Читать книгу CURSE of the HOLY ARK - Ted Miller III - Страница 8

As the Old and New Testaments charted the future fate of its followers, the new message of our time would tell not what life is, but what it isn’t.

Our lunch meeting was much more alive than our first morning meeting which was only intended to help form our team and solidify our spirit. Several of the team of twelve had complained of feeling slightly seasick and nauseous, which after a quick trip by the ship’s doctor they were reassured that a little Dramamine, or for the naturalists in our group some ginger-root would settle their stomachs. Some of the others expressed how great they felt, which was ruled caused by the fresh sea air and the emotional relief of being on a great cruise instead of battling the traffic and masses of the great unwashed back home. No one thought they were brainwashed or drugged. All or almost all of the authors did believe that this was the most enjoyable and highly profitable piece of work they had ever been associated with.

This meeting was held by the pool with a long table to the side filled with food and drink and thirteen overstuffed deck chairs placed about in a circle with clipboards and pens next to each on a small cedar side table.

Everyone was on time, because each had been escorted by their own personal assistant who also functioned as a handler. When all were comfortably settled in their surroundings, with drinks by their sides, I started off this meeting with the same silent prayer I would say for the next thirty days.

“Please, God, guide our hearts, heads and hands in the righteous path to create a paradise.” Although I am sure that some of the writers closest to me might have seen my lips moving to my words of worship, no one questioned me as to the what or why fores.

“Gentlemen, we are gathered here to start the creation of a new book.” I looked each man in the eye as I spoke and saw none of the drugged delirium that accompanied my earlier delivery, but everyone did wonder what the orange nerf ball in my hands was about. As I squeezed the ball’s soft surface I explained, “You twelve are without a doubt the highest selling and now the highest paid authors of the world and as such deserve the service and surroundings you are now ensconced within. But to maintain some sense of decorum, direction and discipline at these meetings, only the person holding the ball is allowed to speak. I know that to some of you this might seem silly, but each and every one of you has valuable contributions to make in the direction and style of our endeavor, and I want all of us to be able to fully appreciate what each other has to say. So please don’t think of me as a lecture hall disciplinarian, but more of a coach who wants to hand off this ball.

And as I saw in their eyes the sense of the game, I first threw the soft ball to Philip the Evangelist who was sitting to the right of me. His leg was still in a cast from the car accident that broke it while he was walking by the side of the road and had been struck by an automobile. He had sold more books than anyone else in the world, and we really didn’t know how he would take to playing second fiddle to a story line that had already been set to musical movement. His voice was well trained from his earlier years of teaching high school English as he said, “First of all, I want to thank our benefactors for me being here with my wife, family and amongst friends. This is a long way from Maine or our home in Florida and we all are very happy and for a change feel absolutely safe.

His sense of graciousness sort of surprised me because I always imagined he would be a bit stuck up due to his success. But then he smiled at me as if he could read my thoughts as he continued on.

“I’ve worked on joint projects before with a co-writer, but this is the first time I have ever heard of a project this size and scope and employing the amount of talent I find myself surrounded by.” He took a breath while squeezing the ball and said, “I do hope this is going to be as much fun and far fetching for all of you as it will be for me.”

With that said he passed the ball to his right and having set the tone each and every writer joined their mutual appreciation society and declared their respect and admiration for each other’s work. These words of praise had been heard before at the earlier dinner party, so next I reassured them about our direction as the ball was passed back to me after all twelve had their public say.

I took a deep breath and started my speech. “As the coach of your team I have studied all of your skills, and the assignments and direction I set are based upon what will make this team succeed. But first we each must understand what game it is we need to win.”

As I looked about the team of twelve I began to realize that this sales job might not be as difficult as what I first thought. After all, these authors are participating in a project that echoes what they really like to do. They are highly paid professionals with all the assistance they wish. There is no great pressure upon them to individually produce, because this is a joint project. They all had survived or enjoyed the dramas or delights that first encouraged them to join in this journey. And why not do a great job? They are being paid $100,000 a day to escape the evils that invaded their hometowns and do what they enjoy best … write without worries.

I returned to my original premise and continued on. “The game we play is to transcend the truth and end the terrors that threaten to kill off civilization as we know it.”

I knew I was getting wound up for the delivery I was about to pitch at my players, but I couldn’t help myself. “Every day wars are being fought over power, land, energy, gold or to obtain the riches of others without the work or worship they paid to originally gain it. Sometimes it is just one thief stealing from another and other times it is a bully stealing from the weak. But even if you add all of these causes of chaos together, they do not equal the dead of the wars fought in God’s name.”

I could see I struck a note of harmony with this gang of twelve as I looked about at each face. “In God’s name we pray to perish our foes and reward our friends. We pray to Him to protect our way of life and bless our country’s currency. To me, it is obvious that only His words will bring about a new way of life and liberty.”

I pushed my point onward. “Others use their interpretations of God’s words to further their causes and terrorists misconstrue His message to commit murders. The churches have commercialized or incorporated the Messiah’s plan for mankind by talking you into trading your smarts or silver for a false sense of salvation.” As eyebrows started to rise, I raised my voice. “The Lord’s lessons have been legislated into outright lies or lush liberties with our lucre or love. Look at the state of the world’s peoples. I am not saying that the entire population of our planet is born dumb on purpose, but the vast majority of mankind still misspells the three R’s as reading, riting and rythmatic and furthermore rhyming means more than reason. Smart people are ridiculed and labeled as rebels or racists and are being smothered in a sea of stupidity.”

Some of the twelve now had their jaws hung open in abated amazement, while in others’ eyes I saw the look of agreement. “Now is the time for us to move forward in our focus from entertaining into enlightenment.” As I saw a smirk, I closed my eyes and said, “And if any doubting Thomases are among you that think this is a joke, need I remind any of you that Scientology, one of the the fastest growing religions, got its start from a science fiction writer.”

I saw several heads nod in agreement or disgustingly shake side to side as if trying to still figure out how a sci-fi writer moved into the ranks of a messenger from the Messiah. My voice raised another level as I almost sang out, “We must unify and be united in our approach to create a new code of conduct for civilization to evolve into a more cosmic state of consciousness.” To borrow from another writer’s words of thoughts, if you grog what I say, then it probably never needed to be said. If you don’t understand what we are about to do, then you may never before have had the chance to. For you can be no more than what you know. But have no doubt or indecision for our words can and will change the world from warring into wonderment.”

I felt I held their attention in my hand, and I really didn’t care if it was the after effects of the drugs or a state of concentration created by the dogma of our days.

“But our words must go beyond letting our readers understand what we say. We must paint a picture with prose, prophesy and poetry to allow our audience to feel and experience the word play of each paragraph of this book to better their ways of living. The reader’s thoughts must become totally attuned and as one with our resounding words of wisdom, work and worship.”

Feeling a sense of agreement amongst the group, I felt like an evangelist preaching to the choir, and almost expected an amen or two as I continued on to continue on. “Just as the time was ripe for the teachings of Jesus to be carried to other cities on the roadways built by the Caesars, our message will be spread at the speed of light and travel around the world in minutes.”

Letting the group absorb what I said, I squeezed the ball and took a deep breath before saying next … “But we must be careful to have the entire story and backup first fully created so that our media message intending to bombard the masses of mankind into a more moral and just life, cannot be manipulated by money, might or murder.”

“The time is coming quickly for our word to be spread, because the people of the world are sick and tired of being sick and tired. The masses no longer wish to follow pill-popping philosophies or moneyed materialism and are starting again in earnest to search for spiritual answers to life’s ultimate questions.”

I started swaying side to side while the story poured out of me. “We will tell the people who they really are and why they are really here and fill their hearts, heads and hands with holy harmony. We will make mankind feel connected to something much larger than themselves. They will discover a synergy of a sense of self-being as one with the we in thee.”

My head was raised towards the heavens as I heard myself say, “People will understand that God’s temple is not just a building or a tabernacle or a nation. The people will fully grasp that God’s pulpit is the whole planet Earth.” I was passing the ball from hand to hand and watching the effects of my words. “We will unravel this story just like a ball of string or the D.N.A. which is intertwined in each of our beings. We will practice what we preach and solve the ancient riddle that the idolatry of any book is considered bibliolatry, and is banned by the Bible itself. We will study the failures and faults of other religions so we will not be doomed to make the same mistakes of those who have attempted the assimilation of the Almighty’s words to their own purpose.”

I lowered my voice to increase the impact of what I next said. “There is nothing we can do to change the past, but the future we hold in our hands. Each and every one of us has been blessed or cursed by our fame or imagination. This is the time and place when we will be more than our past writings have allowed us to be. The world is looking for a new way to live a better life, and we are here to help humanity survive its own foolishness.”

I stood tall and reached my arms towards the heavens and as a clergyman or cheerleader might minister to their flock or fans I delivered my final say.

“We will live the life of our Lord.”

“We will be the writers of our brave new world of work and worship.”

“We will become as one with the we in thee.”

And lowering my voice even further to a loud whisper, “… and when our pens run out of ink, we will all truly know that we didn’t make up a message, but rather rediscovered what the Lord really meant to say.”