Hear now young children, brave fathers, peaceful valleys, and fellow sons of the countryside. Hear now, sweet mothers, brave daughters, dwellers of the mountains, and dwellers of the cities. I come with a story, a light, a fire, and an eye to give you wisdom. It is for those with spirits bright, with minds open, and hearts strong. Hear this, a cautious tale and know that wine sparkles from the waters beneath this epic. This tale is a vine from which sorrow may grow. Yet sorrow of this kind will foam like the watersheds beneath the highway. And these bubbles will bring great comfort, and it will sink into your soul with a light of joy as it stands emerging victorious. The mountain tops tremble with love before the hands of those who know the meaning of our story as it unfolds. Put every fiber of your heart into it, and find the meaning which I bury in these words.
There once was a man of war. Strong and fierce like Napoleon’s sword. He had the standings and the armies of the great Caesar. He even had the mind so grim and mighty like those, the hands of Attila. Brute force, and the sharpness of the mind, along with a heart so pale and weak in kindness that the ground would shrivel before his footsteps.
He was from the valley beneath the great cities effect. The valley was grooming its gardens with the sparks of pride and wealth. Wealth, pride, and opulence were the definitions of those days, hanging like the sun where power and privilege know these bright hours.
He was born of noble birth. He was descended from a family of royals, and scholars, and kings, and great priests. He was from a family of great accomplishments, great science, great minds, and fine art upon the walls. From his youth he was told that only the finest and most beautiful of women should be his. He heard this. And he listened. And he took it into his heart.
Wealth was poured upon his back like soap which cleans the skin. It was a daily outpouring like rain upon the jungle.
As he became a man he was famous for his charm. Armies of women sought to conquer his heart and bring him to the bed of love. He was tall, strong, dazzling, and handsome, like clouds by the presence of a rainbow.
Women took delight in him and called him the greatest man of the country! Scholars and professors praised his brilliance! His popularity grew like deer or grass as they overtake the meadows! The men of his time envied him with love. For his intellect, his attractiveness, clean style, and ambition shocked all of the peoples of the valley.
But deep in the heart of this man was something seen by no one. Not a soul perceived a subtle element buried deep under his charm and his stamina.
His name was Parmetheus. He was from a family of saints. His forefathers fought off invading armies and were the great heroes of his valley, town, and country.
Every man, woman, and child saw him as a hero. He went to the finest university of all the land. And there he seduced the hearts of countless women. For they all knew he was the greatest hero of all the young men.
He was thought impeccable in his integrity, his wit, his intelligence, and his humor.
But deep in the shadows behind the meadow of this, the outer person, there was buried in Parmetheus something no one could see. It was a quality which had been sealed so that no one could perceive it. In Parmetheus was a desire for glory. And a fear that his present glory was not enough.
Although all thought that he was perfect in looks, wealth, skills, mind, morality, and ambition. Parmetheus wanted more. His glory, he thought, was incomplete.
Parmetheus seemed to be a man of great faith. There was not a Sunday morning light where he was not found in the Churches of his town. His piety was so evident and so obvious that he was thought to be a saint.
Yet Parmetheus in his heart scorned the God he claimed to love. Parmetheus, in his heart, knew that the moral laws of the common people could not apply to him. For how could these laws apply to him when they were crafted for persons so much weaker, and more foolish than himself? The common man was too much a fool to think for himself, he thought. They had to take the laws which were held valid for all, by both reason and tradition.
Gray fields would turn orange, red, and blue with joy beneath the power of his athletics. He was known for his great sportsmanship and his great success at school. He was the first in his class to receive a job, with great pay, fine conditions, and much prestige. He was hired by the most famous company in all the land.
There was not a soul on all the face of the earth loved more than Parmetheus.
Then, one day, Parmetheus took a stroll, and went into the fair wood by his town. He found an oak tree whirling his mind with the glory of its bright brown outgrowth, its deep dark wisdom, and its gentle touch against the wind, and the ways in which the wind sprinkled the kindness of all the world.
He sat beneath it. And he thought to himself “I am the fair light which strikes iron into nothingness. I am the great mind which brings to foolishness the work of all the great masters. I am the great prophet who has the lips of God and the heart of pure water. I am the great flesh which can crush the strongest of men and impress the most glorious of women. No one can stand above me just as nothing in all the earth stands taller than the mountain of Everest.”
A wind from the heavens came upon him as a curse. And the mad spirit within him said “If this is so as I know it to be true then surely I must be a ruler. For that which is great must rule, so that the earth can be replenished. For I have succeeded in all the glories of the world. I have triumphed over each and every man. Because this is so, I must be a ruler, and I must expand my kingdom into all the world.”
Then the spirit of the evil one came upon him and they spoke. Parmetheus said to himself “If the world came under my rule, under the rule of a great one such as I, would not all the earth be bathed in the waters of happiness like the light of heaven? Would not then the peasants sleep in houses of gold? Would not then God himself die before me as my glory becomes too great for God, and so the world would surely forget God? What is God that he should call upon me? What is this idea that it matters to the meek and the humble as well as to the great thinkers? If I am so great, then the absolute means nothing. If I am so strong, then divinity is not meaningful. I will work wonders and capture cities. Then I shall engineer the world and make it into a spark of glory. The sick will no longer die. The trains will all run on time. All will be happy under the sun. And the light will shine like a ray of glory which sweeps over our hearts and makes us pure. But to make this happen, I must murder. I can murder and nothing will be wrong with this, nothing about it will be wicked. For I was and I am greater than all the winds of time, and the moral law within us all must be different for me, than it is for all others.”
And so proud Parmetheus came towering down like the mountains. His ray came like the beam of the sun. His proud arms were like the forests which smother day into night.
He went into town and left his job.
He went forward and joined the army of his nation.
He was raised from office to office like the dust of the sky beneath the heavens. He was always upward in his power and in his composition. And no matter the obscurity of the path before him he would ride forward like the bravery of the sun. For his path was the winding fabric of the earth, wherein one knows not their next position, and yet the stamina rises firmly for things unfolding.
Soon he was an officer, then a commander, and then a general. The thought of power captivated him with the fantasies of immensity, and pleasure, and the draping moon upon great luxury. His heart was stolen into the unbounded desire, and the dark web of addiction. No matter his effort, and no matter his will, his addiction to the thought and the conception of glory was so firm that it was unbreakable. For the joy of all things can be relinquished into nothing if this one addiction is present, in the heart of any given soul.
He soon conspired against the emperor of the land. The emperor was fair and balanced, as the laws of nature slide down upon us, and they come with force. So he was radiant with justice, in a manner built upon walls of courage and the depth of human ingenuity.
Yet Parmetheus with his great charm fooled the masses. He gave speeches where his kindness was like the poison of the banquet. He lied, and he hid himself secretly under the cover of deceit. The world saw not the iniquity of his heart. And it rejoiced in him. He led his men to murder the emperor. And he rolled himself in the emperor’s blood, all alone, in his room.
He took his position as the emperor. He ordered every constraint upon his power to be removed. All the people worshiped him. And he taught them that no one else will ever save them from their suffering, and that he alone is the one who can make them happy, and that he will give them peace upon the earth. His power came like the unending fog of the dust which is in the darkest parts of the universe, where the stars shine not, and where the radiance of all things has hidden its face from the mind of every living thing.
His power grew bitter, his countenance was crooked, his will, poisoned with the wickedness of pride. He expanded his kingdom, and he conquered many nations, and he subjugated many peoples. He murdered his enemies, and all those who spoke against him. His hands were the frenzy of madness on the wild days of the haunted valley. His hands were nothing but ever growing shades and patterns of cruelty. And every step of his feet, and every thought of his heart, was evil continually. He had no continuity with the sufferings of others. Soon, in his boastfulness, he no longer believed in the humanity of others. Himself alone, as he looked upon himself in the river, was the only true human, the only one who could feel pain. Others were not real, but figments of the universe before him so that he could conquer them, as they to him were merely flesh. His wife to him was merely chattel, and her value only in his pleasure.
Soon, some among the peoples saw that his evil was unspeakable. Though even those few were surprised that the man they once loved as a hero was merely the bright lights of violence, and the sickening engines of cruelty. But their hearts held a firm conviction against the masses, and they knew that they were right.
They organized a rebellion. And they took support from foreign nations. By the time they fought against him, he had slain millions, and tormented countless others. But the fools of the land continued in their worship, and they thought his plans wise, as they were told by him that they were special, and that they were a people beholden with the only light in themselves, and that they were the greatest people of all the earth.
Soon the resistance, and the foreign powers united. And they waged war by the gray field. And the dusk was soaked in the horror of the killings. And the earth wept and the blood united itself into the fabric of time. Julius was a friend of Parmetheus from the time of their youths. Yet Julius had now seen that evil had overtaken his friend. On the field of battle they confronted one another. Soon, the power of Parmetheus was reduced to weakness.
Then Parmetheus said to Julius, “Dear friend, spare my life, do not kill me! Please dear Julius, my beloved, my good friend, remember the charity which we had between us when we were young! For we were like leaping deer in the soft meadow by the light of the green! The world unfolded before us with the kindness of the light, and the air gave us color so that each of the things before us was wrapped in splendor and in joy! The loveliness of the ages were there with us by the stream! For I am not a man of wickedness, but rather a heart of charity. Remember the good works of my youth and the love which all the fields had for the strength of my feet! Remember my great beauty and the dignity of my ancestors! Remember the great works of my mind in the studies of my youth! For I am a man of wisdom, and my soul is kindness. If you remember it not, then may the hands of all the world be a curse to you! May the shades of every night be your bitterness! May the fields of all the lands remove their produce, and leave you in ruin! And let all the hours of your life stand before you at once like a horror! For you would have betrayed a dear friend. And you would have taken the blood out from the world, and you would have left it cold to die, limp and weeping, like a child murdered in the night.”
Julius said to Parmetheus, “If you had turned from the wicked thoughts of your youth then I would have given you the seal upon which is written the composition of life itself. I alone first saw the wickedness emerging in your heart when the world saw it not, and I was terrified to have seen it. For I would have folded the hammer and the meadow for you, and I would have given you any gift under heaven itself. And in the morning, I would have had song with the heavens above as they would have bestowed upon us the gift of wisdom. For in all this, in theory these things are fair, just at this time, as you beseech me to give you the crown of life. Yet you have not been found true to the theory of my youth. And so I tell you that death is the course of nature’s composition, yet you keep it not when words are so pure that they are in love forever like the fire that brings light to humankind. For its dawn is like the night of the magi and the eye of the pyramid. Sing beneath forever and let the river be your heart; yet you have sold your heart to pride and you have given it forever to dishonor. For this is what we could have had between us, this secret wisdom, this secret song, for Arthur has found the Holy Grail, and Zeus the throne of Poseidon, for they each remembered an hour, and a slice of glass, where the universe was held together, and they did these things by some purity of the soul which is yet to us unknown, but together we could have found it. Yet dear Parmetheus there is a chasm between us which is too great for me to give you this crown of life. And so I must kill you here on the field of battle. For there is an evil upon your name which is too heavy for me to bestow upon you the gift of such wisdom as more years would surely bring you. Now the earth stammers with the heavy weight of your iniquity. Relinquish the terror of your heart, hold your peace, and be forever in the river of death. For you have cursed us all like blood falling from the hemlock tree. You have betrayed us all, for you have the knife of Brutus and the lips of Iscariot. My heart is weak and mortal, yet it is resting for us in all things divine. The courage in me will slay you though I weep over that face behind which was once my friend who is now dead already. For you have betrayed all values which I hold dear, and for this you to me are merely a corpse in my reckoning. When you were young you were seen as the most noble of men. Yet from thy youth the thoughts of your heart were nothing save evil though the world saw it not. Go forth now to the dust of your perfect dishonor, and go forth now into the frost and into the ice of this eternal death before you!”
(Julius kills Parmetheus)
(Assistant of Parmetheus kills Julius)
(Regus, friend of Julius, kills assistant to Parmetheus)
(Parmetheus's forces are defeated)
Then Regus, said this above his friend who had perished, “Here on this mighty eve before sweet liberty, I have lost the true hero of our time, dear Julius, for his mind seemed dull and his flesh weak, yet he is the hero of this hour, the king of this age, the throne of love’s reign, and the spark of this day everlasting. For he has failed in worldly honor, and yet I have lost in him the mantle of the wisdom of the ages. His flesh has fallen into great sleep and it has withheld its violence forever. Great power and the brilliance of the mind cannot replace, nor can it withhold, the purity of the spirit, the depth of the heart, and the intensity of one’s purpose; for it is these which are the bread of life. Forever is our wealth which is not truly wealth but is rather the compositions of our purpose. For it is that firmness of the heart which once again makes all things pure.”