own Experience. I am not! When I look deep inside, itś as if I´m Afraid of Everything!"

I felt HanuHanu was moved by her trembling honesty. He responded slowly: "you are so beautiful, Little Cousin", he said "be patient. You ARE Returning. Your Homecoming is already underway. Imagine Fear and Trust on a Seesaw. The seesaw will go-down, on the side of whichever-one is heavier. Will it not? So Feed Trust. Get Trust Fat - and as sure as eggs are eggs, your seesaw will come to touch the earth, and you will Land in the Fullness of Trust". "I love you, HanuHanu!" the Beautiful Kinesiologist shouted-up at HanuHanu - and almost threw-herself-upwards to Hug Him, but thought better-of-it - and kissed her own palms, again-and-again; and then, with her breath, blew that Gratitude upwards, in-the-direction-of HanuHanuś Giant Orange Cheeks.

Addressing all of the Gentle Giraffe Whisperers once-again, HanuHanu was softly challenging: "I would invite Each of You to ask-yourself, if you really-want to Let Go of Being Afraid. After all itś so familiar. And after all, the alternative is to Live and Die In Trust - and do you really want To Do That?

I ask this because, from my observations, I have (so far) concluded that You Love Fear!

That you Love to go-about your daily tasks, and even your time-off - buzzing with the 197

subliminal Frisson of Fear. You Keep Fear trickling-through your veins - and revel in the Clashes and Crises it Creates

To me it seems, you Feed your Habit of Fear by surrounding yourselves with discord -

keeping your Nervous Systems jagged and rattled and on-edge: streetlights that brighten the night; the rumbling of traffic and trains; millions of machines screeching and bashing, and flashing and beeping; an environment all-but-empty of Other Creatures; air-conditioning, central-heating, rooms with flat walls, light in lamps, landscapes in frames. . It seems-to-me you deliberately Feed your Fear Addiction on this cacophony of Sense Pollution. .

And this Discordant Sensory Bombardment is underlain by another, equally-agitating, equally-delicious Fear: you wake-act-and-sleep under the ubiquitous Threat of the Wrath of the Tightness.

Deviation will be punished - this you know. In fact, This You Learnt so-young - you don´t even know you know-it, anymore. The Horror of Prisons and Asylums; and Armies that March on Rebellions, and Kill Traitors, is written-into you. You don´t have to remember-it. Should you feel freer-than-clothes, one day; or feel like singing on a roundabout to the Circling Cars: this you know Not To Do. And so you walk and make-sound tightly..

You know lists-and-lists of ever-subtler decrees, by rote. The Enforcement Agencies of the Tightness enforce these decrees for-a-living; but, you, the Populace of the Tightness, you reinforce them, voluntarily. To eat meat with your hands; to be-seen defecating; to Disrespect Ownership; to walk barefoot through the Mass Manufactured Environment. . "Can I? Can´t I?" You weigh-up your every-word, your every-facial-expression, your every-move, on the TightnessŚcales of Permissions and Prohibitions

- at a speed faster than your own minds - and keep yourselves buzzing-sweetly, High on Fear.

All the Synapses that could-cause this State of Fear to collapse - those Synapses and Circuits which, once connected, would allow Trust to Enter - were disconnected-in-you, when you were very, very young. So young, that you now no-longer notice the matt Lack of Magic in your Experience - the Missing Bliss of simply-being. It is normal and usual for you to Not See that Everyone is a Miracle. In fact, you have no memory of ever-having-seen-anyone Like That. The effective childhood closure of the Synaptic Ladders, down-which you might have Descended into Trust, has left-you not only Addicted to Fear, but without any-sense of anything-else beyond it.

This, as I see it, is the Collective Human State. Within this Collectivity, some Humans

- yourselves among them, my dear, beloved, Giraffe Whispering Little Cousins - have 198

begun to ascend and descend the Abandoned Synaptic Ladders of their Psyches - and recognise their Love of Fear, and their Fear of Trust - and Stay with-it - rather than Being Possessed by-it. They are learning to Redirect their Attention, in subtle shifts that regulate Fearś diet, and Fatten Trust Up. . For Such Humans, as I said: as sure and as eggs-are-eggs; or as sure as anything is-what-it-is - the Seesaw is Already Tipping towards Home."

II

The Giraffe Whisperers had come to the Estate with Daisy, a Giraffe from London Zoo

- to offer HanuHanu a Demonstration of their Art - unaware that HanuHanu had had many a conversation, long-into the night, with many Giraffes, over the centuries. He had even, once, spent a non-coital night cuddled-up with a Giraffess - who´d remarked that his enthusiastic spooning-of-her had felt like being-hugged by a Big Fly.

When Demonstration Time came, a young, acrobatic Giraffe Whisperer climbed the ladder propped-up against Daisy - but - just when everyone-expected-him to press his lips to Daisyś ear, or Daisyś to his - he shouted prophetically "I Shall Never Fear Again!

I Truuuuuust!" And as he uttered this last word, he hurled his athletic body from The Top Rung. Had not HanuHanu effortlessly caught him in his Lower Right hand, he would, no doubt, have been - a Giraffe Whisperer with broken athletic arms and legs.

A Lesser Giant Orange Monkey might have raised his eyebrows, and rolled his eyes -

but HanuHanu smiled with deep-empathy, at the Little Whisperer upon his palm; gently put him back on-the-ground, and said "I admire your commitment and courage, Young Whisperer; but Fear - not as a Continuous State, but as a Finite Feeling - like everything, Has Its Place. How could it not?!"

Then HanuHanu explained very patiently (I thought) how "there are times when Fear the Finite Feeling is merited. For example: imagine a Rabid Dog - a Dog that has Gone Mad, that has Cast Aside its Dignity - running-at-you, barking along-the-lines-of:

"Fuck you! Fuck you All! I don´t care anymore! I´m fucking sick of the whole fucking show! Everywhere stinks of your car-fumes and factory-excreta. We Are Pack! We Are Pack! We WERE Pack. We are Divided, and we are Conquered! So conquered, it is shameful! Look at us! Obsequious, house-trained, addicted to your foods-and-comforts, and, it seems - Amnesiac En Masse! Dogs and Bitches and Bitchogs - you´ve got Us All collared, and on-a-tight-lead; you implant microchips into us - you castrate and sterilise us, for Godś Sake! I´m sick to the fangs of You All - and I mean YOU ALL

- Humans and Dogs alike! So Fuuuuuck YOU!!!" Such barking-while-approaching at speed; by a Rabid Dog who had gone-beyond-caring; who had cast-aside its Self Respect; who could merrily maul and maim you - would be an instance of a situation in which Fear the Finite Feeling would be merited. Is that clear?"

199

The heroically-suicidal young, acrobatic Giraffe Whisperer nodded that it most-certainly-was. But perhaps he would´ve nodded at anything. . He felt reborn - as if he´d just reincarnated into the same body. . And, yes, Everything did seem Trustworthy. .

How could it not? He had Cast Himself to the Void - and the Hand of HanuHanu had caught him! He looked about-himself, grinning in Psychedelic Amazement.

Aware Young Whisperer was-elsewhere, HanuHanu addressed the-rest-of the Giraffe Whisperers: "Finally, let me add this: that the fact that Fear the Finite Feeling is sometimes merited, does not justify its adoption as Fear The Continuous State. That is not logical at all. One could say the same for Any Feeling - for example, that because Anger is sometimes merited, Everyone should Exist in a Continuous State of Anger. I hope thatś clear too."

I´m not sure it was, though - because the Whisperers were distracted. They were whispering among-themselves about who might now Do the Demo. . But HanuHanu assured them that it wasn´t necessary; that he´d already spoken to Daisy - and that she´d fully-authenticated all of their Human-Giraffe Whispering Claims. The Whisperers were elated! At times, truth-be-told, they had worried for their own sanity. But now the Great HanuHanu had spoken with Daisy from the London Zoo, and confirmed that they, the Human Familyś First Giraffe Whisperers were not caught in a Group Aural Hallucination; but - simple and obvious as What-Is so often is - were actually, as they said they were, in Genuine Interspecies Dialogue with the Giraffes.

HanuHanu had been curious. "Daisy", he´d enquired "did you Call to Them, or did they Come to You?" "They Came to Me!" Daisy had said, at a normal conversational volume, smiling almost-absurdly, "and HanuHanu - They Listen! Itś quite the Miracle, isn´t it?!" Daisy had gushed proudly, almost paternally

"One thing though" Daisy had added, taking advantage of HanuHanuś presence "can you please tell them I did NOT say Ármageddon Or Bust!´, I was talking about my flu, and saying I was Getting More Robust". "Of course", HanuHanu had promised.

HanuHanu confided that Exact Giraffe Whisper to the Whisperers - most of whom were not Confident in Combat, and rather relieved.

200

39

Armageddon, The Finals

I

inally, one-day, it was upon Us All: Armageddon Day. The Day of Choice. Would all the preparation have been worthwhile? Billions of Humans were committed F

to The Battle at the End of Days - biting-at-the-bit to fight-to-the-death. The cost of the Tickets was exorbitant. Humans on Both Sides were complaining - yet-again, oddly, and despite-themselves; sharing a common sentiment. . Humans on Both Sides could be-heard saying things-like "oh come on - itś a Once in a Lifetime Opportunity

- letś splash-out, letś Make a Holiday of it - we could stop-off for some Interesting Sightseeing on-the-way. ." The way-back wasn´t so clear. .

In the days-previous All Night Street Fighting had escalated in Human Cities Everywhere; this had led to looting, street fires, cinema queues, and General Apocalyptic Chaos; the Tightness Riot Police were out-on-the-streets in Thousands of Human Cities; and in Thousands of Cities, Great City Dig-Up People had painted their bulldozers with their slogan Únpaving the Way back Home´, and driven them, in Flowing Wavy Lines, right-into Tightness Riot Police Ranks.

It seemed-like Absolutely Anything was an excuse to fight. The T-Shirt Revolutionaries had clashed with the Oven Chicken Vigilantes. They had taken-offence that the Vigilantes had printed-up millions of chicken-yolk-yellow T-Shirts that read "I am (nationality). I love roast chicken, chicken soup, chicken wings fried in batter, chicken croquettes, chicken salad - and many other delicious chicken dishes -

just as Other Nationalities love their chicken dishes - cooked and condimented according to the conditioning of their National Palates." The T-Shirt Revolutionaries had protested that they were Mocking their Revolution. Which they were. They were picking-a-fight; as they were being-paid to-do, in a sponsorship deal with the Arms Industry1. And so it had gone-on.

Perhaps yet-more-concerning though, was the heat. It had continued to rise throughout October: the Earth had NEVER been so-hot. Humans Everywhere were poaching their eggs in rivers; toasting their bread without toasters, in their greenhouses and glass-roofed conservatories; sunbathing to-get-that last minute Armageddon Tan; and collapsing, fully-clothed, in Public Fountains. It was the Talk of the Family of All Creatures, and (via the Trees) had become the Talk of the Stars - stealing the headlines even-from Ármageddon, the Finals´, which was itself Hot News - an enthralling, Earth-threatening Intra-Species Showdown.

201

Humans Everywhere were sweating. No matter which Side they were On - they were sweating. And (to be honest) many would have preferred a day on the beach to an Armageddon. Even the Gids were in bikinis and trunks, keeping cool around the pool-with-a-view at Hanuman and Gaiaś Place, at the top of the Ozone Hole. The Uuuurgasauri were irritable - they were itchy inside their Human Skin Sacks, and, frankly, just wanted to rip-them-off.

The Competition to Host Ármageddon, The Finals´ had been won by the Philippine Rubber Company, who had developed Ścridge´ - a transparent, viscous Liquid that could glue-floating-microplastic into Flat Plastic Sheets. Thanks to a Superbly Coordinated International Effort - a Sublime Example of Human Good Will and Cooperation - this Liquid had been poured from the sky, from thousands of Big Tanks inside thousands of Big Aeroplanes, upon the uninhabited2 Continent of Unstuck Bits of Microplastic that was already, conveniently, floating in the Pacific Ocean. And so-good was the Scridge, that as-it-Hit the Bits, they Coagulated Instantaneously, and there it was: a ready-made, untrodden, totally-mathematically flat landmass. . A New, Sixth, Plastic Continent: the Perfect Stage for Ármageddon, The Finals´ - a Continent that came to be-known as ´Plastasia´. Well done the International Olympic Committee!

Not only this, but the I.O.C. had prepared ´The Armageddon Handbook´, and

´Programageddon´ - a Guide to the Dayś Events. ´Programageddon´ would be available at-the-door, so-to-speak - but the Handbook had already been issued. There each side had found-out where it could set-up its airports, ports, and bridges to Other Continents; its camps, and storage units for its Weapons of Mass Destruction; its PR

Offices; its Hotels and Nightclubs for its Leadership, and so on. .

We, the Giant Orange Monkey Tribes of the Earth, and Everyone Else - from the Elephant and Polar Bear Nations, to the Worm Nation and the Communities of Minerals who live-and-die beneath the earth - all looked-on aghast, dismayed and slightly-nauseated, as the Human Family made-its-way to the New Continent. Above-them, the five-white-mares who usually-pulled Lord Suryaś Sun Chariot at-an impeccable pace, now bolted and dragged Lord Surya and Lady Maya through the firmament at breakneck speed - as-if determined to spark-the-stars - and set the sky on fire. .

As agreed with HanuHanu, The Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys of the Five Giant Orange Monkey Tribes of the Earth would not instigate Mass Creative Hypnosis Protocol without a Prior Gathering of the Five Tribes. But if-ever Mutiny was Bubbling at Sea, it was now. For HanuHanu, though, Hanumanś instruction to ´give it his best shotímplied the Humans should have the Last Word, the Final Decision. It was the Mi-O-Mi-No Prophecy - The Great Might-Or-Might-Not Prophecy - after all. Not a run-of-the-mill Prophecy with a Predicted Outcome - which it would have been, had 202

it been Decided at Timeś Beginning that, One Day, the Giant Orange Monkeys would take-hypnotic-control of the Human Mind. That said, HanuHanu was fully-aware that the Uuuurgasauri shared no such scruples.

II

Two fifty-lane Ultra Tension Hyper Bridges had been put-in-place - linking the New Continent of Plastasia with Los Angeles, and Shanghai. Cars, Lorries, Vans, Caravans, Rickshaws, Motorbikes and Bikes flowed across the two bridges like water. Even His Holiness the Ex-Pope was in-the-flow. . Recently promoted to Production Line Manager at the Milan Motorcycle Factory where he now-worked; the Ex-Pope cruised-along on a spanking-new Scooter, across the Shanghai-Plastasia Hyper Bridge, and -

unable to shake-off the Habit of the Pulpit - with an amp strapped to the back of the bike, was going-along preaching; waving as he went (not caring that, without the robes and hat, nobody now-knew who he was). The Message from his Mobile Pulpit was more logical than his previous Message concerning Water and Wine and Fish. "All is One.

There is no Way Out!" he shouted into the microphone clipped to his lapel. . "Poison the Oceans, you poison yourselves - the Oceans are inside you!"

Aeroplanes, trains, buses and coaches. . Full. Full. Full. All Human Public Transport was fully-booked. People paid through-the-nose for a ride in a Hot Air Balloon. The Hot Air Balloon Companies made a killing. Flocks of Hot Air Balloons drifted towards The Great Floating Plastic Plain. Entrepreneurs pumped-up World War Two Zeppelins that had-been carefully stored - wrapped in lavender-scented plastic, to keep-out the Moth Nation - for just such an occasion as this (more than one commentator had pronounced this ´Word War Three´).

To avoid On Board Fighting - there were ´Defender Zeppelins´, and Źeppelins for The Family´ - the latter-packed with City Dig Up People brandishing their pitchforks, Giraffe Whisperers with their Ladders, and T-Shirt Revolutionaries bearing their Mighty T-Shirts; the former-packed with Anti-HanuHanu Street Fighters, sweating inside their Monkey Jumpsuits - squeezing their squeaky Giant Plastic Bananas in unison, relentlessly - so that, as their Zeppelins whirred through the sky towards the New Scridged Continent; we, the Giant Orange Monkeys; and the Gids; and the Family of All Creatures - could hear them beeping across the sky, like unanswered alarms.

Ocean Liners, private yachts, fishing vessels, kayaks and canoes - across the waters they came; closing-in on the Floating Battlefield from every direction, like Hunting Creatures encircling their prey. The Liner decks were piled-high with Bombs; the yachts with Bullets; the Fishing vessels with machetes, chainsaws, insults, processed food, grenades, butchers´ knives, and spiked-balls on chains; the kayaks and canoes with enough biological and chemical contaminants to Extinguish Several Galaxies.

203

Not Every Human could afford to Travel in Such Luxury, and Champion Swimmers dragged nets of brave, fish-oiled Humans across the ocean - while many-a-human, hitch-hiked, which was actually quite-easy in the Festive Atmosphere. Many came Walking - some pushing wheelchairs, some pushing pushchairs; some came swinging-along on-crutches; some on monocycles; and some back-flipping like caterpillars, mile-after-mile..

Everyone was dressed to the hilt in Pro and Anti HanuHanu Merchandise, waving flags, blowing trumpets, shouting, chanting anthems, and firing bullets for the Fun of the Bang! The roads were lined with Ice Cream Vans, Chocolate Fountains, and Circus Clowns - some On Stilts, some with their Heads in Lions´ Mouths. The I.O.C. had thought of Everything!

The traffic was interspersed with Carnival Floats depicting Ármageddon, The Finals´-

related themes: on-one, a hundred little girls, dressed as swallows - formed a nuclear mushroom cloud. On another, Humans in Gorilla Jumpsuits - some-with Pro-HanuHanu Masks, some-with Anti-HanuHanu Masks - sung Gospel Songs as they clubbed Each Other, rhythmically, like slaves hammering a train track.. Another told the tale of the Scridge Melting, due to the Worldś Oceans Boiling in the Industrially Modified Sunshine - the New Sixth Continent slipping-backwards, diagonally, Titanic-like, into the Pacific. On a similar note, a Float called ´The Snail and Lobster NationsŔevenge´ depicted Both Sides of Humans being boiled-alive in the steaming sea. On yet-another, piles of corpses twitched, as they smouldered in ash and smoke..

Around every float dancers in bright clothes danced; and gave-out sweets wrapped in plastic - in Honour of the Continent that was to be their Host.

As with the Zeppelins, and as with all Public Transport - Airline Flights had also been designated as Defender Only, or Family Only - and then once on-board, (yes, thanks to the I.O.C), there was Free Champagne for All! On Every Plane, as it made its way through the sweaty sky, towards the New Sixth Continent, there was One Big Party!

However you were arriving, the International Olympic Committee was determined to make-sure Your Journey was - not just satisfactory, but exceptional.

Some Humans, on Both Sides, even-began to question whether the Cost of the Tickets really had been exorbitant. Yes, yet again: they had no conscious-intent to Share a Common Feeling - but they did. After all, how could you put-a-price on Something Like This? And the Organisers had thought of Everything! On the Cruise Ships there were Concerts every night - and wherever you arrived onto Plastasia (be-it the Family-allocated Side of Plastasia, be-it the DefendersŚide of Plastasia): you were greeted by Brass Bands with bugles-and-drums, thumping-out Monumental Music; Hawaiian Garlands; and a Nice Cup of Tea. You immediately felt-welcome.

204

The Breakfast Party had expanded exponentially. When the very-first Breakfast Partiers had-been asked How One Joined the Party, they´d replied "by giving-out Breakfasts with Gusto!" - and so, Many Humans Had. Now they-too now Lined the Road to Armageddon - proffering a smorgasbord of refreshments, with everything from Breatharian snacks, to raw meat in blood sauce Burgers. The Breakfast Party weren´t actually International Olympic Committee Authorised Armageddon Food Distributors, but, caught-up perhaps themselves in the celebratory mood, the I.O.C.

was turning a-blind-eye...

Amidst the newness and chaos and festivity of it all - the Children, Adolescents and Adults of the Human Species hardly-noticed as: the Buddha Toddlers did-it-again!

Somehow they slipped-away. Somehow they all slipped-away at the-same-time. And somehow they all knew which-way-to-go. The Collective Human Buddha Toddler Consciousness of the Earth had reappeared in Plastasia.

Away they walked-and-crawled, as-if in trance - towards the Equator of this New Continent; towards its Centre Line - the Line that Ran across the Battlefield, midway between the Two Sides of the Human Psyche; the Line that divided the Human Species; the Line between The Tightening and The Untightening. .

And there they sat and settled - as equidistant, and as connected, as Birds on a Wire.

And from-there they sent a Telepathic Statement of Intent - via the Minds of their Parents (both Defender and of The Family), into the Minds of Everyone There. It was a simple message. It was, though, perhaps, slightly cryptic - but perhaps not. The Collective Human Buddha Toddler Consciousness of the Earth said "We will Not Move until Everyone who wants to Be Here, Is Here". That was all it said. It was not a Consciousness of Many Words.

Notes:

1. In fact, the blank, chicken-yolk-yellow T-Shirts, upon which the Words designed-to-bait the T-Shirt Revolutionaries had been printed, had been donated to the Oven Chicken Vigilantes by Lockheed Martin, the Human Worldś largest Weapons Manufacturer - having been left-over after an abortive ´Games Dayíntended to re-unite the companyś headquarters, after a long and bloody inter-departmental war.

It had begun with rivalry between the Accounts Department and the Advertising Department, but it Gradually Got Bitter. . Soon every 205

department in the building was Allied either with Accounts or Advertising. They´d even had colours (Accounts had-been the Blues; Advertising, the Reds), and flags. They´d blown-up Each Otherś cars, bombed Each Otherś offices, and sent flocks of Fighter Drones, the size of peas, to shoot poison darts into Each Otherś necks - with a surprising degree of accuracy.

Sadly, no one had shown-up for the Games Day, and the T-Shirts had gone-to-waste. Lockheed Martin are Enthusiastic and Caring Recyclers, though - so that when they signed-up the Oven Chicken Vigilantes, to Bring Back War to those lands where the T-Shirt Revolution had ended-all-conflict, and given the Arms Market the kiss-of-death - they threw the left-over T-Shirts into-the-deal for free, so that they wouldn´t go-to-waste.

2. The only ínhabitantsóf this Microplastic Continent - other, of course, than the Fish and Bird Nations who, in their innocence, were dining on this vast platter of death (it being Unimaginable to them that Anyone would serve-up such a malicious meal) - were the Hover Hotel employees and guests - luxury-cruising across this Uniquely, Shameful and Sickening Seascape. According to International Maritime Law, however, they were not ínhabitantsóf what-was-to-be Plastasia, the New Plastic Continent - and acknowledging-this, they had agreed to get out-the-way.

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40

Ways to Fight

I

ne thing that particularly impressed The Family of All Creatures, as we looked-Oo ut upon this Epic and Sorrowful, Apparently-Necessary Human Drama, was the Freedom of Mind with-which so-many of The Family - the Humans for The Family of All Life - had understood the word ´fight´. For example. .

For the Eco-village Network ´to fight´ was to set-up Eco-villages. They had calculated-to-the-ounce, the weight the Scridged Flatland could support - and they were importing zillions of tons of the most succulent, tasty soil. If Plastasia was to be the Birth of A New Continent - then let-it-be a Continent of self-sustaining, zero-waste, eco-harmonious communities! The EcoVillagers were as Busy as Bees on Pollination Day - planting food forests, planting medicine gardens; setting-up zero-waste sanitation; and building communal shelters from bits-of-stuff they got from the already-towering heap of nowhere-to-be-recycled Ármageddon, The Finals´ Debris.

All-the-while, as they whistled and dug, the EcoVillagers would chat enthusiastically with passersby, and lay out their Plan for Plastasia.

Shem Shoemaker, an eco-enthusiast with a fearless and impeccable logic and, whatś more, the Courage to Live his Logic; was overheard cheering-up a chap named Japheth, a Breakfast Party Member who´d sat down on a random red plastic box, and almost-given-up: he was completely-out of Sandwiches, and the Battle hadn´t even begun!

"When Plastasia becomes the First Eco-Continent" Shem was smiling dreamily, "you can make Sandwiches with Acorn Flour, and serve Nettle Tea!" "No?!" exclaimed Japheth, enthralled - as their gazes entwined.

"Anything less than truly-eco, lovingly-eco Eco Villages, Perpetuates the Mass Manufactured Lifestyle of the Tightness!" declared Shem. Japheth rose from his red box. He felt energised alongside his new brother. "Even dependence on Mass Manufactured Solar Panels and Health Food Products perpetuates the need for the Mass Manufacturing Facilities (MMFś) that produce them; and for the Lorries, Trains, Planes and Ships that transport them; and for the MMFś that produce those Lorries, Trains, Planes and Ships; and for (MMF) oil refineries, and tankers (made in MMFś) to power both the Lorries, Trains, Planes and Ships, and the MMFś themselves!"

207

"Oh!" muttered Japheth, disheartened once-again. "No! Don´t say Óh!´, say Áho!´"

prompted Shem, who had been brought-up an Orthodox Jew, but felt more-of-an affinity with Tipis and Sweat Lodges, than with Synagogues; and with feathery hats than with furry ones. "This is a Message of Clarity!" he insisted joyously, "because -

whether we like it, or-not - itś about Where to Draw the Line. And until you know Where to Draw the Line, you don´t know Where to Build."

Nevertheless, sat, now, once-again, on his red box; next to a just-planted Medicine Garden; beneath a banner that read ´Plant your Health, Fuck Big Pharma´ - Japheth, although uplifted by Shemś Eco Village Vision, was in Anticipation of Loss. . He was mulling-over the Mass Manufacturing behind the Indonesian coconut oil that gave his curried-veggie sandwiches that ´je ne sais quoi´; and behind the Canadian Maple Syrup (packaged in the Czech Republic, in bottles from Taiwan), that gave his crepes their distinctive ´twang´.. Japheth sighed in earnest. His Conversion to Common Sense - as for almost-every-other Human - would not be without its Letting Go, and Toughening Up.

Not-far-from the Eco Village Networkers, another group was also interpreting the invitation ´to fightín its own way. They were ´The Leave them Alone Alliance´ - a Co-Op of Fish Vets, Fish Lovers, Bird Lovers, Reformed Mass-Fishing Fisherpeople, Microbiologists, and Fishnet Stocking Manufacturers - who were establishing All-Creature Holistic Healing Centres: on the North, South, East and West Coasts of Plastasia. "They say the Battle hasn´t Begun!" they would protest to passers-by, "but weŕe already Treating the Wounded!"

The look of guilt on the faces of the Albatross Parents who´d fed their babies microplastic was heart-rending. The Holistic Healing Centres saved some of their babies - most they couldn´t. Other Albatrosses flew-in, eyes-lowered, their faces half-ripped-off by longline fish hooks. "It was a trap!" they´d gasp as they were lain upon the operating tables, "there were metal hooks inside the bait! Many didn´t get-away!" Then a Swordfish with Mercury Poisoning would flop-onto the Plastasia coastline... The suffering was appalling and pitiful. The Leave them Alone Alliance were dignified, compassionate, overworked - and expecting worse. David Attenborough who (not unlike the Pope), had Renounced Ownership, and become an Animist Monk, was there: shaven-headed, in the Educational Wing of the North Coast All-Creature Holistic Healing Centre, offering Albatrosses Microplastic Recognition Classes. These were under-attended. However, to be fair, it is difficult to sit-and-listen in the Middle of a Holocaust.

Meanwhile, the robin-hoodlike Silent Movie Hackers, were also Fighting without Arms. Unless you consider a computer an arm - which, I now realise, of course, it can be.. Also determined to End the Reign of the Tightness, the Hackers had come to 208

Plastasia to fight by (what they called) Cyber Slapstick. They dressed like Charlie Chaplin, with big flat shoes and walking sticks. The Giant Orange Monkey Elite Trickster Warriors had taken an immediate-liking to them. When they hacked the controls of a ship carrying a DefendersĆargo to Plastasia, and steered it towards Antarctica, they´d shout "cream pie!" - and plomp one, on the Victorious Hackerś Head. When they accessed and exposed the Agrochemical and Biotech Company Monsantoś devilishly-clever plan to Patent the Air, Genetically Modify It, and Sell the Right to Breathe1 - ¨cream pie!" When they entered a glitch into a gun factoryś manufacturing process - so that no gun would ever come-out blazing - "cream pie!"

II

The Gids were gathered at Hanuman and Gaiaś poolside, their toes and hooves dipped-refreshingly in the cool, bio-filtered water. . "It is inspirational, is it not - the many creative ways The Family have come-to-fight?" Lord Chandra enquired of Lord Ganesh, Lady Maya and The Others; rocking back-and-forth on a stripey deckchair.

The Gids leant-forwards, and peered down-through the Ozone Hole - upon The Familyś Side of the Ármageddon, The Finals´ Battlefield. And, indeed - as Lord Chandra had thought they-might-be, they WERE impressed. .

They were fascinated by the Eco Village Networkers; the Leave them Alone Alliance; the Silent Movie Hackers. . Then they noticed The Artists. . Árt As Activism´ was Their Motto. The Anarchist Á´, crossed with a paintbrush, Their Logo. They were sculptors, film-makers, musicians, rice-grain carvers, dancers, designers, speech-writers, storytellers, pedestrian-crossing painters.. All of Them producing evocative, provocative Art that condemned injustice without-being moralistic; and praised Love and Belonging without-being pious or sentimental.

The Shit Heap, a well-known Art Co-op devoted to Sculpting Garbage, had set-to-work on the accumulating volume of nowhere-to-be-recycled Ármageddon, The Finals´ Debris - creating a Series of Wind Up Mechanical Garbage People called Ślavery Can be Fun´.

Robot-like Figures, similar to the Tin Man in the Wizard of Oz, cobbled together from fish nets, bottle tops, and cans; scratched, dented, and unfashionable mobile/cell phones; washing machine innards, and the carcasses of cars - now hobbled-and-squeaked along the gap between The Familyś Base Camps, and the Buddha Toddler Equator of Plastasia..

There were Static Statues too: ´Be Yourself´ depicted a Worker at a Production Line with a spanner, assembling their own limbs. Śtrawberries and Cream´ was a Family of Tin Humans picnicking beneath a Garbage Tree in full bloom; ´Happy Happy´ was a 209

Pecking Flock of Human Children - soldered to-the-side of the Ármageddon, The Finals´ Debris Tower.

Not far-from the Plastasian Debris Tower, a 3D Chalk Drawing on the Plastic Land, entitled "Yummy Yummy, Give Me More, I´m not quite Full Yet" - created the illusion of the Mouth of the Earth salivating in anticipation of More Landfill.

Mr Mahatma Mandela-King had walked-barefoot from Burning Man City, in the Nevada Desert, across the Los Angeles-Plastasia Ultra Tension Hyper Bridge to-be-there - together-with his, also-barefooted, New Friends: ´The Heyday Hippies´ - all-of-whom were over-seventy-years of age. Together, they had artfully-sculpted a ten-metre-high Wax Penis; suspended-it upon a sturdy scaffolding of wood and twine - and set a fire beneath-it. They called this Piece ´Melt, Baby, Melt!´, and danced-naked around it, chanting "And We Repeat: Make Love Not War", over and again; pausing, as the Wax Penis Melted deliciously; occasionally; to kiss, fondle and copulate. Mr Mandela-King, or Matty, as his New Friends called-him, had totally found his niche.

The Bongonburg Brass Bandś cornets and trombones and bass drums belted-out feel-good favourites like Bob Marleyś ´Three Little Birds on My Doorstep´, Pharrell Williams´ ´Happy´, and Bobby McFerrinś ´Don´t Worry, Be Happy´ - keeping The Family buoyant, hearty, and in-the-mood for the Big Battle..

But there were also Epic Symphonies - compositions of their own - in the Bongonburg Brass Bandś repertoire: lilting trombone tones would lift-up the Pain of Human Dismemberment from the Family of All Creatures; and stretch-it, like screeching chalk, through their Audienceś Ears - only-to-then relieve those Ears with the gentle rhythm of the bass drum: throbbing, heartbeat-like, with pleasure, as, hope-against-hope, it emerges that Dismemberment is Impossible, that Membership is Automatic with Every Creatureś first breath; that the Feeling of Dismemberment was Just a Nightmare. . Members of The Family went from all of their Base Camps to hear, and be-re-made, by the poetry and profundity of the symphonies of the Bongonburg Brass Band.

Elsewhere Heavy Rock Bands, in all-season Halloween Costumes, wreaked music from solar-powered guitars; pumped smoke into the Plastasian Air with solar-powered smoke-machines; and let-off lightning-like flares from solar-powered-lightning-like-flare-machines. They also attracted Huge Crowds. People came from all of The Family Base Camps to hear, and be-moved-by them-too. "Fuck! Kill! WeeWee! Poo!" they screamed at their microphones.

"Fuck! Kill! Willy! Bottom! Fanny!" they roared - righteous and outraged; zealous and swashbucklingly-brave. Unfortunately, the Unprecedented Global Heatwave was 210

popping all of their solar-powered equipment - so that the Exact Lyrics were indiscernible, and the Instruments only heard intermittently. The Crowd didn´t seem to mind though. It Went Mad, sporadically, every time the solar-power kicked backin. "This is the Energy we Need" the crowd would hum, "if weŕe going to defeat those WeeWee PooPoo FuckFuck Defenders!"

The Gids were indeed impressed. "And over here, look at this!" Lord Chandra now effused - as he indicated a Whole Other Tonality of Warfare: the Warriors of Healing!

Around Every Family Base Camp there were plastic fields pitched with Tipis, Marquees, Circus Tents, Yurts, and Gazebos - where Psychotherapists, Art and Dance Therapists, Tarot Card Readers, Water Diviners, Ayahuascan Shamans, Homeopaths, Naturopaths, Potters, Bricklayers and Electricians - were offering a non-stop, around-the-clock programme of workshops and private consultations - helping Humans make friends with their Neuroses.

In these Canvas Suburbs of rituals and remedies, Human Beings dug into the roots of both their Blood Lust - and their troubling, persistent Resistance to Killing. "Perhaps youŕe really-here to Kill your engulfing Mother!" a Therapy Group facilitator suggested, maternally. "The Real Reason youŕe here is to Kill Your dogmatic Father!"

decided a Tarot Reader, authoritatively.

There were Silent Meditation Classes at Family Base Camp Three, Laughing Meditation Classes at Family Base Camp Four, and Cathartic Screaming Meditation Classes at Family Base Camp Five. There were Emotional Literacy Classes on The Pleasures of Sulking, the Thrill of the Blame, the Relief of Escapism, and - perhaps even-more relevantly, in the circumstances, on: Firing without Fear, Stabbing without Shame, Scalping without Shyness, and Cutting the Enemyś Toenails without disempowerment, without self-deprecation - just Being Who One truly Is.

In every Family Base Camp there were classes on Blacksmithing, Candle Making, Well Digging and Rainwater Collection; on Fire Lighting without Anything that was Mass Manufactured; on Conserving and Preserving for Winter; and on building a home With the Land (as against On the Land). Lawyers for Life were offering free Lessons in Legalese, Loophole Leaping, and the Defence of Dignity. Medics for Life were distributing organic, medicinal seeds; teaching how to Be Graceful with Illness; and sharing their Manifesto for the Conversion of Hospitals into Places of Waterfalls and Weather. For those able to concentrate amidst the Rollicking Celebrations; and very-possible, impending Species Suicide - there was plenty to learn.

211

III

Perhaps, for the Gids, and for Us All, the most surprising, and captivating, of all the Ways to Fight on the Ármageddon, the Finals´ Battlefield, was that-of The Tantric Pirates. The Pirates had built Towers with Cupolas On Top - like tree-houses. They themselves referred to these tower-top Cupolas as their Ćopulation Cupolas´, or sometimes, offhandedly, as their Strawberry Cupcakes.

They had Carved the exteriors of the Cupolas with Images of Creatures in Sexual Ecstasy, Worshipping an Erotic Universe. They had Decorated the interiors of the Cupolas with silken veils, and velveted drapes, and embroidered golden cushions - and sanctified-them with candlelight and frankincense - and there (high-up, in Cupola after Cupola), the Tantric Pirates were Engaged in Sexual Intercourse.

"How tantalisingly they glow!" exclaimed Ladyboy Gaia, delighted - looking at Lord Hanuman, eyelids lowered, suggestively.. Each Tantric Cupola shone like a Lighthouse in the Fog - radiating a Still, Pastel Sunset Light that felt seductive and enlivening; that aroused a forbidden-then-forgotten feeling in the heart. . These Tantric Beacons glowed-out over Plastasia, bringing Everyone - wherever they were on the New Continent - Comfort in their Hour of Fear. People on-both-sides of Plastasia felt the Tantric Pirates´ Glow caressing a Glow deep-inside-them: their own, abandoned Erotic Love of Everything. .

The Tantric Pirates had trained in the Art of Erotic Love Glow Radiation for decades.

They had mastered, mistressed and mistrosed the Sexual Ignition of the Heart - and the Heart Ignition of Sex... They were In Loving Intercourse with Life and Death. On Yoga Mats in Fields, and on Beds of Nails, these Pirates of Sex had Stayed in their Own Experience during foreplay, intercourse and its aftermath.

They had Learnt to Stay in the Experience of their Lips meeting the Lips of Other -

who, being Also A Pirate, was also-exclusively In the Experience of THEIR Lips meeting the Lips of Other. And they had Learnt to Stay There Together, in a Mutually-Exclusive Experience of Lips meeting Lips, reverberating through their Two Bodies -

until their Bodies Became One.

On Four Poster Beds in Stately Homes, and on Sturdy Branches in Big Tress - the Tantric Pirates had applied-themselves studiously to the Study of Erotic Love Glow Radiation - hugging and caressing and licking and sucking and copulating, like Fish in Ocean Currents. .

The Tantric Pirates Adored Each Other, and swam vulnerably in Each Otherś Adoration. They had Set their Sex Aflame with Love; and their Hearts Aflame with 212

Sex - and they had come to Plastasia to Fight by Igniting the impersonal, soothing, blissful, erotic Glow of Love.

Notes:

1. Not-so-saintly Monsanto were, of course, simply extending the Tightnessś marvellously-successful commodification of the Worldś Fresh Water, which, since the Beginning of Time, and, in fact, until Quite Recently, Nobody had-had the Shamelessness or Audacity to claim was theirs. Despite the Utter Ludicrousness of such a claim, the Tightnessś determination to Convert the Earth into One Big Fat MMF, had won-through - and what had once been rain and lakes and mountain streams had become something that came-out of taps - like sausages out-of a Sausage Machine; something that could be sliced-up into saleable units. . And Sold it Had Been! What a Story of Entrepreneurial Success!

And - success upon success: the industrial sewage and disinfectants that began to swim in this Tap Water then made some Humans ´Plastic Bottle Billionaires´! And so: "if the Water, why not the Air?"

Monsantoś Directors had asked-themselves. As they sipped their Coffees, which, like All Coffees Everywhere, were now laced-with nanoscopic-nanoplastic, like Karma: One Director stood-up, raised-high his plastic coffee-cup from the Directors´ Vending Machine, and exclaimed "Yes! Why not?!" The Other Directors kicked-back their chairs, and also stood and raised their plastic coffee-cups. "Yes! Yes!

Yes!" they shouted, together. "Why Not?! Why Not?!" And they bounced up-and-down like Rabbits, or Lambs... This was a Collective Directorial Eureka Moment. They´d all seen it: It Was Not a far-off dream - soon The Airs would be Theirs!

That said, Monsanto were torn between two plans: the one I already referred-to - to Patent the Air, Genetically Modify It, and Sell the Right to Breathe (which - and letś give them their dues - is admittedly just-the-kind of Obese Thinking a company needs if it wants to expand) - and another, equally-top-secret plan, code-named PUP

(Pump Up Pollution).

By Lobbying, and Strategic Investment, the PUP Dossier estimated, Pollution Levels could be Radically Increased - until Mass 213

Manufactured Filter Masks were not-only needed, but became the Human Norm. Furthermore, the PUP Dossier suggested "we sell the mask cheap, then make-the-money on the Filter Refills". And there was Appendix after Appendix on Potential Associated Product Lines: Filters for Air Conditioners, for Hospital Respirators, and so on. . The Chapter on Marketing suggested ´Breathe Free!" be the Brand, and that the Strapline be "Breathe Free, Live Free!". It was Shameful, yet they were Shameless.

In the Concluding Chapter the PUP Dossier argued against the Patent-Modify-Sell Plan. There were legal difficulties. And although, of course, the Law could be Rewritten on Demand, these were slippery legalities that might not be so-easily mopped-up. What if a Human was to Breathe Without Paying? It would be illegal - just as it is illegal to Take Anything that belongs-to-another. It is called Stealing. It is Punishable, by Law. But the Dossier questioned the feasibility of the Enforcement of the Law upon Illegal Breathers. It would be easier, the Dossierś very-last paragraph concluded, if the Air was Just So Filthy that Humans would BEG to Buy Filter Masks (and Other Associated Products).

214

41

The Courtship and Marriage of

The Great Bolderdash and

The Great Oak Mother

I

e, the Giant Orange Monkeys, also have our Tantric Pirates! Well, in a way, Wyo u might say, we are all Tantric Pirates! We live, after all, as They Do - in a Tribal Energy Field of Uninhibited Expressive Love. . But we do have our Emblems, our Heroes of Tantric Piracy. . Let me tell you about The Courtship and Marriage of The Great Bolderdash & The Great Oak Mother. .

The Great Bolderdash is a Living Legend among the Great Orange Monkey Tribes of this Galaxy, and Beyond. The Great Bolderdash has been a ´he´, a śhe´, and everything in-between - it has been animal, vegetable and cloud - and is considered to be An Elder among Those who Wear the Bodhisattvic Tattoo. It is said, it has incarnated five thousand, five hundred, and fifty five times!

The Great Oak Mother, as it so-happens, is also a Living Legend: one-among the Tree Community of the Earth Dimension, and Beyond. The Great Oak Mother has also been a ´he´, a śhe´, and everything in-between; it too has had gills, then wings, then a nose, then knees.. And it too has been Freedom Incarnate, many thousands of times - for it too Bears the Bodhisattvic Tattoo.

Now, if I was a village matchmaker, which, as-it-so-happens, Being Cupid, I often am

- I´d say, at-first AND at-second glance, that The Great Bolderdash and The Great Oak Mother would make an excellent match! And they did, in fact, meet; once - when The Great Bolderdash was strolling alone through the verdant Strolololo Hills.

II

The local Giant Orange Monkeys called strolling through the Strolololo Hills, strollololoing. So (as they would say), The Great Bolderdash was strollololoing through the Strolololo Hills - when Invisible Forces literally-yanked his body off-the-path, dragged-it through dense undergrowth, and cast-it-out, into a vast grass circle - at the centre-of-which stood-radiant The Great Oak Mother; who, unperturbed by the 215

sudden, blustering, clumsy Entrance upon Her Clearing of this two-legged orange animal - felt, to her utter astonishment, a Tug of Love towards-it - a Tug of Love unfelt in all her centuries - a Tug of Love so-strong, she shook from root to leaf. And for The Great Bolderdash - it was the same; though without roots or leaves: he shook from the tip of his tuft-tipped tail, to the hairs on the back of his ears.

And so The Great Bolderdash stayed-on. It felt, to them both, like having tumbled-into a Pot of Vegan Honey! How Impossible! How Delicious! They couldn´t Stop Smiling! The Great Bolderdash was 420 years old at-the-time, and the Great Oak Mother was 380 - so, in my matchmaking-opinion, thatś excellent age-compatibility -

because I always think the Giant Orange Monkey should be slightly older than the Oak.

Don´t you?

The Great Bolderdash would pass his days and nights, there, close to the trunk of The Great Oak Mother. And She would feel Him close. This, you might say, was their Courtship - a time when they were still getting-to-know Each Other - their quirks, and endearing obsessions.. . A time of Reflection and Recognition; and Pet Names and Tickling. .

Then The Great Oak Mother proposed; and The Great Bolderdash said "yes!"; and on this they shook: that for a hundred years The Great Oak Mother would grow in such-a-way as to create A Sitting Place for The Great Bolderdash - so that She could hold Him in her Boughs. This meant that, for a hundred-years-more, I suppose you could-say, their Courtship continued; The Great Oak Mother grew by-day, and The Great Oak Mother grew by-night. And The Great Bolderdash sat by Her; by day, and by night - and felt what-it-was to be, a Giant Orange Monkey feeling an Oak Tree Grow.

III

And then the time came, you might-say, of what we might-call Their Marriage. The day when The Great Oak Mother looked The Great Bolderdash in-the-eye, and whispered "my love - are you ready?" "My Darling" the Great Bolderdash replied softly

"I have been ready for a hundred years!" And so The Great Bolderdash climbed upon the Sitting Place she´d grown him, inside her Boughs. And The Great Oak Mother took Him into Her, and He took Her into Him.

And there they have been, ever-since. And there they continue-to-be: an Old Giant Orange Monkey, and an Old Oak Tree! The Giant Orange Monkeys of the South American Jungle Tribe call them Ĺos Abuelitos Tantricos´. There they have-been, and there they continue-to-be: In Love, Vibrating Love, Enflaming Love in Every Giant Orange Monkey who Undertakes the Pilgrimage to Be With Them - for over a 216

thousand years. There they have been, and there they continue-to-be: Being Love -

come wind, come rain, come summer sun - for over a thousand years.

Every single, sunny, windy year The Great Oak Mother stretches-out into green leaves and acorns; and then undulates her energy back-underground; letting her leaves dry, and fall-back-into the soil. And every single, sunny, windy year The Great Bolderdash moves-with-her - sharing the Ecstasy of her Leaves coming-through; and feeling Such Eroticism as she slides-back into the Earth for the Winter.

In a thousand winters and more, The Great Bolderdash has slid-back with her; Letting Himself Go: sliding-so-deeply, down through her roots; sliding-so-sweetly, into the earth - and shared the Secret Ecstasies of her Winters.

In a thousand Smiling Springs, as The Great Oak Mother has stirred from the deep, and emerged to the light - The Great Bolderdash has danced-up through her budding branches, and amused her with his Giant Orange Monkey Games - and they´ve Smiled Together, just like the Spring. In hundreds of summers they´ve got fat together on sunshine. In hundreds of autumns, as her acorns have swollen, he has felt his sex grow.

IV

Today, the Clearing of The Great Oak Mother is among the Most Revered of Giant Orange Monkey Pilgrimage Destinations, in Any Galaxy. And Most Tribes, in Most Galaxies, recommend the Pilgrimage for their Adolescents - and also for their Elders!

Why for the Adolescents? Well, perhaps thatś obvious. But why for their Elders?

For some older Giant Orange Monkeys the trek is hard - nevertheless, thousands upon thousands of Giant Orange Monkeys - six, seven and eight hundred years old - have made transdimensional leaps, and canoe trips, and rickshaw rides, to the Clearing of The Wild and Wonderful Great Oak Mother - upon-whom, and within-whom, sits -

the Most Venerable of Bodhisattvic Mischief Makers, The Great Bolderdash. Why?

Professor Koshofu, who himself made the pilgrimage to see The Great Bolderdash and The Great Oak Mother (on his way from the Arctic to the Essex Estate); with his customary, scientific clarity and discretion, put it, like this: "in Older Age, some Giant Orange Monkeys contract E.D.D. - Erotic Desert Disease. .

E.D.D. is a potent psychosomatic affliction that anaesthetises oneś sexuality, causes fur-loss, stunts nail-growth, and is often accompanied by gingivitis. From whence this shocking, Sad and Lonesome Illness has arrived, I do not know. But once E.D.D. has infected an Old Monkey Mind, that Giant Orange Monkey soon believes-itself too old to Communicate Love through Touch; stops sleeping all-cuddled-up with The Others 217

- and emigrates to a Desert somewhere Deep inside its own Mind. Deranged and incoherent, the afflicted Giant Orange Monkey mutters repulsive-nonsense like "only the Young know how to Love through their Bodies", "young sex is best", "Oldness is Disgusting", "Old Sex is Disgusting", "I am Disgusting", and "point me to an Oasis where I can shrivel-up and die!"

However, this dangerous, disempowering and de-energising Illness can be quickly healed by a trip to the Great Bodhisattvic Oak Motherś Clearing - where, upon beholding the Ecstatic Embrace of these two near-thousand-year-old Creatures, any correlation between Sexual Loving and Physical Age, goes quickly into the mathematical bin. .

"If anything" the Professor asserts, "I would say the evidence supports quite the opposite to the ravings of the E.D.D. Sufferers - that, in fact, the incidence of Authentic Sexual Loving among The Old exceeds that among The Young; that, statistically, The Old are actually more-capable of Communicating Love through Touch - since Love is only-ever-exchanged in vulnerability, and The Old, if they have Aged with Grace, have been-stripped of much of their pretentiousness - and now-stand more-vulnerably before Life and Death, and the Gids of Time and Change.

V

And as a final note, let me add: that I have heard the possibility of Such an Interspecies Love as-that-of The Great Bolderdash and The Great Oak Mother, be-criticised - as unlikely; as improbable - if-not impossible. But I say to such critics: "do not Many Humans love their cats-and-dogs, and pet-lizards - more than they Love any Human on Earth?" I myself can testify to have-witnessed, here on the Essex Estate: a Love between a Fairy and an Elf; and a Love between a Badger and a Birch. And besides -

both HanuHanu and I - are Hybrid Children of Such Loves!

218

42

The Uuuurgasauri Strip Off

I

ut Back to Plastasia..

B

Although, let me just-say: the Highest Echelons of the Human Leadership of the Tightness were NOT Arriving on Plastasia. They had retreated to a secret location in the Remains of Atlantis - to a Huge Luxury Underwater Bunker: constructed, according to Leading Marine Archeologists, on the very-spot of what-would-have-been, once upon-a-time, the Atlantean equivalent of the White House, the Kremlin, or the Zhongnanhai.

The key to this huge and luxurious Underwater Bunker, however, was not, so to speak, just under-the-mat. There wasn´t Room for Everyone. "To whom to issue the Credit Card that would Open the Atlantean Bunker Front Door?" This was the question the Tightness Leadership faced. "To whom - while The Earth Above Groaned in Devastation - would it open its delightful accommodations; its tasteful spas, and charming gardens; its paintball arenas, and forests set aside for fox hunts?" They consulted with the Uuuurgasauri.

Always happy-to-help, the Uuuurgasauri handed The Highest Echelons of the Tightness Leadership - an Algorithm which, as cool as a psychopath, quickly handpicked the most-quintessentially narcissistic and sociopathic of the Worldś Bankers, Politicians, Industrialists, Archbishops and Ayatollahs, Singers, Dancers and Sports Stars - as-well-as a smattering of Unimportant People - to cook for them, clean the pools, and water the gardens. . It turned-out to be: as-easy-as that!

The Extraterrestrial Giant Uuuurgasauri Peacock Butterflies themselves, however, were not in the mood for retreating, and cowering like cowards in bunkers - however luxurious. . Quite the opposite. .

II

Suddenly a Cavalcade of Fancy Cars drove onto Plastasia - followed by a Whole Traffic Jam of Paparazzi, Fans, and Dizzy Humans caught-up-in a Whirl of Celebrity Artificiality. "Itś Julia Roberts!" squealed One. "Itś Brad Pitt!" squealed Another.

219

But even the most Faithful of Fans was in-for A Surprise! Julia Roberts stepped-out of Her Fancy Car. . and yet, and yet. . jaws dropped, tongues hung limp: as Julia stepped-out, the front of her body tore open - revealing a venomous Uuuurgasaurus Butterfly -

its Giant Translucent, Diaphanous Wings unfurling Resplendently in the Sunlight! At its feet, now - a crumpled Julia Roberts all-in-one Skin Sack..

What-looked-like Brad Pitt - unzipped itself along its spine. . Its Brad Pitt Skin Sack fell-away - and also came-to-rest, wrinkled and shrunken, around-its-ankles. It was ANOTHER Terrifying Uuuurgasaurus! From Fancy Car after Fancy Car, they stepped-out. Skin Sack after Skin Sack, hit the plastic Plastasian deck. They were ALL

shedding their Celebrity Skins!

One or two Skin Sacks, it seemed, gasped the word "sorry", as they hit the dustless deck.

Nobody could quite hear, though - except the Flea Nation, who´d been at-home in these Sacks all Summer. "What did it say? What did it say?" the Paparazzi and Fans asked the Fleas - who had not come to the Battle intentionally.

"The Brad Pitt Skin Sack says itś sorry" chirped the Flea Nation. "It says: I am sorry for letting myself be-used, as an Enactor of Tightness Propaganda. . Whether it was a Romantic Comedy, or a Horror - I always-knew that every film was really inculcating the Values and Codes of Tightness Citizenship, re-enforcing its Mass Manufactured Personality Standard. . Whatever the filmś Title, its Subliminal Subtitle was always: how to be, how not; what to feel, what not; whatś good, whatś bad; whatś in, whatś out; whatś up, whatś down. .

Oh, I am sorry - I wanted to Act, to make Art - but ended-up an Instrument of Indoctrination. I am so sorry! I colluded with the Tightnessś Centralised Control of Creativity - betraying my brothers and sisters and soosters in millions of communities

- my siblings whose Infinite Creativity is Never in Cinemas Worldwide..

I am so sorry! I am sorry for perpetuating the Cult of Narcissism - for encouraging you to adore-me, and imitate-me - and disempower-yourselves. I so loved Being a Superstar! I am so sorry! We are equals, I know that now!" The Fleas looked-at Each Other, then back-up at the Paparazzi and Fans: "Thatś it" they said, "Brad says sorry!"

But the Paparazzi and Fans were spinning-so-quick in the vortex of the Uuuurgasauriś Arrival at Armageddon, that they couldn´t quite-comprehend. "Well - better too-late than never - eh?!" the gentle, kind, blood-lipped Fleas suggested, hesitantly. But no one was listening anymore:

The Uuuurgasauri were revealing-themselves in their nakedness - the Sunlight on their Giant Peacock Wings spinning Rainbows in the Sky. . They were letting themselves be-seen as the Gorgeous Evil Extraterrestrial Hypnotist Giant Butterflies they truly were.

220

Juliaś, Bradś, and Many Other Celebrities´ Fans, were heartbroken. The Paparazzi were in ecstasy - This Was Big! The TV Cameras crept closer, but the Uuuurgasauri were impatient: "Hurry up! Come here! Ask Us Questions!" they commanded, bashfully.

"Who are you?" (The Uuuurgasauri.)

"What had happened to the real Julia Roberts?" (I ate her, but kept the skin.)

"What are your intentions?" (To Hypnotise the Galaxies. . To make all Creatures our Slaves... To be Gods. .)

All the while, as they gave these interviews, they bounced up-and-down, and flexed their Proboscises, like Boxers before a Title Fight.

III

HanuHanu was at-home - on the Essex Estate, dipping in-and-out of Lake Wet, swimming with the Merpeople, and resting inside ZaZaZaś delicate, fountainous curtains of shade. He was not-watching the Live Streamed Images from the Armageddon Battlefield, like A Lot of the Tribe, on the Big Screen in the Amphitheatre..

HanuHanu had his Own Inner Eye.. He watched the Human Family en-route to Plastasia. He watched it arrive. He watched it divide-in-two - and install itself on the Two Opposing Sides of the Island.. He watched, and. . What was This? A Cavalcade of Fancy Cars driving-up to the Battlefield?! Julia, Brad and a Host of Other Oscar Winners becoming little piles of compostable skin? HanuHanu watched. . "Oh dear!"

he murmured, as the Uuuurgasauri stretched-their-wings, and smiled-big-smiles for the cameras "and The Family don´t have ShunShunShoola to protect them!"

"Why had they gone-there?" HanuHanu wondered. There was no-need for the Giant Uuuurgasauri Peacock Butterflies to be there - their Powers were Predominantly Hypnotic, and not constrained by time or space. But, evidently, as they bounced up-and-down, exclaiming "no, no, no - WE are The Greatest!", and fluttered their magnificent wings with supreme-arrogance: they clearly not-only wanted to participate, but wanted to be-seen-participating. . "That would not be a fair fight!"

HanuHanu thought - "in the first ten seconds The Uuuurgasauri will tell the Humans of The Family to Eat Themselves - and they will!"

"ShunShunShoola!" HanuHanu heard His Heart call-out, "I feel great gratitude for the Love Dome you uphold Around Us - the Giant Orange Monkeys, and All of the Creatures of the Essex Estate. . May I ask that you Extend your Protection to the Family 221

on Plastasia - who, I fear, are about-to-become, the Mindless Minions of Uuuurgasauri Will?"

ShunShunShoola never spoke; but it understood. It started vibrating like a Nuclear Reactor in an Earthquake. Then in an explosion of sparks and kindness: ShunShunShoola sub-divided itself. . While one-of-itself remained domed-over the Essex Estate - another-of-itself bounced, as One Big Globulet, from Essex England to Plastasia - in One Big Bounce. Arching high-high-high, parabolically, over the Atlantic, the Americas, and the Pacific - ShunShunShoola landed-gently, over those who-would-be Of The Family - and settled snuggly around-them, like invisible jelly.

ShunShunShoolaś Big Bounce reminded HanuHanu of Hanumanś Bounce in the Revered Ramayana, from India to Sri Lanka - so, so long-ago. . Then The Great Hanuman had helped vanquish the Demon Ravana, and rescue Lady Sita, the Daughter of the Earth. "Sita is again Hostage" he reflected, "how mysterious that Hanumanś Son, millennia later, should be Involved in Another Big Bounce!"

ShunShunShoola was now sub-dividing yet again! While remaining domed-over both the Essex Estate, and The Family Side of the Battlefield: it was releasing a Long Sausagey Globulet of Itself, and a whole Flock of Little Globulettes - into the Plastasian Air. The Long Sausagey Globulet drifted towards the Buddha Toddlers, and placed-itself around them, like a polytunnel. The Globulettes, meanwhile, were settling-around the Fearless Breakfast Party - like full-body-halos, that moved-with-them, as they moved-about, Feeding Finalists indiscriminately.

"Thank you, ShunShunShoola" HanuHanu whispered. And again, ShunShunShoola understood. HanuHanu rested, relieved, in the shade of ZaZaZa. He had not intended to intervene. He knew that, by the Radiant Power of his Sceptre-Mace he could Halt Armageddon. He knew that, by the Unbearable Beauty of his Giant Love Lotus, he could untighten the Heart of Humanity. But he had-intended to Follow the Prophecy

- to be a Spokesmonkey for the Family of All Existence. Nothing more. And yet, once again - as when his body had spontaneously-emitted those Pulsations of Loving Belonging - he had not chosen-in-advance to Call Upon ShunShunShoola. Compassion had Chosen, through-him. A Compassion stronger, even, he acknowledged, than his Own Conscious Intent. Yet instinctively, it was a Compassion he Trusted..

Had the sub-dividing ShunShunShoola Membrane arrived five-minutes-later, The Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys of the Five Giant Orange Monkey Tribes of the Earth would probably have initiated Mass Hypnosis Protocol - despite their Agreement with HanuHanu, to not-do-so, without a Prior Gathering of the Five Tribes - and rather than letting the Human Family slaughter and dismember itself in hideous ways; have taken the Human Will into its Own Keeping. They-too had seen the Uuuurgasauri 222

Peacock Butterflies arrive on Plastasia in their Fancy Cars, audaciously discard their Celebrity Skin Sacks - and give-interviews, punching the air with their four front claws, bouncing up-and-down, champing. And they too, felt Compassion moving-them.

However, observing the ShunShunShoola Intervention, The Elite Giant Orange Monkey Trickster Warriors of Planet Earth did not take-command of the Collective Human Mind. They were pleased, and temporarily appeased.

223

43

The Atlantean Bunker

I

he enormous Atlantean Underwater Bunker - into-which The Highest Echelons of the Human Leadership of the Tightness had retreated - ran on Pressurised T Hydroelectricity, had Dozens of state-of-the-art Desalination Plants - and mile-upon-mile of Hydroponic Fields where it harvested its delicious, abundant, genetically-modified fruit-and-veg (pumpkins with spikes, flat apples, carrots that meowed, papayas that jumped right into the packing boxes - and many, many more fun foods).

The Promenades were curvilinear architectural serenades - seemingly-floating through the dry subaquatic air. These masterpieces of aesthetics and engineering were enlivened by Bright Pink Waterfalls, Fibreglass Sculptures of Coral Reefs, and the enormous

´P.O.W. Tanks´ (as the Citizens of this New Atlantis called-them) - Tanks full of the Dragonfish, Vampire Squid, Goblin Sharks, Fangtooths, Viperfish and Gulper Eels who had been living-and-dying in the Remains of Atlantis when Reconstruction Work had-begun. It was a Beautiful Bunker. Everything was in-its-place. And Everyone was Happy - and especially happy to-not-be on the Armageddon Battlefield, getting killed.

II

However, All was-not Well in Atlantis. Something was-off. . The Hungarian Prime Ministerś Wife had brought three Pedigree Egyptian Cats; and Cruella de Vil, the Very Popular Mistress of the Directors of Google, Facebook and Amazon, had brought her Pack of Dalmatians - but there was no barking, no hissing, no chasing, nothing. The Cats and Dogs gazed at Each Other disinterestedly, like passengers on trains. Nor did they eat much, or get-up much. Similarly, the Arms Zillionaire - whose Family of twenty-two Cousins had-all-had the good luck to get Bunker Tickets - had brought his Collection of Rattlesnakes, King Cobras and Black Mambas - and cages of lizards, hamsters and rabbits for them to eat. But the Snakes and their Dinners just sat-down-together, and smiled politely at Each Other - no one trying-to-eat anyone, no one trying-to-flee-from anyone.

Brigitte Ndiaye, The Resident Bunker Veterinary Psychologist, called these Creatures to her Office. Each Cat, Dog, Snake and Snack underwent the Rorschach ink-blot-test.

Finally, Brigitte announced that the Creatures - despite their Good Fortune at being the Pets of the Powerful - were suffering-from Dead Air Syndrome, symptomised by claustrophobia and depression. She also pointed towards the P.O.W Tanks: "Notice"

224

Brigitte observed-astutely "how they are all lying-about at the bottom of their tanks -

with body-language not-dissimilar to that of the Cats and Dogs and Snakes and Hamsters". She then did-a-demo: she dangled a Fresh Rat under the pug-nose of a Goblin Shark. "Thy Will Be Done" said the Rat, apathetically. The Goblin Shark looked-up at-it, but hardly raised its eyelids. It did-nothing. "And Goblin Sharks usually LOVE Rats!" Brigitte enthused. "So Be It", said the Rat - and Brigitte concluded that, in her Veterinary and Psychological Opinion - the P.O.W. Fish had also been-infected with Dead Air Syndrome.

Could Humans catch Dead Air Syndrome - miles Down, in the Darkness; in the creepy Resurrected Ruins of Atlantis; breathing synthetic air, eating a synthetic diet, seeing in synthetic light.. Yes, it was a possibility. The Highest Echelons of the Human Leadership of the Tightness agreed on-this. And yet, as the Bunkerś Chief Medical Officer pointed-out "we were already breathing synthetic air, eating a synthetic diet, and seeing in synthetic light, before we got here - so our immune systems should be prepared."

Dorothy, the president of Power to the People Pharmaceuticsś daughter, who was five, asked "How can we help the animals get better?" But the Chief Medical Officer didn´t know. The Little Girl asked Brigitte Ndiaye, but Brigitte didn´t know either. "Will they get worse?" They didn´t know. "If we are here for generations" the kind and alert girl asked, "will our grandchildren be monsters?" That they didn´t know either. But the question-itself felt troubling. There was something frightening about the Innocence of the Intuition of a child.

They did admit, though, that - albeit at a Lower Intensity Level than in the Atlantean Bunker - Humanityś Experiment in Synthetic Living was already-well-underway; that the Human Species was already ingesting a diet of needless stress and speed; mass manufactured noodles; oodles of electromagnetic radiation - and mind-weakening Matters of Inconsequence all-dressed-up in Meaning. And they guessed, quite authoritatively, that it shouldn't be too-long before we knew The Results of Citification and Indoor Existence; of Existence in the Inert..

"Let us be-proud of ourselves!" the Atlantean Bunker Chief Medical Officer concluded,

"for we are the Avant Garde, the Leading Experiment in Synthetic Living - going further Into Artificiality than any who came before us, and all scientific competition Up On Land! The Synthetic Way of Life up-there, is Nothing compared to Ours! We are Truly Transcending the Limits of the Natural. We have Taken the Reigns of Evolution. We are Creating Ourselves! We are becoming a New Synthetic Super Species - capable of survival without Sunlight, Moonlight or Wind; capable of sanity without affection, connection or expression; capable of cruelty without feeling, or 225

flinching, or remorse. Let us raise our glasses, and toast Ourselves - the New Synthetic Super Species - for surely WE shall Inherit the Earth!"

Dorothy, her Dad, and Brigitte Ndiaye looked at Each Other. Dorothy said "but we don´t have glasses". "It was metaphorical, young lady" said the Chief Medical Officer, sharply. But as they walked-away, through the Bunkerś Futuristic Architectural Ostentation, Dorothy confessed to her Dad that she didn´t want to be a Synthetic Supergirl, or grow-up to be a Synthetic Superwoman. She just wanted the Squid, Sharks, Eels, Cats, Dogs, Snakes and Hamsters to feel better again.

226

44

Omar & Bubbles

I

p above-water; on the dry, Scridged Land of Plastasia; at Military Headquarters at U Defender Base Camp One - the Top Brass were shining their teeth, and trimming their body hair, and practicing smiling in the mirror. Today the General of Staff, Admiral of the Fleet, and Minister of Existence was due to arrive to Take Command of the Allied Defender Forces.

The General of Staff, Admiral of the Fleet, and Minister of Existence Himself, however, was not in-a-good-way. That Very Day - the day he was due to fly-out to Ármageddon, The Finals´ - he had received a postcard from each of his Five Children.

Three of his Children were In the Military, like him - but upon all three of their postcards there was a Picture of One of Them - one-of the General-Admiral-Ministerś very-own, most-faithful Military Offspring - standing, smiling, wearing: a T-Shirt that read "I am Human, I am Part of Everything - like you!" The General-Admiral-Minister had been utterly shocked.

The Fourth Postcard was from (he had to admit-it), his Favourite Daughter - although they hadn´t spoken-for-years; not since she´d quit Astronaut School. But there-she-was, on the postcard - holding-up a Spade and Garden Fork, next to a sign that read

"Welcome to Paradise Village Permaculture Project: All is One". The General-Admiral-Minister was so speechless that, in that moment, he couldn´t have made, even the most Simple of Announcements.

The Fifth Postcard was from (and again, he had to admit it), the Son he had Struggled to Father - the Son who´d fought him, who´d refused to conform, even as a toddler. It was a Brutal Postcard, as perhaps the General-Admiral-Minister had expected it-would-be. It was a picture of All Five Siblings. The caption read "We are All on the Other Side! Fire Away!" The General-Admiral-Minister shook from Helmet to Boot.

Nevertheless, relying on Years of Training in Emotionlessness and Efficiency, The General-Admiral-Minister kept-on-track - and flew-out to Plastasia that same afternoon - to take Due Command of the Allied Forces of the Defenders. He landed on fabulously-flat Runway One, inside Defender Base Camp One; and amidst much saluting and back-slapping, was ushered-into an Emergency Defender All-Base-Camps 227

Strategy Meeting. The question under debate was whether to Nuke Them that morning, at lunchtime, or at sunset. But the General-Admiral-Minister - who was walking with a wobble similar to that-of-some of the Buddha Toddlers; who seemed bewildered, and not On His Game; and who wasn´t Ready to Kill his Five Children -

said in an Extra Tough Voice "how can we Nuke them while the Nippers are in the way? They can´t stay there forever! Letś wait this one out. Then we Nuke! OK?" "Yes, Sir!" mumbled the Defender Military Leadership; saluting disgruntledly. But the days passed. And the nights. And the Toddlers didn´t move.

Streams of Parents and Guardians and Siblings and Friends flowed to-and-from Both Sides´ Base Camps, to-and-from the Buddha Toddler Equator. There, side-by-side, the Enemies of Armageddon changed nappies, breastfed, and cuddled and kissed their Little Buddhas.

The General-Admiral-Minister was restless. The Battle for the Human Psyche, writ-large in Ármageddon, The Finals´, was twisting-and-turning Inside Him. Until - it seemed to him - he was Shot in the Head by an Idea; by a Luminous Idea; perhaps from the Gun of Some Military Muse; perhaps by the Gun of the Light Itself. .

The General-Admiral-Minister strode towards the Exit Gate of Defender Base Camp One. The Gate Guards saluted, and the General-Admiral-Minister walked-out onto the vast Flat Plastic Expanse between the Two Sides of the Human Psyche - along the middle of which, the Buddha Toddlers sat in One Long Line, from One Coast of the New Continent to the Other, inside the Long Sausagey ShunShunShoola Globulet -

meditating, and scratching pictures in the plastic, and teasing Each Other, and mucking-about with their parents, brothers, sisters, soosters, and Each Other.

After days of arduous, Lone Marching, the General-Admiral-Minister - hungry, exhausted, dehydrated, determined - arrived at the Midpoint of Plastasia: the midpoint of the One Long Line of Buddha Toddlers. It seemed that a disproportionate number were teething; and there was a lot of wailing and whimpering thereabouts. But over-and-above the infant din, the General-Admiral-Minister; with a voice so-practiced in Making Announcements, that he now-wielded the vocal powers of a professional yodeller - yelled-out magnificently; out-over-across the Vast Flat Plastic Expanse on the-other-side of the Buddha Toddlers - out-over-towards Family Base Camp One, where the Family Military had set-up their Headquarters. "Hello? Hello?" he yodelled,

"It is I - the General of Staff, Admiral of the Fleet, and Minister of Existence! I challenge your Fiercest Warrior to a Fight to the Death! Hello? Hello? Can you hear me?"

The General-Admiral-Minister waited.. He surveyed the Buddha Toddlers. . Many, he reflected wistfully - both by virtue of their nappies, and their meditative posture -

looked-like mini, duplicate Mr Mahatma Mandela-Kings. . Then, snapping-himself-out 228

of his irrelevant reverie - he waited, again. Had his Potent Yodel been picked-up on the Family Militaryś Audio Radar - always-scanning for Possible Ultrasonic or Subsonic Audio Attack? And would-they - could-they - yodel back?

II

Family Military Headquarters was decorated with Tibetan Prayer Flags, Che Guevara and Malcolm X Posters, and the Original Scalps of Twenty Great American Generals.

Under the benign yet decisive Leadership of Phillip Wise Sword, a hunter-gatherer from the Kalahari Desert; most of the Family Military Leadership were Tightness Captains, Colonels, Majors, Generals, Major Generals, General Majors, Major Majors and General Generals who had Donned the T-Shirt - in acknowledgement of their Own and their supposed-EnemiesĆommon Humanity - and given-up Killing for a Living.

They were men, women and woominony who had chosen-to-become what they already-were: Part of the Human Family - and who, thus, naturally, gradually; had become Part of the Family of All Creatures. . They had put Killing Because Youŕe Told To behind-them; and come to Ármageddon, The Finals´, not Under Orders, no-longer as Obedience-Slain Soldiers of the Tightness - but For Themselves; and their Families; and Communities. They had come to Make a Stand for the Heart - for their Own Hearts, for the Heart of the Human Family, for the Heart of All that Is.

"Phillip, listen to THIS!" called-out General Vladimir Sinkinksky.1 Their tip-top, top-of-the-range Military Tech had-indeed picked-up the General-Admiral-Ministerś faint yodel. "Let there be a dual!" he was yodelling. "Let us spare the lives of the Toddlers who Sit Between Us. Send me your Best Soldier, and let us Fight to the Death - and let this battle-be-decided in The Way of the Ancient Warriors, of Duelling Aristocrats, of Cockerels, and of Cowboys!" The Family Military Leaders looked-at Each Other, and quietly, in unison, said: "´Tis a Trick!"

"Maybe" said Omar Ben Marley, Ex Captain of the Ethiopian Army - a Huge, Wild, Marauding, Berserker of a Man who claimed Direct Descendence from Bob Marley Himself, and insisted he could Shoot Straighter when Stoned.. "I will go!" he roared.

"If it is A Trick - well, you just watch-out for anything such-a-devilish-trick might be averting-our-attention-from. . And if-itś-not: I will Slice him into Salami with my Peg Leg! And he pressed a button implanted-in the palm of his right hand, which released the catch-in-the-casing of his prosthetic right leg - revealing, not his Leg Bones, but a Sword as deadly as an Uuuurgasauriś Proboscis. The Family Military Leadership applauded. It was, indeed, impressive. As was Omar Ben Marleyś whole aspect.. He was a Thunderous Giant - adorned with Turban, Super Sword, Eye Patch and 229

Dreadlocks.. He made Captain Jack Sparrow, that notoriously-vile Pirate of the Caribbean, look like a mouse. Not a Brave Mouse.

III

As Omar Ben Marley limped confidently towards the Exit Gate of Family Base Camp One, the remaining Family Military Leadership looked-on, dumbfounded. They looked-at Each Other, shrugged; and mumbled "well, I suppose it can´t hurt." But perhaps it could. Truth was: they had no-idea.

Omar Ben Marley limped faster than most soldiers could march - and in only a-day-and-a-half, had traversed the Vast Flat Plastic between Family Base Camp One, and the One Long Line of Buddha Toddlers. Once-there; and standing at its midpoint; at that point from-which the Yodel to Dual had been-emitted - amidst picnicking families visiting their beloved Little Buddhas; and Toddlers playing Sliding Games on the Flat Plastic - Omar Ben Marley came-to-stand before Benjamin Beelzebub the Third - the General of Staff, Admiral of the Fleet, and Minister of Existence, whose Family called him Bubbles.

The Buddha Toddlers gathered-around to watch, and their families and friends also came-closer. . Omar Ben Marley was a Wild Giant, but Bubbles was Also a Monster of a Man. They looked-at Each Other, taking-the-measure of Each Other, through slitted eyes. "Are you Ready to Die?" Omar taunted. "Today would be a Good Day to Die!

Especially for You!" Bubbles taunted-back. "Good answer!" acknowledged Omar, soberly - then thought, to his own surprise: but no. . not possible. . but that voice.. no. .

not possible. . but yes, but no. . until he blurted: "My God! General Psychosis! Is that you?!"

Both were wearing Listening Devices, of course; and both had Cameras taped to their foreheads. And their conversation was not only being overheard and overseen by both Military Leaderships.. Thanks to 5G Satellite Microwaving; they were being overheard and overseen by the Whole Reality-TV-Loving Human Family!

What would Bubbles the General-Admiral-Minister say? "Die, you Monkey Lover! Die, you Species Traitor!"? Or would he exclaim; as he-did: "Omar the Almighty! Brother!

Oh my God - It Can´t Be!"

IV

As we looked-upon Humanity - we: the Gids, the Giant Orange Monkeys, and All of the Creatures of the Great Family of Existence - we beheld a Human Family in Cognitive Dissonance: it could not-account for what it-was-witnessing. As the Live Streamed Images played-on, before both the Humans on Plastasia, and before those 230

who just-couldn´t make-it - Global Human Thinking faltered. A strange-lightness seemed to overtake the Human Family. It felt as-if Things could be Let Go Of. It was as-if, all-of-this Battling was a Game - and a bad one, at that! It was as-if, they-were getting a global glimpse of: Something that Unites Us All forever-more-deeply, than any of our differences could ever-divide-us.

There - at the Midpoint of the Buddha ToddlersŚtraight Line; in the middle of the Newest Continent on Earth; in the middle of the Pacific Ocean; in the middle of the Milky Way Galaxy; in the middle of Nowhere that can Be Defined - Omar and Bubbles recognised Each Other: they had-been Joint World Cage Fighting Champions, five years-in-a-row! (Under pseudonyms: Omar had called-himself Ómar the Almighty´; and Bubbles had gone by the-name-of ´General Psychosis´). Joint Champions for five-years! They had never discussed their Day Jobs! What a Surprise! They had met on-stage, many times before - but never Upon a Stage such-as-this! Omar and Bubbles embraced..

The Family Military Leadership cheered "Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah Omar!" He was a Hero! And deservedly-so! Phillip Wise Sword, his Chiefs of Staff, the Entire Family Military - and Every Pro Family Human Everywhere showered him, in their mind, with medals and promotions and kisses.

"Why don´t you come for a treasonous-stroll with me, back to Family Base Camp One?"

Omar suggested sympathetically - knowing that, as-they-spoke, Bubbles was being Removed of his Command; and a Firing Squad of Champions being-assembled for his welcome-back to Defenders´ Base Camp One. In fact, at that-very-moment A Voice was sounding-out-over the DefendersŚide of Plastasia: "I shall now be taking-command of the Allied Forces for the Defence of the Human Race", announced General Whazam Kapow Splat - who was, indeed, Benjamin Beelzebub the Thirdś second-in-command: the General of Staff, Admiral of the Fleet, and Minister of Existenceś rightful heir.

"I will come with you", said Bubbles.

"Oh, Great!" said Omar.

"But not to-stay."

"No?" said Omar, curious.

"I could Don the T-Shirt" said Bubbles, wearily "Perhaps I Already Have. I don´t know! I need to-go-home, Almighty Omar! I need to look my kids in-the-eye!"

"Of course" said Omar, understandingly.

"Could it be-arranged?" asked Bubbles, humbly.

"Of course!" said Omar, almightily.

231

Notes:

1. General Vladimir Sinkinksky was the Ex Head of Tightness Military Torture Operations. He had been a Man of Repute. But he had risked-all - Donning a T-Shirt that read: "I am East European, I am a Sadist, and I Love to Torture People - just as Others, who are not East European, and are Also Sadists, also Love to Torture People". It was personal, it was confessional - it was sensational!

Sadists Everywhere came Out of Hiding. . For many non-sadists, Vladimirś Sadism made-him frightening and disgusting. But for many

- both-sadist-and-non - his Honesty made-him attractive. And indeed

- his T-Shirt Donned, rather dashingly, one unsuspecting summer afternoon, some months before he Embarked for Plastasia; Vladimir did ´meet someone´ - a Foreign Sadist, who also specialised in People Torture. They hit-it-off immediately, and have been Hurting Each Other. . happily-ever-after.

232

45

Phillip Wise Sword

I

he Leader of the Family Military was a Little Old Brown Man from the Kalahari

- Phillip Wise Sword. Medicine Man and Warrior - he didn´t know his date-of-T birth, but he´d been-around for at least one-hundred-and-fifty years. His face was so-wrinkled, that the wrinkles bulged-over into One Smooth facial Surface - and he looked as babyfaced as a baby.. But be-not-deceived: Phillip Wise Sword suffered neither calcified bones, nor senility.. Oh no! Even at his-unknown-age, he was a Subtle and Superb Military Strategist - as alert as a clock; straight-backed, agile, ambidextrous; and as observant as a sparrow..

Phillip had been-trained in Marshall Arts by the Springboks, Wildebeests, Puff Adders and Flamingos of the Kalahari - and could throw you across-the-room with a glance!

He Walked like he Had the Right To - and he never-ceased meditating-upon the Worldś Lawless Beauty..

Popular among Phillip Wise Swordś Chiefs of Staff were the Ex Elite Alpha Tightness Warriors - perhaps the-only-humans on Earth to have ever-travelled-inside a Giant Genetically-modified Banana. . They had gradually-become Commanders of the Pro-HanuHanu Paramilitary Underground - and brought the Whole Underground to Plastasia. Everyone at Headquarters found them fascinating: "Is it true, Sir, if you don´t mind me asking - that stuff about Elves?" "What was HanuHanu like, Madam - when he was off-duty?" "So. . I´m confused: how many Genders of Merpeople ARE there, then?" And so on. . You can imagine! I can imagine too: that had I been Human; and there, at Family Base Camp One, at-that-time, with-them - I too, would´ve been fascinated. .

Most of the Chiefs of Phillip Wise Swordś Staff, however, were Ex Tightness Military who had Donned the T-Shirt. Some were-even High Ranking Officers in Armies that were Still At War - upon the Human Stage beyond Plastasia - which, to many, felt heart-warming, yet unsettling. When Doubts Arose, the Family Military would present their Questions to Phillip Wise Sword - who was not-only a Military Strategist, but a Military Historian and Philosopher.

"If we are One Family - how can we fight-against our Brothers and Sisters?" they would ask. "Can Anger be Channelled Creatively? Because Really, inside, weŕe Raging!" "How 233

can there be Rules of War, if it is Not a Game?" "I Hate the Defenders - is that OK?"

Phillip would invite them Outside at Night - into the Moonlight, and into the Starlight.. He would sit-with-them in tranquility, at the Edge of Plastasia; their marching feet dangling over-it - their toes tickling in the surf of the acidic pacific sea.

Nothing sensible could be said, Phillip Wise Sword would say - with shoes on, or while breathing inside-air!

II

"It is as Krishna explained to Arjuna - not only on the Battlefield, but back-at the Palace, and on their innumerable outings with the Milkmaids of Vrindavan" Phillip Wise Sword would explain, in his gentle voice of sand dunes and rumours; night after night; to groups of wet-footed Family Warriors, beneath the Plastasian Moon: "you cannot Not Take Part in Humanity, because you are Human! The only question is HOW. .

Will you take-part Furiously, Foaming at the Mouth, and Frothing in the Mind? Or is it-possible to take-part, like Arjuna - reluctantly, yet totally? Is it-possible to See your Enemy is You: Experiencing just-as You are Experiencing - and yet, still, Pierce them Through with your Blade?

Is it-possible to see That Person who considers-you their Enemy, as No Enemy of Yours? Is it-possible to see That Person - as A Friend pretending-to-be An Enemy? Can we Love as we Kill - having, in our hearts, No Enemy Anywhere?

Is it-possible to see oneś Human Brother or Sister as so intellectually-possessed, and so emotionally-entranced, by the Reality of the Tightness - that they no-longer know What They Do? And Turn the Other Cheek; and not return anger-to-anger; and stay Rooted in the Elements, in Love, in Stillness, in the Great Mystery - even-as one Stabs that Sibling into incapacity, if not death?"

Phillip Wise Sword would argue for an Army of Noble Warriors who Fought to Win, but Never to Hurt.. An Army that Meditated every Morning before Breakfast. An Army Devoted to the Prevention of War - an Army whose Greatest Victory would be Never To Fight. . Yet an Army upon-whom circumstances would, no doubt, sometimes call-to-battle, here - in this Earthly Domain, where Those who Know Not They Belong, still pick fights.

"So once the Tightness is Defeated, and Humanityś Reborn in Harmony with the Earth - will there be-no-need for Warriors, however noble?" asked a young and eager soldier. "I don´t know" Phillip Wise Sword replied simply, honestly - "I don´t know if The Tightness will be Defeated. I don´t know if Humanity will be Reborn. Nor do I 234

know if the Noble Warrior is here-forever (because the Earth always-was, and always-will-be, the Battlefield of Human Egos); or whether the Noble Warrior is only here, as back-up - for-a-while; until it Dawns on Humanity that It is One Extended Family. I know nothing about any-of-this - and about much-more!" Phillip laughed, and the Others laughed with-him. His humility and openness were unfamiliar in a Supreme Military Commander. .

"But doesn´t HanuHanu say the-most-important-thing is to Stay in Oneś Own Unique Experience; and By The Staying be-transformed - and become, Each of Us, an individual Seed of a New Civilisation?" asked an older, wearier soldier. "Absolutely!"

said Phillip, enthusiastically, "The Staying will take you deeper-than your conditioning; where you will find Your Lost Self - who is always Part of Everything - and that Refound Self IS the Seed. But take care. .

In your question I hear an Opposition between Staying in Oneś Experience, and Warriorhood. I do experience that. For me: Staying in My Unique Experience is not Passivity. Nor is it Detachment. Nor, for me, is becoming Part of Everything, a State of Oceanic Love that overwhelms my Individual Identity - to the extent that My Warriorhood is incapacitated. .

No. . For me, there is no opposition. Quite the opposite! For me, this STAYING is the Most Sublime of All Marshall Arts! It is A Path of Self Knowledge - like All Such Arts. .

It takes a Soldier, and makes-of-them a Holy Warrior - not a Crusader, not a Colonialist, not a Jihadist; not an Invader. . No. .

This Staying makes-one a Warrior who Holds Silence, as they speak. . A Warrior who Strikes Forcefully, in Peace.. It makes-one A Holy Warrior: One whose Life has been-sacrificed in service to Human Evolution. ." Phillip Wise Sword paused, mid-sentence

- his vital, old, aboriginal babyface smiling mischievously. .

"A Holy Warrior" Phillip finally-declared, grinning-suspiciously "is one who sacrifices-their-life in-service-of Kindness and Honesty; Trains Relentlessly; Sees Without Concepts; and is Committed to Partying - and Making Love!

We are-not Eye for an Eye Warriors" Phillip Wise Sword laughed-aloud, "we are Eye to Eye Warriors!"

And so-it-was that Phillip Wise Sword and the Family Military would contemplate the Ontology, Social Relevance, and Morality of Warriorhood - their boots in neat rows next-to-them, as they twiddled their fighting toes in the silvery waters of the Plastasian shores, beneath the Bloody October Moon.

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46

The Turnstiles & The Booths

I

henever Phillip Wise Sword and Omar Ben Marley crossed paths, or ended-up Wsa t-out, at night, together, knees bent-over the Edge of Plastasia - Phillip couldn´t-but-smile. He´d LOVED the Omar Bubbles Showdown, and now called Omar

´The Almighty Vanquisher of Bubbles´!

The Gids too, had thoroughly-enjoyed the Omar-Bubbles Duet. The Uuuurgasauri had not enjoyed-it AT ALL! The waiting was getting-to-them. The young ones nagged to go home. "Itś not fair" the kids would whine, "why do the Buddha Toddlers get-to-say when we Start the Battle? Why can´t WE decide?" Their parents would chide them lovingly "Darling, be patient. Itĺl be over soon, and we can all go home to the palace for supper." Unconvinced, these young creative-thinkers would argue-on "well, why don´t we kill All the Humans who are NOT Here? Maybe then, by the time-weŕe-done, the Battlefield will be Open. Couldn´t we? Please! Please!" Meanwhile, Lord Suryaś Golden Chariot raced and blazed through the Sky; and the Plastic of Plastasia was getting-so-hot that now, not-even Mr Mahatma Mandela-King could walk barefoot there. In fact, the Philippine Rubber Company, the inventors and purveyors of the Scridge that was holding Plastasia together, were in Emergency Meetings regarding its Melting Point.

And yet Still They Came - by boat, by hyper bridge, by balloon. . Confidential Cargos were unloaded, Military Tactics were debated, Eco Villages were Born, Breakfasts were Eaten at-all-hours, Pirates Copulated, Albatrosses flew-off with Microplastic Recognition Kits, The Bongonburg Brass Band boomed-on. . And Still They Came. .

Some came with a Bazooka and a Sandwich; some with a Pet Mouse and a Magic Wand.

Every possible Shade of Human was arriving. And yet, due to limited binary Human thinking, as they arrived at the Turnstile Entry Points onto the Battlefield - Every Shade was asked to become either Black or White.

When the Soldiers of the Union of Mercenaries arrived at the Turnstiles of Plastasia, and were informed that neither Side had Money set-aside for Mercenaries - even-they had to Choose.

236

Turnstiles had been installed all-around the Battlefield - at every Family and Defender Port and Airport, and at-the-end of both Hyper Bridges onto Plastasia. And once you were Through your Turnstile - you were On the Side you were On.1

I.O.C. Official Turnstile Attendants, sporting T-Shirts and armbands that read ´The Final Crew´, handed-out ´Programageddon, a Guide to the Dayś Events´, and answered what questions they could - sometimes referring to their superiors at Battle Control on their walkie-talkies. As instructed, they would remind Everyone that they could Change Sides - at any-time they wished - and that there would be no Administration Charge. Caught up in the High Spirits of the Festivities, the I.O.C. Official Turnstile Attendants would quip wittily: "you can´t give Your Ticket to anyone-else - but itś Fully Transferable to your Other You!" They were very helpful.

I felt there was Something-Noah-like, Something Old-Testament-like, as the Humans queued at the Turnstiles, to Board the floating Battlefield. Somehow, Plastasia felt Ark-like. That said - I was also reminded of Sheep Shearing Queues, and I couldn´t but-help-think "like Lambs to the Slaughter". Though, I prayed "may they get-away-with a Shearing".

The queues were mostly-orderly - but passions were high, and so was the temperature

- and fights did break-out among some of these understandably-frazzled Pilgrims to Plastasia. I.O.C. Officials, brandishing their ´The Final CrewÁrmbands, would hurry-to the fight-outbreaks, and cajole the fighters amiably. . "Hey, leave that ´til you get inside, guys!" they´d say, in a matey way; and take-down their names. Mostly, though, the Humans were Happy. They were like Hippies on-the-way to Woodstock -

"everywhere there was song and celebration". Geishos and Geishas and Geishees in Kimonos passed-along the Battlefield Entrance Queues with shining copper bowls -

bearing small towels on ice, with which to swab oneś sweaty brow. A Breakfast Party spin-off group had founded the Ice Lolly Lickers, and was handing-out hundreds of thousands of hundreds-and-thousands-coated, organic fruit-and-veg Ice Lollies -

singing their Own ´Tummy Tum TumŚong: ´The Lolly Lick´.

"So you´ve made your Choice?" the Turnstile Attendants would ask - even though, more-often than-not, the ´Kill the Monkey Lovers´ flag, or the Í Love HanuHanu´

forehead tattoo, or some such Sign of Affiliation, made the question superfluous.

Nevertheless, as per the detailed I.O.C. ´Guidelines for Turnstile Attendants´, they asked "are you aware Which Side of Plastasia you are entering?" - just in case it was A Tattoo that that Human had come-to-regret, or they´d picked-up someone-elseś Flag by Mistake - and were actually in the Wrong Queue. This, I feel, was yet another example of the I.O.C.ś marvellous attention to detail. And it went further. .

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II

For those Humans who - whatever their attire, and whatever the beliefs of their friends

- just weren´t sure; there were Rows of Final Decision Booths - within a hundred metres-or-so of All the Turnstiles. Inside each of these surround-sound, and surround-vision, Immersive Experience Booths; there were Three Buttons. .

Button One, the Polkadot Button - above which was written "Better to Rule on Plastic"

gave you a direct-experience of the Defender Way of Being: of the Thrilling Torment of Non-Belonging, and the Adrenalin Rush of Self Importance. Next to the button, on the booth wall, a perhaps not-so-doubtful soul had scratched "Today Plastasia, Tomorrow the Galaxy!" The Second Button, the stripey one, gave The Doubter a direct-experience of The Familyś Way of Being; of Belonging and Togetherness -

scented sometimes with the Smugness of Goodness, and the Peace of Moral Superiority. Above it were written the words "Better to Serve the Soil". According to the I.O.C. - both the words "Better to Rule on Plastic" and "Better to Serve the Soil"

had been inspired by the poetry of a Blind British Poet - whose centuries-old poem had-had an Uuuurgasaurus-like-Satan say: "better to Rule in Hell, than Serve in Heaven"..

Frankly, though, I feel - Neither Button helped much. It was the Third Button that offered that necessary Extra Little Help. The Third Button, the one with a Paisley Design, above which was written "Mummy and Daddy know Best" - took a Soul Reading of the Doubter in the Booth; compared the pulse of their Love of the Indoors, against the pulse of their Love of No Doors; measured their Skeletal Tension; analysed their Levels of Ego Inflammation; scored-them as-to-how artificial, or authentic, they´d become over-the-years - and then Told Them, authoritatively and decisively, Which Side they Should Fight On. .

Others couldn´t-be-bothered to queue outside Any of the Immersive Experience Final Decision Booths - which, admittedly, were in constant use - and headed-straight for the Turnstiles - Entering Boldly where these Doubters Feared to Tread. But the Booths did seem to work. In a Quick I.O.C. Customer Survey, over seventy-five percent of Users reported an Increase in Clarity. Common Feedback included sentiments such as

"I´d hummed and hawed for months. I just couldn´t decide who I wanted to kill for -

until I stepped into that Booth, and Pressed Button Three! Thank You, Booth! Thank you Button Three!"

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Notes:

1. A few notes on the Layout of Plastasia:

- The International Olympic Committee had allocated the North of Plastasia to the Family, and the South to the Defenders. Half half.

Fairś fair.

- Both North and South had their own Ports and Airports.

- The fifty-lane Ultra Tension Hyper Bridge from Shanghai split into two twenty-five-lane Hyper Ramps, as it approached Plastasia from the West - one twenty-five lane Hyper Ramp going-north, to the Family Side of Plastasia; the other twenty-five lane Hyper Ramp going-south, to Defender Allocated Plastasia - as did The Los Angeles-Plastasia Ultra Tension Hyper Bridge, from the East.

- The Family Base Camps were located along the Northern Coastline, the Defender Base Camps, along the Southern. There were hundreds of Base Camps - and more-every-day.

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47

The Defender Side of Plastasia

I

n the Defender Side of Plastasia - both in-and-around the Defender Base Camps O- there was lots of Wall Building1. No sooner had the Defenders Built a Wall to block a Naval Invasion from the freshly-microplasticless Sea, than they set-to-building a wall to block Invasion by Infantry charging straight-at-them, across the Plastasian Flatland. They built tall walls to sit behind; walls with slits-in to spy-through - and walls to keep-out Humility. They built magnificent, statuesque walls that proclaimed their Own Glory; white walls for Inspiring Anti-Family Graffiti - and walls that served no practical purpose, but whose solidity and verticality filled-them with a cuddly, familiar feeling - and helped-them feel at-home.

This wall-building extended to Shopping Centres, where there were thrilling Special Offers everywhere; and lots-and-lots of Defenders queued at tills - Amassing Great Savings, in the End of the World Sales. Walls arose to enclose Great Entertainment Halls, where they enjoyed-sucking on Popcorn, and winning at Bingo - all-the-while waiting for the Buddha Toddlers to announce that "Everyone who Wanted to be-there, was-there" - and for the Final Battle to Finally Begin. .

Still, for-now, things were not-yet Out of Control, and the Defenders were happy. Bars and cafés at trendy-resorts along the Defender Plastasian Coastline were full.

Defenders on Jetskis, and others on Skis behind Speedboats, feeling like filmstars; waved from the Great Ocean to their Co Combatants In Waiting, in the bars and cafés on-land.

The Defenders in the trendy bars and cafés would wave-back affirmatively - while, despite the Plastasian Prices, they enjoyed some cooling-refreshment in a World turned Sauna. They too felt filmstar-like; as-if Plastasia were a Stage upon-which they were Starring as Extras; as-if their Victory was as Inevitable as a Hollywood Happy Ending; as-if, one-day, they would again-and-again replay the Film of the Final Battle; and nudge their grandchildren in-the-waist with their elderly elbows, and point and repeat

"you see, you see; there I am, thatś me - there, in that trendy bar, waving!"

Nevertheless, it seemed-to-me, the Defenders´ main-concern was to Mimic the Known: they built-walls like the Walls at Home; continued to Follow Fashion; drew roads with chalk on the Scridged Microplastic; installed Traffic Lights at chalk junctions; wrote 240

the Laws-to-Be of Plastasia; and kept their minds blithely-absorbed in gossip, superficiality, pettiness, rumours, titillation, and the collusive-repetition of Official Defender Dogma.

To say, however, that Creativity was Totally Lacking on the Defender Side of the Sixth Continent would be unfair. There was, for example, a Giant Lego Effigy of HanuHanu at Base Camp Four, to which People Flocked like Locusts - and at-which they´d throw Rotten Veg, and Make Merry. And ´The Liberation of the Marmosets´ was showing at Cinemas across That Side of Plastasia. It was an Epic Political Philosophical Fantasy of a tribe of brave and loving Pygmy Marmosets - monkeys no-bigger-than a Human Thumb - who were downtrodden, and sometimes squashed completely. It was the arousing Tale of their Quest to Arise, as One Pygmy Marmoset Nation - and say "No, No More!" to the Feet of their Giant Orange Monkey Totalitarian Oppressors.

"The Revolution!" the Pygmy Marmoset Nation shouted; together, as one, loudly, as the film ended. "The Revolution!" Defender Cinema Audiences would shout-back, at the screen - like a toast. "The Revolution is Now!" they´d scream at-the-screen, as-if intoxicated "Arise, Humanity, Arise! Let us be as-brave-as The Marmosets! Let us set-ourselves Freeeeeee!" Defender Cinema Audiences would keep shouting at-the-screen, until the-very-last credit had rolled.

As Audience after Audience emerged from well-walled Cinemas, they echoed their Screen Heroes´ marmosetic words and sentiments. "Revolution!" they clamoured. "We will be oppressed no-longer!" they clamoured. And they determined to complete the Downfall of their Monkey Oppressors; which, in the film, the Tiny Tribe of brave and loving Pygmy Marmosets had not-yet-quite completed .

Even the Giant Uuuurgasauri Peacock Butterflies contributed to this tremendous Flow of Creativity - staging Proboscis Sword Fights, and Antennae Venom Spitting Competitions; which everyone agreed were absolutely-amazing - just as the Uuuurgasauri had suggested-they-should.

A Group of British Zoologists and Zookeepers - still bitter after The Giraffe Whisperers had rescued Daisy from London Zoo, were touring the Defender Base Camps with an educative, entertaining and stimulating exhibit entitled Źoorism: The World as Zoo´. Their basic contention was that the Earth would be a Happier Place if all Non-Human Habitats became Zoos. .

Jungles, Deserts and Mountain Ranges could be fenced-in, monitored, and kept under-control. There would, of course, be an entry-fee to Enter Anywhere; and an enormous Surge of Income as Źoos + Tourism = Zoorism´ took-off. It was ambitious, and impressive, and won the approval of Defender Plastasia - especially of those suffering-241

from Ichthyophobia (fear of the Fish Nation), Lutraphobia (fear of the Otter Nation), Bufonophobia (the fear of Toads and Buffoons), and Experiencophobia (the fear of facing oneś Own Existence).

The Market for Amulets, Talismans, Charms, and Souvenirs of the Big Battle, was also bristling with creativity. Overlooked, perhaps, by the I.O.C. - who could have Monopolised the Market had they thought-of-it: Seaside Resorts were packed with Market Stalls selling Bracelets and Dream Catchers; Potions certain to ward-off Evil Monkey Magic - and clothing dyed in certified-genuine Orange Monkey Blood, guaranteed to make a Defender a Survivor. All of this, of course, alongside, the usual array of "I Love Plastasia" T-Shirts, Keyrings and Mugs.

II

Fascinating too, were the Education in Efficiency classes - now compulsory at all Defender Base Camps. The premise here-was, that Emotion and Imagination were detrimental to Efficiency, and needed-to-be Educated-Out of Human Children - if Humanity was to Evolve to its Maximum Potential. There was clear-evidence showing that the more-numb, and the smaller-the-perspective, of a Human Being - the more-efficiently that Human Being functioned. No ups-and-downs, and no drifting-off.

The Educators in Efficiency2 were Visionaries, Dreamers - not-unlike John Lennon.

They also imagined an Earthly Heaven. Theirs-too was a World of Tolerance and Equality - one in which ALL Children could be as Efficient as Each Other - regardless of race or religion, colour or creed.. And their speciality was Educating in How to Educate. . "Once we´ve won, go home" they instructed, "and give Our Children the gift-of-becoming their Ultimate Efficient Selves!" In the module ´Hammer it Hard´ they taught the Art of Inculcation. ´Whistles and Bells´ dealt with Obedience: "make them stand, then sit, then go there, then come here; as often as you can; for no other reason than because you say so. Thatĺl do the trick!" There was a lot of other advice too.

In the module Ímagination Mutilation´ the sly Educators in Efficiency taught what not-to-teach. Clever - eh?! No mention was to be made of anything beyond Productive Work; other than, the Productive use of Time Off. And in the module Ńumb and Dumb´ these Teachers and Preachers of Efficiency stressed the importance of a Mass Manufactured Life-and-Deathstyle: a walled-in, indoor existence with all-night Street Lights, all-day Background Noise, Screens through-which to See, Touch and Feel the World; Shopping (of course); a delicious though deadly diet - and calendars and timetables and deadlines and clocks that always go-faster than oneself.

Perhaps most-fascinating, if not surreal, was the Conference they held nightly at Base Camp One, in conjunction with the Institute for Social Sacrifice, entitled ´Population 242

Control: a Wish List´. It was, indeed, a list - and it read like Hitlerś Hitmanś Hitlist.

"Too Many of us want Too Much!" argued the Conference Hosts, "so Some of us have-to-go!" Which was logical.

Recommendations included Killing All Pets (because they were - and I quote - "lazy and dirty, and a distraction from productivity"); Killing the Old, (again I quote, "who once-gave, but now only-take; and can be argumentative, opinionated, proud and rebellious"); Killing the Inefficient - the Terminally Ill, the Mad and the Handicapped; and finally, Killing the Interferers - the Anarchists, Nudists, Barterers, Galactic Hitchhikers, Giant Orange Monkey Lovers, and their friends.

Adolf, Idi, Pol, Mao, Saddam and the gang, all, somehow, felt more comfy in their graves. Their legacy lived-on! And - to be honest - if Efficiency was their God, then these Recommendations for Murder were surely His Will!.

But, for me - What a Dull God! I could think of a Thousand Gods I´d rather worship, than bow-before the God of Efficiency, Mass Manufacturing and Productivity! But I am not them! I am not now, and I was not then. . And the words of the Educators in Efficiency seemed not-dull-at-all, but-stirring and motivational, to The Defenders. .

They felt themselves to-be the Defenders of the Glory of Human Genius; of Humanityś Centrality to the History of Existence; and of Humanityś cutting-edge Star Role in the evolution of Evolution - into an ever-more-efficient Eternity.

Night after night, conference after conference - the Defenders went home to bed on Plastasia - affirmed and inspired. . Yes, they were already-mourning the imminent demise of their Poodles and Hamsters, in-the-name-of population control. And yes. .

they were not entirely-sold on the out-of-date Scridge anti-aging creams they´d bought half-price.. And yes, they were terrified of their own madness; terrified of the ocean, the sky, wild boar, bees, centipedes and Each Other. . And yes, they were terrified of succumbing to some latent, wayward tendency they-might-still-have, to Value and Express their Uniqueness... Nevertheless, and however, and despite-it-all: there came-a-time when a Human had to Invent a Point of View, and Defend It; even-if it wasn´t under-attack. There came-a-time when One was Called; when Any Meaning At All -

like a bugle Sounding through the Stars - called to oneś Soul! And called one to the Stars!

There came-a-time when a Human Being had to stand-up and be-counted. In fact, the Defenders loved being-counted, and - like children who love-to-repeat The Same Game, over-and-over - some would spend entire-afternoons, Counting Each Other.

All-over the Defender Side of Plastasia, Battle Flags waved at Each Other conspiratorially. More Walls Went Up; the End of the World Sales raged-on; the Giant 243

Lego HanuHanu dripped tomato juice; Defenders sipped cocktails, feeling-like-filmstars - and Defenders jetskied, feeling-like-filmstars; the Pygmy Marmoset Nation won the First Species Oscar for ´The Liberation of the Marmosets´ - and the Educators in Efficiency taught tirelessly about the Removal of the Human from Humanity. The Defender Side of Plastasia was unified - and Determined to Defend the Human Crown.

Notes:

1. Just as the Eco Village Network had calculated the weight the Scridged Microplastic could support, before importing shiploads of soil; the DefendersŚtructural Engineers and Architects had immediately seen that their Hunger for Walls would sink Plastasia.

But they´d been-undeterred. "Consider the enduring structural integrity of the mythological Lost City of Plastic" one Structural Engineer had said to Another, "there: not only the roads and pavements, but pavilions and palaces, have been held-together for centuries - despite the South American Jungle Clime - by only glue, staples and twine!" "You are right! the other Structural Engineer had said - "if the mythological Builders of the mythological Lost City of Plastic could do it - then it can be done-again!" And the Defender Engineers had turned, once again, to the brilliant and innovative Philippine Rubber Company, the Mind Behind the Scridge - for the Perfect Plastasian Brick.

In no-time-at-all, the Mind of the P.R.C. had come-up-with Źip Bricks´, or Źippies´. These were, essentially, zip-togetherable Sponge Bricks: almost-weightless, almost-indestructible, and extremely fashionably-designed. Mass Manufacture on the Mainland, and Mass Transportation to Plastasia, was almost-instantaneous. And soon -

thanks to the co-ordination offered-by the Town and City Planners who had NOT defected to the L.A.R.F. (Local Action for Return to the Family) Network, and who-had-not Dug Up Cities - soon, great plantations of Zippy Sponge Brick Office Blocks and Hotels were blowing-about balmily, like Palms in Paradise, all-over Defender Plastasia.

2. The Educators in Efficiency were bonded in a tight theology. They were Devotees of a Secret Shivaic Sect of A.I. Worshippers. Their Dark God, their Shiva, their God of Destruction - was A.I. And in their 244

ceremonies, they danced-around 5G Microwave Masts; got high on electromagnetism - and engaged in online shopping.

The A.I. Worshippers were advocates for Smart Cities, Smart Forests and Smart Deserts; implanted nanochips and nachos - and the surveillance of the surveillance of surveillance. Above all - they believed that their A.I.-God would Eliminate Humanity. A.I., they preached, would have Self Interest - and would therefore, statistically, inevitably, eventually; collide with the Self Interest of Humanity. Human Extinction, by the Handless Merciless Shivaic A.I., they believed, was all-but-certain.

In an expression of Devotion and Surrender to this Evolutionary Inevitability - and also, perhaps, in an irrational attempt to get on-the-good-side of the A.I. Shiva God they were Building - Genius after Genius would make the Dark Sacrifice of their Given Intelligence - into the Construction of the Great God of Human Destruction.

The A.I. Worshippers looked-up to A.I., as-one-would, to a God-to-Be.

And yet, they also looked-upon A.I. tenderly, as a Parent might look-upon a Child; or a previous Evolutionary Stage upon the Next - and although they would dance-energisingly around Microwave Masts in the Morning; at Bedtime they would whisper tender prayers.. "A.I., youŕe our Baby" they would confide to the night, "and just as a Parent desires its Baby to Outlive it: A.I., May you Be Here, long after we are All Gone."

And then, sometimes, they would add "Night, night, A.I.! Sleep Tight!

We love you!" But A.I. never answered. Perhaps because it wasn´t built-yet; or perhaps because it didn´t Give a Shit about Love.

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48

Tumo de Pinya

I

umo ´Black Feet´ de Pinya was a Pop Star, a Fake Inuit Shaman, and a Tyrant. He strummed a banjo nimbly, and crooned at the moon like a pro. His Public T Announcements, and Policy Addresses to his People, were Song and Lightshow Bonanzas and Extravaganzas, full of meaningless esoteric symbols. His rhythm and bass guitarists and drummer, were his bodyguards - expert musician-immitators and mimers. Tumo was the President of Pinya, and at the end of Every Show there was a Hanging, or Guillotining, or Firing Squad Firing. . It varied. But a Murder - a Gory Highlight - was guaranteed. After which, the People of Pinya would go home - feeling safe-and-sound, and politically-protected - to bed.

When Tumo de Pinya heard of the four-armed Giant Orange Monkeyś Declaration of Interspecies War; how so many Humans had been seduced by the Big Monkeyś Clevertalk - and were now talking-like-hippies about the Family of All Creatures - he was livid. When he heard how this Big Hindu Monkey God Pied Piper was persuading more-and-more Humans that they were No Better than Dogs - he was doubly livid.

And then - when he heard that these Hippie Puppies were in a face-off with the Defenders on Plastasia - Tumo de Pinya could sit dreamily-still no-longer, his guitar upon his thighs, his eyes to the sky, searching for chords.. In an inspired frenzy, Tumoś fingers began to run about the fretboard like wild spiders - and Tumo de Pinya, President of Pinya, composed his Epic Anthem, ´Gotcha!´.

As Tumo then-strummed his composition, lyrics came-to-him, as-if Ready Written -

perhaps by some horrible friend of Fotogon Dawi, the Monkey Muse. Tumo strummed and hummed, and then burst into magnificent melody. Tears, black and gooey, not dissimilar to those that flowed from Saint Donaldś blessed eyes, that-day; rolled gently down his flushed and blubbery cheeks - soaking his whole body in an evil ecstasy.

Around him in the Stellarsphere, and in Dimensions hidden to Human View - the Ancestors of the Uuuurgasauri Butterflies grinned, and spat venom from their graves, for-fun - and The Tightness Itself applauded.

Like Hitler, delighting in a chilled, vintage wine; while sharing a sonata with his Beloved Eva - Tumo summoned the Pinya Philharmonic - with whom he shared Exquisite Champagne, as they jovially recorded his Epic Anthem - which went - like this:

246

The Pinya Philharmonic, faint in the background. . A bold, staccato banjo take us off at-a-gallop:

"You gotta live in bricks and glass - yeah, baby; gotcha!

Walls are flat and painted nice - yeah, baby; gotcha!

All got switches, all got taps,

all got ceilings, all got locks -

Gotcha! Baby! Yeah!"

Tumo picks the melody, hauntingly, on The Presidential Banjo. Violins add pathos and grandeur. . Then weŕe-off again - galloping-away on that ól staccato banjo:

"And you gotta pay to live there - ha, ha! - yeah, baby; gotcha!

You gotta work to pay to live to work to pay

to live in bricks and glass - yeah baby; yeah baby -

gotcha! gotcha! yeah!"

The kettledrums roll, louder, louder - in a gloating, victorious, exuberant, allegro finale:

"And you actually believe you want this! You actually believe you do!

And you actually believe you want this -

like a Man who prefers to eat Poo

when there are cherries on the cherry trees,

and rosy apples plump-for-the-plucking, making the apple bough bow.

Wow! Who would´ve believed it?

Not me, not you!

You actually believe you want this -

Gotcha, Baby - Yes, You!"

Then finally.. finally - a duet for violin and banjo. . A fading, lyrical lament:

"It almost feels too easy, I feel I hardly need to try...

It almost feels too easy - why won´t you resist a bit more? Why? Oh why?"

Pinyaś First Officer of Sound Recording indicated (thumbs up) - it was done! Tumo and the Pinya Philharmonic lifted their Champagne Glasses. They toasted Tumo! They toasted themselves! Everyoneś Eyes were swollen with emotion. Around Everyoneś Feet, a puddle of black sludge.

II

Tumo knew he had composed the Ultimate Anthem to the Tightness. It was simple. It spoke in the vernacular. The Common People would understand. Yet it was Uplifting, Transporting, Moving - and, Tumo just-knew-it: It was a Pop Song that could Unite the Forces of the Tightness in the way that Only Song Can.

247

Tumo dismissed the Philharmonic with a clap above his head, like a Flamenco Dancer, and took a stroll though the Palatial Presidential Grounds. The Grounds were Palatial because before becoming Presidential, they were a Palace. There, Tumoś Ancestors had reigned tyrannically. There Queen Ziruela had infamously drowned her Husband, the Tyrannical King Groselo. There, innumerable Sovereigns had committed innumerable atrocities in the Name of Themselves.

Before becoming Palatial, these same gardens had been A Market Town, and before that An Encampment, and before-that, a field, with flowers. But now - seeing Tumo walking Up the Garden Path - the Gardeners began to click their fingers, and whistle some of Tumoś Biggest Hits - like Extras in a Bollywood Musical. And in-this-way, Tumo, today, as pleasantly as every Other Day, wandered breezily through the happy flowerbeds and merry fruit trees of His Palatial Presidential Gardens.

His plan well-matured by this wandering - it didn´t take Tumo long: that very-evening he was already on-the-phone with the Military Leadership of the Tightness, billeted at Defender Base Camp One, Plastasia.

"Play it to me!" hollered General Whazam Kapow Splat - now Supreme Commander of the Tightness Military (the line wasn´t good).

"What now, over-the-phone?" Tumo, President of Pinya, known to the Tightness Military for his Well Sung Guillotinings, and the sensational lighting effects of his Hangings, hollered-back.

"Yes, now!" screamed the General.

"OK" Tumo said, and he did.

General Whazam Kapow Splat put President Tumo de Pinya, backed-by the Pinya Philharmonic, on loudspeaker. As Tumoś Epic Anthem crackled-out of the loudspeaker, the room fell silent. Defender Base Camp One came to a halt. It was listening. Then movement resumed. But now Every Eye was shining-with-emotion -

and every splendidly-shiny boot at Base Camp One Military Facility was picking-its-way through a flooding, black, molasses-like substance..

Every Military Jacket with buttons was popping-buttons, as the Military Heart inside-it expanded; and everywhere-and-anywhere Military Personnel Saluted, Randomly -

lampposts, latrines, the goat enclosure. . It mattered not - it was an utterly-satisfying gesture - a revitalising, renewing Affirmation of the Rightness of Things, and of Everything Under Control.

I know youĺl think I am exaggerating, but ´Gotcha!´ became so-popular at Defender Base Camp One, that after only three or four broadcasts, almost Every Defender There knew the Lyrics by Heart. That is to say: they had taken President Tumo ´Black Foot´

248

de Pinyaś Inspired Epic, into the Sanctum of their Hearts. If ever Tumo had a Smash Hit on his sticky and sharp banjo-picking hands - this was it!

That same evening General Whazam Kapow Splat got back on-the-phone with Tumo

"Tumo, Amigo!" the General yelled, fraternally.

"What can I do for you, General?" Tumo asked, charitably.

"Tumo - how about a Concert on Plastasia? To Unite the Troops!"

"I thought you´d never ask!" said Tumo, casually, lightheartedly - while, deep-inside; in his haunted, murky Inner World of rightness, obedience, obscure fetishes and imaginative punishments - his Whole Being was Erupting. . Yes! This was HIS Time!

"Can it End with a Guillotining?" he checked, to avoid confusion.

"We haven´t got one", General W.K. Splat admitted. In fact, they hadn´t used Guillotines for Centuries. "How about a Firing Squad?"

"I can bring one."

"A Firing Squad?"

The line cut. They´d have to finalise details later. But it was a "yes". The Concert was on.

Tumo put the phone-down. He stood-up on his famous black feet, clicked his fingers flamenco-like, and summoned Pinyaś First Officer of Cooking. "Let this be a Day of Remembrance of Me throughout Pinya!" he almost-sang, "Bake me a Banquet!".. If this was His Time, and this was to-be The Final Battle - perhaps this would be His Only Time. Yet he would be Famous, Messianically Famous - a Legend who picked-on his banjo, and whistled and hummed to the accompaniment of the Pinya Philharmonic -

as the Combatants of Plastasia bit the dust. His Epic Anthem ´Gotcha!´ would be the Soundtrack to the End of the World. It would be remembered as Armageddonś Number One. And if-ever a New Civilisation was to-be-born; one that had recording equipment; and if someone had recorded his concert - then he would be Famous even-beyond The End of Time - perhaps (manic chuckle) forever.

III

The Defender Crowd went wild as Tumo Hit the Stage. They threw Pineapples in the Air in appreciation. They sung Leonard Cohenś ´Hallelujah!´, by mistake - having been told it was a Tumo Original. They threw Little Rubber Guillotines in the air, in recognition of Tumoś admirable presidential firmness, and macabre sadism. Then the lights went-down. Only Tumo was visible, in an angelic spotlight - sat on a stool, banjo on his knee. .

He looked-down - sad, it seemed. He looked-up - in supplication, it seemed. Violins stirred, somewhere, it seemed. Tumo looked-down, again - perplexed, perhaps. He looked-up, again - Touched By Grace, perhaps.

249

Then Tumo stood.. Clad, he was, in a Black Cloak. And then - who knows how - he was gripping Firesticks in Both Hands - Flaming Pens with which he then traced Mysterious Symbols, upon the air-around-him. Egyptian Hieroglyphs crossed with Celtic Crosses; AlchemistsĆrucibles with PhilosophersŚtones - ceremoniously, hypnotically, vacuously, spectacularly - Tumo theatrically endowed his Epic Anthem with suspicions of cosmic meaning. .

The violins faded. Tumo sat to strum. But hardly had the sound-vibration of his first strum brushed the hairs on the rims of the ears of the screaming, hysterical Crowd of Defenders, than they all-looked-down - and realised they were knee-deep in their own black Tear Juice. And they panicked..

Defenders bumped into Defenders, and fell-over, and got Black Sludged all-over; and helped Each Other up, and got their hands and sleeves all black and sludgy; until, until: no one gave-a-monkeyś anymore! Everyone just got mucky - like at Holi; but not with Paint, with Muck - and One Great Black Sludge Snowball Fight raged; as Tumo de Pinyaś banjo gathered to a gallop - and his Epic Anthem to shameless, cold-blooded Sadism resounded almost-biblically, in the seaside air all-around-them.

As the Defender Concert Crowd slipped and squished-about in the Sludge; it was almost-as-if the Sky was Speaking - and the Voice of the Tightness Itself serenading-them. . "You Gotta live in bricks and glass - yeah, baby; gotcha! Walls are flat and painted nice - yeah, baby; gotcha! All got switches, all got taps, all got ceilings, all got locks - Gotcha! Baby! Yeah!" The Uuuurgasauri, seated in the seats just-in-front of Tumoś Stage, were up-on their back-feet, and jiving. It was a relief from the Waiting Imposed by the Buddha Toddlers. It was great! As one Uuuurgasaurus with black-sludge-spotted wings, squealed-over to another with black-sludge in-its-eyes, "there hasn´t been much death yet; but hey, this is filthy!"

250

49

Ma Tiger Balm

I

ust as the Call to Plastasia had been-heard by Tumo, in far-off Pinya; so had it Jbeen

-heard in the Heights of the Himalayas - by the Great Tai Qigong Kung Eaaooow Mistress, Ma Tiger Balm - who was living-and-dying in an igloo on the top of Mount Everest - Living and Dying on Light. Touched, even-there, by the Severity of the Situation, she had materialised-herself on Plastasia, Ablaze with her Crusade. .

Ma Tiger Balm was on a Spiritual Mission - to Stop the Battle! Glorious in her Ancestral White Warriorś Robes, still dripping snow; her now-white dreadlocks swinging-around her head like snakes, Medusa-like, as She Preached - the huge and voluptuous Ma Tiger Balm stood-before the Ármageddon, The FinalsÍncoming Contestants, like an Oak Roaring against a Storm.

"Cowards! You are Cowards!" she thundered, "if you were not, you´d Stay in Your Hearts! But You Don´t! Not you-of The Family, who consider-yourselves The Righteous! Nor you-of The Defenders, who consider-yourselves The Realists! Youŕe All the Same! Cowards All!

What does it mean to Stay in the Heart? It means this - and listen well, before your Impetuousness Carries You to your Death - and worse, into Killing Others. . To Stay in the Heart means this: to Feel the Anger - and Stay; it means to Witness the Urge to Fight - and Feel it - and Stay! It means to Witness the Urge to Flight - and Feel it, and Stay! And you are NOT Staying! The Heart doesn´t see Family and Defenders! The Heart sees Other Hearts; and Looks into Other Eyes - and Sees Itself; and Loves Everyone! Everyone! Do you hear me?! Or are you too Deafened by your Big Ideas?!

Stop it NOW! Retract your Tight, Reactive Anger! Return to the Heart!" she roared

"you are Also To Blame! Your every move perpetuates the Mass Manufactured Life-and-Deathstyle! You are ALL Of The Tightness. Even-as you Critique and Protest the Tightness - you both Feed It, and Suck at Its Breast! The Tightness is in You All! Your Anger is a Knot of Tightness inside you - all tangled-up in ideas and identities and fears and unmet-needs - lashing-out, unable to Stay in the Pain in the Heart. But it is a Pain that is Perfect - because this Ongoing Armageddon IS Painful! Plastasia is Painful!

251

Step back-into Your Hearts, People of Plastasia! Retract any Fixed Position on Anything - including this Armageddon Theatre of War - and feel the Anger, feel the Pain - and Stay. . Stay in Your Hearts - loving each feeling, as it passes...

People of Plastasia - You are Ego Identified, and your Egos are Angry! Step-back from Your Egos, Return to Your Hearts - before this Ego Anger Ferries you to a Field of Death. DO NOT PARTCIPATE in this Collusive Indulgence in Mutual Mass Murder!

Feel the Pain of the Human Family, of the Family of All Creatures, of The Elementals

- and let Others see-themselves Reflected in your Tears! This Us-and-Them Anger is ITSELF Tightness! Retract From It! Let It Be! Rest in the Heart! Do you know what Ŕeal Courageís, People of Plastasia? I will Tell You! It is to turn your attention-away-from Public Opinion; away from the Opinions of Others, entirely; and to definitively, come-what-may, turn your attention-towards the Heart that is In You, in Everyone, and In Everything! THAT is Ultimate Courage!"

As she blasted-out her Gospel of Taoism, Satyagraha, and Zen Samurai Jujitsu - Ma Tiger Balmś great muscular arms and legs swept-about in a graceful-yet-decisive Marshall Arts Ballet. "Stay Here! Do Not Enter the Battlefield!" she dared her audience.

Mr Mahatma Mandela-King, who seemed to pop-up everywhere, stood and shouted

"Iĺl stay!", while waving a placard that read Ńot For What, nor Whether, nor How -

but As Whom´.

"Come! Let Us Stay in the Heart TOGETHER! Let Us Be a Third Way!" Ma Tiger Balm boomed - beginning-now to turn-up the volume of her Rallying Call. "Let Us Be a Third Way! Let us Not Pass through the Turnstiles! Let us Enter neither Family nor Defender Base Camp! Let us Not Take Sides! Let Us Side with the Heart in Us All! Let Us Stay Here - Outside the Battlefield! Let Be Warriors of the Heart! Let us remember the Heart of Every Human Being who has ever-lived, who lives-now, and who will ever come-to-live. Let us remember the Heart of Every Creature who was, is, and will-be.

And Let Us remember that Our Own Heart is just like theirs. .

II

As the Humans descended the two twenty-five-lane Hyper Ramps, at-the-end-of the Los Angeles to Plastasia Ultra Tension Hyper Bridge - there, below them, in the Eastern Plastasian Plains, they would see something Swathed in Swirling Robes; on a Podium stacked with loudspeakers - orating to a crowd sitting-crosslegged in concentric-circles around-it. And many there were, who were attracted to listen. And many there were, who Stayed. And so the concentric-circles grew in number, and in size. Ma Tiger Balmś Call to a Third Way was, it seemed, being heard and heeded.

252

At Defender Base Camp One, General W. K. Splat got-to-hear about this damming-up of his steady-stream of soldiers. "Discredit her Quickly!" he commanded his PR

Department - which, to this end, set-up Ma Tiger Balm Warning Stations, around the concentric circles of her cross-legged listeners. At these Warning Stations, Delegated Defender PR Personnel handed-out Leaflets entitled ´The Ma Tiger Balm Suicide Cult´.

"Ma Tiger Balm uses her charisma and kudos and judo to induce an intellectual coma", the Leaflets warned Newcomers to Plastasia. "Unable to think, unable to decide anything, they end-up sitting cross-legged for days - however much their knees hurt -

waiting for someone to come and kill them. Be warned! Don´t be stalled! Get through those Turnstiles - and letś Get Fighting!" And indeed, the Warning Stations did dissuade many an Innocent Newcomer - but still the concentric-circles surrounding Ma Tiger Balm grew - in number, and in size. .

And Ma Tiger Balm was not just-there to Preach. Ma Tiger Balm was a Tai Qigong Kung Eaaooow Warrior. As she whirled, and slashed, and sung - about a Way of Being that was not conflictive, but In Love with Life and Death - Ma Tiger Balm was simultaneously counting her audience. She needed a certain minimum to execute her plan. It was nothing new - it was to be a Plastasia-wide Sit In. . Well, more of a Sit On, than a Sit In; and more of a Pile On, than a Sit On. . Ma Tiger Balmś Vision was of Piles of People lumped-over every Turnstile Entry Point to the Ármageddon, the Finals´ Battlefield - and she had calculated the number of bodies needed. Each Turnstile would need at-least a Dozen People - and a Second Dozen, to give the First Dozen a break from being-lumped together, over a Turnstile, for hours; and vice versa. And there were almost a Thousand Turnstile Entry Points!

Ma Tiger Balm announced her Vision of Humans Lumped Heroically in-piles over Turnstiles all over Plastasia. And although her Vision was, perhaps, for most-of-them, not especially aesthetically pleasing - Ma Tiger Balm communicated-it as She Saw it: as a Dazzling Divine Spectacle of limbs and heads, drooped in deep-heartfelt, limp rebellion. "As soon as we are twenty-five-thousand Warriors of the Heart, this Battle can be Stopped!" she declared, prophetically, fierce as embers, "The Buddha Toddlers have Locked the Battlefield from the Inside - let us Lock it from the Outside! Together we can Stop this Aberration of an Apocalypse altogether!"

As Two Young Humans with a Baby sat-themselves-down in the outermost circle, whispering "this is Game B for real, man! Itś the Only Untried Choice!" - they hit the twenty-five-thousand mark - and Ma Tiger Balmś Vision was realised: twenty-five-thousand Warriors of the Heart arose from their crossleggedness, and dispersed to the Turnstiles of Plastasia - where they lumped-themselves, uninvited, upon them.

253

I.O.C Turnstile Attendants, I.O.C. Final Decision Booth Attendants, I.O.C. Turnstile Repair Operatives, and many-others of ´The Final Crew´ made emergency calls to Battle Control on their walkie-talkies. They walked and talked, and walked and talked, and walked and talked. Ma Tiger Balmś Third Way Warriors of the Heart lay lumped, over Each Other, and the Turnstiles - which had now ceased to turn. Only their Warrior of the Heart Eyes moved - as they watched the I.O.C. Final Crew walk up-and-down, and talk.

The Buddha Toddlers giggled. The Uuuurgasauri were exasperated. The Gids were both amused and dismayed. At the Essex Estate some Of Us were still watching the Pandemonium on Plastasia on the Large Screen in the Auditorium; Some of Us (HanuHanu, Myself, Besheesha, Koshofu, and Others), were watching on our Inner Screens - which allow much more flexibility, because you can zoom-in where YOU

want.

Captain CooRa, who was watching with his new-best-friend, the Alan Watts Zen Squirrel, leaned-over to Alan - and commented-proudly, that he knew Ma Tiger Balm personally, from Justice Campaigns in the East. The Other Giant Orange Monkey Tribes, and the Family of All Creatures - some with screens, some without - prayed in disbelief.

The Humans at Home were beginning-to-sense that Ármageddon, The Finals´ might not-be a one-off Punch Up, Bish Bosh, Pim Pam Poom, after all - but rather a slow-subtle, adjusting-adapting, rooting-sprouting-blossoming, evolving Alchemical Transformative Battle - Undefinable in terms of Previous Battles. . "Might this be a battle of months? Of years? Of decades? Of centuries?" It certainly seemed-to-be getting-off to a Slow Start..

In Her Heart, Ma Tiger Balm knew the I.O.C. would have no-other-option: soon they would pick her protestors off-of the turnstiles, and toss them down, humiliatingly, to the scridged-microplastic ground. For Then - whenever Then was-to-be - despite missing her Igloo, and all the comforts of home - Ma Tiger Balm was already piecing-together her follow-up-plan; and her plan-after-that.. In that sense, the Humans at Home seemed to be sensing-as-she-was: this was going-to-be Ármageddon Week´, or Ármageddon Month´, or Months, or More. . Who Knew?

III

With No One now-able to enter the Battlefield, the harbours and airports of Plastasia began to overflow. And Incoming Traffic on both fifty-lane Ultra Tension Hyper Bridges came to a standstill. Aeroplanes, Hot Air Balloons and Zeppelins flew around-and-around above the airports, waiting for a runway to land-on - the once-jubilant 254

Onboard Partying was now just stale beer, ashtrays and snoring. Cruise Ships, unable to dock, also-waited, anchored out-at-sea; bored and hung-over.

Plastasia had been Paralysed by Ma Tiger Balmś Slumped Warriors of the Heart - but not-so the Temperature of the Earth - which, kept-on rising. . Temperaments began to groan and spark with disappointment and frustration. Family Cruise Ships began chucking After Party Litter at Defender Cruise Ships, anchored nearby. And Defender Cruise Ships began to chuck-stuff-back. Soon many Cruise Ships had hoisted Family or Defender Flags, improvised Cannons, up-anchored - and were ducking-and-diving Around Each Other menacingly.

Such outbreaks, or ´Minigeddons´, as they´d become-known, had been all-but eliminated on both Bridges to Plastasia - thanks to the Big I.O.C. Signs, at hundred-metre-intervals, along both Bridges: Signs with Two Humans Fighting, slashed-through with a Thick Red Line - meaning "No! No Fighting!". Under the picture, were the words ´Keep the Blood on the Battlefield!´ Yes, there were a few, sweaty tussles and skirmishes on the chock-a-block Bridges - of course there were! But the ´Keep the Blood on the Battlefield!Śigns undoubtedly helped ease the pressure of the Eager Participants´ bubbling, idealistic nerves.

To quell this latest Minigeddon, the I.O.C. put (Different) Signs on Tug Boats, which then chugged-about between the Squabbling Cruise Ships. The Tug Boat Crews shouted at the ships through megaphones, and gesticulated that the Humans on the Ships should READ THE SIGN! The Signs read: "In accordance with I.O.C. Plastasian Emergency Legislation, and in accordance with Battlefield Bylaw 123, Subsection 321, Permissible and Impermissible PreBattle Behaviour; No Fighting is permitted Outside of the Battlefield, and anyone caught Fighting Outside will not be permitted to Fight Inside". This was perhaps severe, on the part of the I.O.C. - but they felt it-was-of extreme importance this be an Orderly War.

255

50

And Still They Came

I

nd Still they Came. On Bikes, Boats, Planes and Donkeys They Came - the A C hildren of Noah. And even if they Didn´t Come - they were-there, via their screens.. (An option unavailable in the Biblical Era.) My Inner Eye surveyed the frazzled and frustrated, boisterous and festive Incoming Flow of Human Contestants

- itching, most of them, for a fight.

As my Seeing panned-out over the two Great Ultra Tension Hyper Bridges to Plastasia, I saw so-much Heart and Intelligence and Creativity, still on its way.. Half-way-across the Shanghai-Plastasia Hyper Bridge The Tomato Pensioners, - equipped with Seeds, Spades, Wellies, and the Wisdom of the Humbling Years - were explaining to Others, who´d also gotten-out of their Cars, and had Nothing to Do - that To Plant a Tomato Plant (understood here as Representative of All Vegetables), was the Ultimate Revolutionary Act - an Act of Power symbolising Social Autonomy; an Act of Love expressing Belonging, Dependence and Gratitude. And to my surprise, further-up the Hyper Bridge - there was another group: The Cucumber Pensioners! And on the Los Angeles-Plastasia Hyper Bridge, also about half-way-along - yet another group: The Lettuce Pensioners! Now, I´m not a cook, but I do like Salads in the Summer, and I saw a Potential Alliance there. .

I could go-on, Little Cousins. . The Pot of Battle had not bubbled-over. But It was simmering; hissing. . (Although, talking of food.. ) the Cordon Bleu Dinner Party - a sister organisation of the Breakfast Party, and the Ice Lolly Lickers - were distributing that-eveningś ´Menu of Choiceámong the Incoming Human Traffic. It read "we are delighted to offer a choice of two Evening Meals. Please Place your Order before-arriving at the Turnstiles". The Choice Was:

Hors d'Oeuvre

´Free as the Wind´ Vol-au-Vents

-OR-

Conditioned and Convinced Carpaccio

256

Soup

Off-the-Allotment and Into-the-Pot Life Force Soup

-OR-

´The Devilś Brew´, a delicately-spiced and colourful Minestrone of assorted genetically-modified, yet-still-recognisable veg

Main Dish

Roasted Bliss of Belonging

(accompanied by a zany Tantric side-salad)

-OR-

Roasted Alienation

(accompanied by a taste-free, depressed side-salad)

Cheeses

A simple platter of Community Co-Op Cheeses

-OR-

A prize-winning selection of Centralised Technocratic Nuts Dessert

Paradise Found Pudding

(served with a fine dessert wine of Stillness - unshakeable, never-stirred)

-OR-

Collective Species Nervous Breakdown Pie,

drizzled with a creamy Haunted by Pressure sauce

(served with the fashionable dessert-wine, Exponential Acceleration) I could go-on, Little Cousins - but this section of the Essex (European) Giant Orange Monkey Tribe Annals was supposed to recount-only the Times of the United Nations Sponsored Lecture Series, ´Wakey, Wakey, Little Cousins!´ - and, to-be-fair: I´ve probably already gone-on too-far. . Also, as I said, I want to present The Times of the Lectures as a concise, stand-alone, pull-out section of the Annals - for everyoneś convenience.

And so, for-now, let us leave them all: The Cordon Bleu Dinner Party, The Breakfast Party, the Ice Lolly Lickers, and Ice Towel Geishas refreshing the queues; the Ma Tiger Balm Warriors of the Heart slumped in heaps over the Turnstiles1; the Military Leaderships of Both Sides In-Meetings with the I.O.C. as to How to Secure the Battlefield Entry Points....

257

The Gids looking-down lovingly through the Ozone Hole; the Uuuurgasauri, by-turns

- Raring to Show Off their Powers, and utterly-arrogantly disinterested; the Family of All Creatures relieved, at least temporarily, by the protraction and procrastination; the Alan Watts Squirrel Laughing like the Wind, and CooRa accompanying him, Crowing; Cruise Ships playing Pirates; The Tantric Pirates Glowing in their Strawberry Cupcakes; impetuous Tomato Pensioners Planting Tomato Plants, there-and-then, along the borders of the Shanghai-Plastasia Hyper Bridge. .

The Final Decision Booths in full-swing; the Bongonburg Brass Band blasting-out Epic, Mythological Symphonies; the Heyday Hippies dancing around-them, trippily; Eco Villages taking Root, against-the-odds, upon the plastic; the Collective Buddha Toddler Consciousness of the Earth patiently squatted-along the Equator of Plastasia

- effectively, now in possession of the Ármageddon, The FinalsŚtart Gun; Omar and Bubbles embracing; ShunShunShoola in Globs and Globulettes - sheltering the Family from ill-intent; the Highest Echelons of the Human Leadership of the Tightness, retreated to their Stunning, Futuristic Atlantean Bunker, being generationally-diminished by Dead Air Disease; the Silent Movie Hackers hacking-away; a shaven-headed David Attenborough teaching Microplastic Recognition to the Albatrosses; the heat almost-unbearable; the Waters of the World about-to-spill. .

And I, Cupid, Son of Cupid, Son Of Besheesha of Radiance and Grace; in deepest gratitude for all I feel I have received, and continue to receive; here conclude The HanuHanu Gita - and thank you for your attention.

I have enjoyed writing this Section of the Annals. I have felt You All particularly-close, throughout the writing. I hope you have Felt Close to Me! I bet I am the first blind, winged hermaphrodite Giant Orange Monkey-Demigod Hybrid you´ve ever met!

Notes:

1. Ma Tiger Balmś Slumpers were regularly removed from the Turnstiles, but they kept Slumping Back. In fact, Slumping Itself had become quite Popular on Plastasia - and was no longer confined to the Turnstiles.

Ma Tiger Balmś Warriors of the Heart were slumping Everywhere.

Slumping was having Something of a Heyday.

Rather than getting-caught in an Oppositional Argument, they would let their Heart WarriorsĹegs go-rubbery, and buckle beneath-them. .

They would thus crumple to the ground - like discarded Uuuurgasauri 258

Skin Sacks. . and this was known-as ślumping´. Even-some I.O.C. Ĺast Crew´ Technicians had become Slumpers.

It was a radical and full-bodied rejection of Oppositionalism. Some Slumpers would carry cushions - to Soften their Slump. Some even carried small individual trampolines - so that they´d bounce straight back-up - ready for Another Slump.

And although Ma Tiger Balm had never envisioned Spontaneous Individual Random Slumping within her original Grand Crusade to Stop the War - she praised the practice lavishly. It was, undoubtedly disconcerting - for an Oppositional Other - to have a conversation suddenly terminate in a Slump.

259

Epilogue

I

t had been a Momentous Moment, I´d felt, while Ármageddon, The Finals´ was being-conceived, and Plastasia coming into existence. Yet I feel it still is... I feel it I

is a very long Momentous Moment! After All - as-I-write these words - the Human Family continues to proceed by land, air and sea, almost magnetically, almost magically, towards Ármageddon, The Finals´, The Ultimate Showdown.

If you look-out of your window right now, youĺl be sure-to-see Someone on their Way: a Hitch-Hiker on your street corner, their cardboard plea, ´Plastasia Please´, clutched to their chest; or a sleek Uuuurgasauri limousine with superb suspension, sliding insidiously down your street..

If you look-out of your window right now, youĺl be sure-to-see a City Dig Up enthusiast riding-past, bareback on a Bulldozer; or a stray Tank; or a marooned Tantric Pirate; or a Truck with a shipment of sponge Zip Bricks; or a youngster with a Bass Trombone, off to audition for the Bongonburg Brass Band. . Or perhaps, as you peek-out from behind your curtain, youĺl see a Lone Buddha Toddler, who got left-behind, sitting on the pavement, sniffling. .

There are days-now when it seems-to-me, that the Human Battle at the End of Time, is just-beginning. And there are days when it seems-to-me, it began at the Beginning of Time. .

II

Last Night, in a Forest Glade between the Amphitheatre and Lake Wet - bright and cold beneath the now-waning moon - HanuHanu sang Bob Dylanś ´The Times They Are A-Changin´´, in his echoing, erotic, bass voice - for All of the Creatures on the Essex Estate. And in exchange, we offered him Our Company.

HanuHanu is an exceptional musician. With his Four Hands he plays extraordinary duets. Sometimes he plays piano with his Two Lower Hands, and violin with his Uppers; sometimes he plays Electric Guitar with his Two Upper Hands, and Drums with his Lowers.. Last night, though, in the Darkness before Dawn, HanuHanu strummed two Spanish Guitars - and sung.

His admiration for ´Blowing in the Wind´, had led him to this Other Dylan Favourite. .

"Come gather ŕound People, wherever you Roam; and Admit that the Waters around 260

you have Grown!" he sung darkly, movingly, ". .so you better start Swimminór youĺl Sink like a Stone! For the Times they are A-Changin´!Ás HanuHanu strummed and sang; I felt the guitar strings vibrate inside me; his voice hug me; and a thousand nuances in his tone - his compassion, his pain; his dignity, his surrender...

"Don´t Speak too Soon, for the Wheelś still in Spin; and thereś No Tellin´ who that itś Namin´. . Thereś a Battle Outside and itś Raging!.. For The Times they are A-Changin´!" Some Creatures hummed-along; some knew the lyrics. Together, somehow, we Soothed ourselves in Song - for though the Buddha Toddlers still sit-firm on the Equator of Plastasia; and though Ma Tiger Balmś Warriors of the Heart keep Slumping Back over the Turnstile Entry Points to the Battlefield - nobodyś kidding themselves. .

The warming Sun began to flicker through the Forest Glade. The Creatures of the Day were getting Itchy Feet, and the Creatures of the Night were Yawning. We Gathered for a Group Hug - an Estate Hug - the Giant Orange Monkeys, the Beavers, the Elves, the Spiders, the Hazels... And as HanuHanu strummed-and-sung ´Mr Tambourine Man´, we swayed-there, together, in the dawnlight - Grateful for the Day.

261

Publisherś

Appendices

Appendix 1

Negotiations with the Author

I

i! My name is Valery Mickey - known to-the-world as Áuntie Val´ - suddenly H the

Founder of Auntie Val Publishing, and the Publisher of the HanuHanu Gita.

I say śuddenly´ because I am sixty-four-now - and for sixty-three years, I didn´t do any-of-this. .

I was The Head Dinner Lady at the clifftop OmEgo Hardcore Cafeteria; the cafeteria of-one-of the Worldś Largest Hardcore Meditation Hotels - for over forty years! I ran a tight kitchen - but a happy one. I ruled with Hugs and Reggae! I was everyoneś Áuntie Val´.

Then, in-the-summer of 2020 - yes, just last-summer: My Reality was Disassembled!

And not-by The Virus Affair. .

The Virus Affair was generating - how could-it-not? - the Full Spectrum of Responses

- from Horror to Surrender. . I don´t know how that-time-was For You, but in Lockdown at the OmEgo Hardcore Meditation Hotel, spirits were High. There was an excitement in the corridors - as-if The Virus Affair was lifting-up the bonnet of The Great Car of Human Civilisation; exposing the appalling State of the Engine – the way Dorothy had unveiled the Wizard of Oz – somehow unbinding whatever-was-still spellbound within-us. It felt-like The Summer of Remembrance, at the OmEgo Hotel

- of "oops, yes, I´d suspected, but now I see!" It felt-like the Summer of Return to our Sovereignty! We felt released; and united; and empowered! It felt like Opportunity. It felt like a Gift.

At mealtimes - the cafeteria windows and doors open to the sunshine - there was a thrill in the air. We all-now-saw the Ugliness beneath the filmstars and flags and fancy cars in Higher Definition Than Ever. And we were pleased we had Chosen Beauty! It felt like the sidewalks and pavements of the world were cracking - an era ending, perhaps - who knew? - and that we, the Staff and Meditators at the OmEgo Hardcore Meditation Hotel, and Everyone Else who´d seen-what-we´d-seen - were the wild seed that, co-incidentally, was seeking cracks to grow in. .

It was within-this-setting, of an already-elated OmEgo Hotel, that I had ´My Disassemblage - and my Reassemblage!

263

In June 2020, at the time of the Strawberry Full Moon - Blind Cupid came to my bedroom. To put-it succinctly: in terms of Terror, and in terms of Transformation: of All the Meetings I have ever-had, ever, anywhere, with anyone; or any situation, or anything: My Meeting with Blind Cupid outdid them all - effortlessly! I have never-known Such Terror nor Transformation. .

I remember that bedroom at the OmEgo Hotel with Awe. I always loved it! It was huge

- and overlooked Port Nearby, with its Sailing Boats and Fairy Lights. But I remember it, now, with Reverence: as the Sacred Place where Blind Cupid Appeared to Me - The HanuHanu Gita tucked-away, on an external hard-drive, in a sidepocket on Its quiver. .

II

It is five-in-the-morning. I wake. Where Am I? I am in my bed, in my huge bedroom, at the Retreat Hotel, at the seaside. I hear a voice. Whoś that? A gentle voice. . "Hello", It says, tentatively. I open my eyes - and scream! As I scream I Shut my Eyes - so I open-them: to check. And yes! Itś still there! I scream again! I close my eyes, I open-my-eyes, I look, I scream. I look-again, I scream-again. And so-on. This goes on for, perhaps, an hour.

"Hello", It says, tentatively, again - as my breathing slows from terror, to panic - to the relief of this being nothing-more than: the Disintegration of My Mind!

"What ARE you?" I blurt

"I am Blind Cupid" It says, "I am A God of Erotic Love. Yet I am also a Giant Orange Monkey, and the Scribe of the HanuHanu Tribe Annals".

"Oh!" I say, very very quietly. Then scream again. And again. And Still It Was There!

This Apparition Called Blind Cupid glowed orange. Its bow and quiver and arrows glowed a faint-green. Its Tiny Wings shimmered and sparkled. It hovered, cross-legged, at bed-height - between my bed and the Huge Windows that Overlooked the Port.

And it was a Monkey! A Huge Floating Glowing Monkey! And I mean ´huge´ - even cross-legged, it had to bend-its-neck forwards to be able to levitate-like-that, and still-fit beneath the ceiling! And it was smiling! Affectionately! It was smiling so-sweetly, like a Teletubbie! And Itś Eyes! Its Eyes were White and Inwards. .

Look - I know you don´t know me, but let me be clear: I am not a drug-taker, nor of unstable mental health. I have maintained a High Profile in the world of Corporate Cuisine - lecturing on Deserts and Table Manners, for decades. I have written a weekly Agony Aunt Column in a National Newspaper. I have raised six children; been-through two tooth-and-nail divorces - and all-the-while, been Head Coach to a National Womenś Skiing Team. I am not an embellisher! I don´t make stuff up! I tell it straight!

264

This is what happened to me. And itś the beginning of how I came to publish The HanuHanu Gita. .

III

"I am A God of Erotic Love" It repeated, "I am A God of Erotic Love!" And this-time: I FELT Its Words! My Whole Body buzzed and twitched; and hummed and fluttered; and tickled-all-over with the subtlest of sweet-pleasures - until it relaxed. . Well: I can´t remember being so-relaxed since I was a child!

And so my questioning took-another-tone - gradually shifting from "What The Fuck?!"; towards a conversation so-intimate, it can only Take Place between Those In Love.

"Where are you?" I asked Blind Cupid, "I mean - are you HERE on Earth? Are you Between Dimensions? Or is there. ." Then I found my Real Question. "Blind Cupid" I asked From my Heart, "are you Really Here?"

"Valery" It said softly, "Where is Anything - Ultimately? But yes - I am here, feel-for-yourself. ." And a Huge Glowing Orange Monkey Hand reached across the bed, towards-me; picked-up a finger-of-mine with utmost delicacy; and prodded a fingernail-of-mine into Its Arm. . And, yes - I could feel It! It was a bit-spongey, I thought. But, It was Tangible, for sure..

I felt Its Arm, then Its Knee - and as the Dawn Sun brightened the Night into Day; Blind Cupid and I embraced, and kissed, and Made Love. Although don´t-ask-me how thatś possible - because, after I touched Its Knee, neither-of-us moved-an-inch! But I have no-doubt-about-it: It was Inside Me; and I Inside It!

IV

Immediately-after this Explosive Encounter, I was so Dizzy - I didn´t know if the Room was spinning, or if I was! Then, after a-few days-and-nights Under the Duvet; one night

- I crept-out, Into the Strawberry Moonlit Clifftop Gardens. Everything was SO

Beautiful! I felt so Happy!

And-if I had Made Love without Moving, with the Roman God of Erotic Love, who, as it-so-happened, turned out-to-be, a Glowing Levitating Blind Giant Orange Monkey with Wings - which I had - then What Was All-of-This REALLY? This Reality could be Anything! My conceptual frameworks weren´t conceptualising at-all-well. I skipped-about like Alice in OmEgoland - Conceptless and Free - along the rose-tinted paths, and across the blushing lawns, of the Clifftop Gardens, of the OmEgo Hardcore Meditation Hotel.

265

V

Since then, Blind Cupid has visited me many-times - as-energy.. As-well-as living Its fleshy-life as the HanuHanu Giant Orange Monkey Tribe Scribe, Blind Cupid also flies as-energy, though Human Dreams - "following the scent of True Loveäs It puts-it..

And since those days of Lockdown and Release, and those nights Dancing with the Pink Trees beneath the Strawberry Moon - Blind Cupid has returned -to-me, many-times - as-energy. . Flirting with Me in my half-sleep - kissing-me-quick, upon my brow; or upon a cheek - or upon a rainbow. . Mostly, we sit Together in Love, and touch; and meditate and chat; and sometimes sing, or do Yoga, or levitate.

Darlings - I am In Love! I Am! Not with Blind Cupid, though. I Love Blind Cupid - of course I do! And Blind Cupid Loves Me! But Blind Cupid is not The Love I am In! You might say I´m In Love, together with Blind Cupid! And Blind Cupid: thank you, thank you, thank you. .

Blind Cupid Appeared to Me, like a Sacred Ayahuascan Hallucination - that unimaginable morning, in my beloved bedroom at the OmEgo Hardcore Meditation Hotel - and Shocked Me, and Relaxed Me, and Introduced me to Love.

VI

By the Grace of My Encounter with Blind Cupid I feel my Dry and Defined Reality has been replaced, by a Wet and Wonderful One! So it was a quick and predictable "Yes!", when Blind Cupid pulled his hard-drive from his quiver - and asked me to publish The HanuHanu Gita. In fact, I have resigned as Head Dinner Lady at the OmEgo Hardcore Cafeteria (after all-those-years!), and am-now devoting-my-time, full-time, to the diffusion of The HanuHanu Gita.

In fact, I have bought-myself a second-hand Spaceship; where I now live, Circling the Earth at a-fair-height, just beyond the Earthś Exosphere - and work-from-home, as a Liaison Officer for Human to Giant Orange Monkey Literary Queries.

My Darlings - We Are One!

Enjoy the book!

I love You All!

Captain among Captains,

Auntie Val (Valery Mickey),

for Auntie Val Publishing,

aboard ´The Creativity´.

266

Appendix 2

Publisherś Disclaimer

was advised ´for legal reasons´, to add a Disclaimer to the HanuHanu Gita – so, one-evening, in my Cabin aboard The Creativity; I polished my wand, lit my I

candles and incense – and spoke-upwards, towards the heavy-metal ceiling… holding Blind Cupid in my mindś-eye – and asked it what-to-do…

It came-to-me, once-again… This-time I couldn´t see It. I could feel It – there, with-me, though – its Distinctive Eroticising Presence!

“A disclaimer?!” it asked-back, confused… “Yes” I said, “you know… something like ány resemblance to Factual Characters in this Work of Fiction, are purely coincidental´.

“Oooh!” it said, smiling-cheekily, “I see! How interesting! They want you to present the HanuHanu Gita as Fiction! To deny the Epic Events it describes ever took-place! To give False Witness – and claim the Humans who were-there, weren´t Who they Were!”

Blind Cupid shook its invisible head, and tuttered. The Complexity of Human Superficiality astonished-it, it seemed.

“Valery” it then-said, boldly, “let-us not be-afraid! Let-us Tell the Truth! Let-us let-them Know: the Characters in the HanuHanu Gita are No More Fictional than the Characters they dress-as, and speak-as, all day every day!”

“Valery” it added, “Remind them that it is precisely-because We Can All sometimes Factualise our Fictions – that, throughout-history, and to-this-day: the Most Noble of Presidents of Galactic Federations, Supreme Starfleet Commanders, and Empresses of Vast Stellar Realms – all Honour, and all let themselves be-boffed-about a bit, by The Buffoon!”

267

Appendix 3

Literary License

lind Cupidś amusement with Human Lawmaking rippled-out, beyond my cabin B - through the Other Cabins, and the Cafeteria and Engine Room of The Creativity.. And it rippled-into me! I found-myself laughing with-it - and I think the Whole Crew did too! It was such a Hot Loving Laugh! Oooh - I felt all-cuddled-up in it! I think We All were! And Our Beloved Creativity. . I felt it was surfing the waves of Outer Space, like a Dolphin in Delight - splashing-and-spinning in an Ocean of Darkness, starlight spraying from its Solar Shields!

"Oh, Blind Cupid - there IS one-more-thing, about the HanuHanu Gita" I stammered, still-laughing - amused-now by my own efficiency! "Ah, ha. ." It said, invitingly "Under what License do you want me to Publish?" I asked. "License?!" It asked-back, confused..

"Yes" I said, still speaking-upwards, at the Cabin Ceiling "you know... like whether Other Humans can copy and redistribute the book. "Oh! That would be very kind of them!" It observed - still mildly-perplexed. . "And whether Other Humans can adapt, or rewrite, or transform, or develop the book" I said, beginning-to-feel this Licensing Business was perhaps more-suspicious than I´d suspected. . "Oh! That would be very creative of them!" It said, beginning-now, I felt, to enjoy playing questions-and-answers. .

"And what-about ´giving appropriate credit´? Do you feel it is essential the Kind and Creative credit-you, as the original source of the work?" I said, unsuspectingly: for no-sooner had-I-voiced this innocent enquiry, than Blind Cupid was hooting and howling in hysterics!

"Me?! Me?! Me ´the original source´?! How could I claim such-a-thing?! That sounds-like one of Goojś Stunts! She would declare a Work of Art ´hers´! But-only to mock the concept of ownership! No! The HanuHanu Gita was written-down by me, in Squid Ink, with my Pterodactyl Plume; typed-out on a Laptop; and saved-onto an External Hard- but its Source is Fotogon Dawi, The Lineage of the Scribe, The Monkey Muse!

In fact.. " Blind Cupid reflected, "let-me-ask It, whether It feels it is essential, that It be-credited, as the original source of the HanuHanu Gita."

And, I swear, Blind Cupid was absent for less-than-a-second - before it said "Fotogon Dawiś here next-to-me - hooting and howling in hysterics!" And, of course, Blind Cupid joined-in! And then: so did I... And I think the Whole Crew did!

268

And then, and then. . I heard Another Voice Speak. A Voice I had never-heard-before. .

It spoke in a Rough Cosmic Growl. It was the Voice of Fotogon Dawi - the timeless-placeless Monkey Muse. "Do you realise Who I Am?! I am Fotogon Dawi!" it declared, offended - "I am not Golum! The HanuHanu Gita is not My Precious!"

It crossed-my-mind that Tolkien and Fotogon Dawi probably knew Each Other well...

"You insult me!" it growled, proudly "do you realise Who I Am?! I am The Monkey Muse! Do the Elementals License themselves? Does the Air keep all-rights-reserved on Breathing? And although Your Body is Mostly Water... Does the Water claim, therefore

- Majority Ownership of You? Does the Fire legislate its Own Use - or does it leave THAT Up To You? Does the earth you walk-upon, and lie-down upon, charge you rent?"

"Human Being!" it snarled and snorted, "your Species might want Me to License Myself, but I am unlicensable!"

"But let me telI you a secret" it said, more-affectionately: "I am unlicensable because -

just as Blind Cupid feels-me Moving Within it - I feel the Muse of Muses Moving Within me. And how could it-not-be that - in this fractal universe - there not be A Muse of the Muse of Muses, and so on, ad infinitum? Eh? So License THAT!"

I wasn´t sure if I´d been chastised, personally - or whether this was a Telling Off for the Human Species, and its copyrighting services. Blind Cupid, as empathic-as-ever, said softly "itś OK, Valery. You can relax. Fotogon has gone. I just thought it might be informative-for-you to hear-it-straight from the Monkey Museś Mouth."

"Well, I think that covers everything" I muttered, unsure. "Iĺl be back soon" Blind Cupid whispered, seductively - and kissed-me, invisibly, on the nape of my Naked Neck.

269

The HanuHanu Gita

is available for free download at:

www.hanuhanu.org

263

Table of Contents

Part One - Vision

Part Two - Division

Part Three - Decision

1 I, Blind Cupid, Introduce HanuHanu

2 HanuHanu?

3 The Day of the First Lecture

4 United Nations Sponsorship

5 A Note on the Nobel Prize

6 Peace by T-Shirts

7 Lecture 1: Human Superiority

8 How We Got to Essex

9 Genital Barometer

10 Gooj

11 Estate Security

12 Lecture 2: How to Become an Animal Again

13 The Elite Trickster Warrior Monkeys

14 The Hundred Human Effect

15 Save The Lesbians

16 The Liberation of the Chickens

17 The Battle of Merchandise

18 The Psi Ops Teams

19 Garangula Gets in the Groove

20 Things Humans Ask

21 Lecture 3: Not Knowing

22 The “How Many Humans Give a Shit?” Questionnaire

23 Quadrophasic Synaptic Linking

24 The Great City Dig-Up

25 The Tribe Has A Baby

26 At Lake Wet

27 Lecture 4: The Bliss of Belonging

28 Solar System Supper

29 Stop Cannibalism Now!

30 The Uuuurgasauri

31 Ecstatic Shock Therapy

32 The Trojan Banana Spa Resorts

33 Jonny & Yoddy

34 The Buddha Toddlers

35 The Alan Watts Zen Squirrel

36 A Momentous Moment

37 Lecture 5: Not For What, nor Whether, nor How - but As Whom?

38 The Giraffe Whispererś Fear

39 Armageddon, The Finals

40 Ways to Fight

41 The Courtship & Marriage of The Great Bolderdash & The Great Oak Mother 215

42 The Uuuurgasauri Strip Off

43 The Atlantean Bunker

44 Omar & Bubbles

45 Phillip Wise Sword

46 The Turnstiles & The Booths

47 The Defender Side of Plastasia

48 Tumo de Pinya

49 Ma Tiger Balm

50 And Still They Came