Once the car was in the air, Jubal asked, "What do you think, Mike?"
Mike frowned, "I don't understand."
"It's not just you, boy. What did the Bishop say to you?"
Mike hesitated for a long time, "Jubbal, my brother, I have to think hard before I can reach enlightenment."
"Just think about it, boy."
Jill said: "Jubbal, how could they get away with it?"
"What fooling around?"
"All of it. It's not a church—it's a madhouse."
"No, Jill. It is indeed the Church . . . the logical eclecticism of our time."
"what?"
"New revelations are nothing new. Neither First nor Digby innovated at all. They threaded a bunch of well-worn tricks together, painted them fresh, and hit the ground running. And the business was booming. In my lifetime , we might see it become compulsory for everyone - that's what worries me."
"Oh no!"
"Oh, yes. Hitler was worse off than they were when he came out, and all he was selling was hatred. As long as it's not a one-shot deal, it's much safer to sell happiness. I know that best, but that's how I scam money. Didn't Digby remind me just now?" Jubal grimaced, "I should have slapped him, but I liked what he said. That's why I'm afraid of him. He's smart. He knows people want What. Joy. Guilt and fear had made the world miserable for a century, and now Digby was telling them that there was nothing to fear, in this life or in the next, and that God commanded them to be happy. He repeated, every day So: don't be afraid, be happy."
"Well, there's nothing wrong with that," Jill admitted. "He's been working hard. But—"
"Nonsense! He's trying to act."
"No, I think he's really religious, he's giving everything to—"
"I said, 'Bullshit!' Jill, the concept of 'altruism' is the worst of all the nonsense that twists the world. People only do what they want to do, that's all. If you do something They feel pain in making the decision - if the decision seems like a 'sacrifice' - you must understand that this pain is no nobler than the pain caused by greed... If you can't have both, you have to give up one, That's all. The average person is miserable every time he chooses, whether to use the dollar to buy a beer or save it for the children? To get up and go to work or lose his job? He will always choose the less pain or more happiness. That one. Scoundrel and saint are just choices on a larger scale. Like Digby. Saint or scoundrel, he's not some kind of slob who's stuck all day long."
"Which one do you think he is, Jubal?"
"Is there a difference?"
"Oh, Jubal, your cynicism is nothing but an airing! Of course there is a difference."
"Well, yes, there's a difference. I hope he's a scoundrel... because a saint can cause ten times as much trouble. Cancel that last sentence—you'll have to put a 'cynicism' label on it, as if that would Prove it wrong. Jill, what is it about these rituals that disturbs you?"
"This...all the places. You're not going to tell me that counts as worship."
"That is, they're not the same as the little brown church you attended when you were a kid? Wake up, Jill, St. Peter's and Mecca aren't like the church you were a kid in."
"Yeah, but—well, that's not what they do! Snake dance... slot machines... and a bar! And not a classy bar!"
"I guess prostitutes are just as tasteless."
"Uh?"
"When you're worshiping the gods, it's as funny as it is at other times, I think. As for the snake dance, have you ever seen a Shaker worship service? I haven't either. The anti-sexual church won't grow Yes, but there is a long history of dancing to the glory of God. No artistry is required - the Shakers will never be able to make a ballet at the Bolshoi Theater - just enthusiasm is enough. Do you think Indian prayers Is Yuwu not respectful enough to the gods?"
"That's different."
"Nothing is the same - but the more people change, the more they look alike. Take the slot machines - haven't you seen bingo in church?"
"Well... seen it. We use it for collections in the parish. But only on Friday nights; we don't do it at church."
"Oh? Reminds me of a woman who thinks she's virtuous—only sleeps with other men when her husband is out."
"Jubal, these two things are far apart!"
"Perhaps. Analogy is more elusive than logic. Still, 'Little Lady'—"
"Don't you dare to say it again with a playful smile!"
"Just kidding. Jill, if a thing is sinful to do on Sunday, it's also sinful on Friday—at least I'm so enlightened, and maybe people from Mars think the same way. In my opinion Come on, the only difference is that even if you lose, the Fosters will give you a scripture for free. Can your bingo cards also do this?"
"Fake scriptures! Newly revealed fake scriptures. Boss, have you read that stuff?"
"Read."
"Then you should know. Biblical language, some cloyingly sweet, more pure nonsense . . . and some downright obnoxious."
Jubal was silent for a long time, and finally asked: "Jill, are you familiar with the holy scriptures of India?"
"I'm afraid I don't understand much."
"What? Or other famous religious books? I can use the words in the Bible to prove my point, but I don't want to hurt your feelings."
"No, just say it."
"Well, I'll just give you an example from the Old Testament. It's generally not that annoying to find fault with it. Do you know the story of Sodom and Gomorrah? When Yahweh destroyed those evil cities, The story of how Rott was saved?"
"Oh, of course. His wife was turned into a pillar of salt."
"I always feel that this punishment is too harsh. But we are talking about Rot. Peter described him as a righteous, God-fearing, righteous man, and the dirty words of the villains made him angry St. Peter can be regarded as the authority of virtue, isn’t he given the key to enter the kingdom of heaven? But why is Lott set up as a model? He listened to his brother’s wishes and divided up a pasture. Captured and finally rescued to escape from the city and save his own life. He provided food and shelter to two strangers, but his behavior showed that he knew that the two were VIPs— —and in my own opinion, if he thought they were mere common beggars, his hospitality would be more admirable. Apart from these things and St. Peter's character guarantee, there is only one thing in the Bible that can make us Judge Roth's virtue—so great that an angel interceded for him and saved his life. Go and read Genesis XIX, verse 8."
"What did your boss say?"
"See for yourself. I don't expect you to believe me."
"Jubbal! I've never met such a provoking person as you."
"And you're a very pretty girl, so I don't mind your ignorance. All right—but you'll have to see for yourself later. Rotter's neighbors knock on his door, demanding to see these outlanders. Rotter Without arguing, he made a deal. He had two daughters, both virgins by his own account. He told the thugs that he would give them the girls and they could use them as they liked - a gang rape .He begged them to do anything to them...just stop knocking on his door."
"Jubal...is that what the boss said?"
"I've modernized the language, but the meaning is as unmistakable as a whore's wink. Rotter proposes that a gang of men—'old and young,' the Bible says—molest two young I just hope they don't smash their doors down. Hey!" Jubal suddenly beamed, "The last time the Secret Service came to smash my door, why didn't I think of trying this trick! It might make me Going to heaven." He frowned again, "No, the prescription calls for an 'undamaged virgin'—I don't know which of you girls is qualified."
"Hmph! Anyway, don't try to find out from me."
"Forget it, Roth could have been wrong, anyway, he promised so. His own daughter, virgin, young, weak, full of fear. He encouraged the gang to rape them... just leave him alone Just do it!" Jubal snorted, "The Bible calls such a scoundrel a 'righteous man'."
Jill said slowly, "That's not how it's taught in Sunday school."
"Damn it, go see for yourself! Just read the Bible and you'll find plenty of surprises. Just say Elisha. It's said that Elisha is so holy that just touching his bones can bring a dead man back to life Come here. He's a bald old fool, like myself. One day the kids made fun of his bald head, just like you girls make fun of me, so God sent two bears and pulled forty-two kids In bloody splinters. That's what it says in the Bible—2 Kings, chapter two."
"Boss, I never made fun of your bald head."
"Who gave my name to those regrowth liars? God knows whoever it is—she better keep her eyes open for a big bear. The bible is full of stuff like that, see To make your stomach sick, it is said that it is all commanded by God, or forgiven by God... Of course, I have to admit that there are also some unquestionable common sense and feasible social behavior rules in it. I am not denigrating the "Bible". It's not like Hinduism after all, it's a patch on a pile of porn crap called the holy scriptures. There are a dozen other religions like Hinduism. But I don't condemn them either; there is a chance that one of these myths is actually God's holy word...maybe god is crazy ripping kids to shreds for being rude to their priests. don't ask me what the policy is, i'm just a laborer. what i mean is, as far as the holy scriptures Forster's New Revelation is sweet and bright. Archbishop Digby's Patronus is a good old man who wants everyone to be happy--happy while you're alive and happy forever in heaven. He doesn't expect you to keep your body Purity. Oh no! The economy is too profitable. If you like to drink, gamble, dance, and have sex—then come to church and do it under the protection of God. Do what you like, your conscience You can sit back and relax. Have fun, have fun! Be happy!"
Jubal looked unhappy, "Of course, none of this is free. Digby's God asks you to acknowledge him. Anyone who refuses to be happy in his way is a sinner and deserves it no matter what happens. But then again , is the law of all the gods; don't blame First and Digby. Their panacea is orthodox in every way."
"Boss, you seem to have believed half of it."
"Me? No! I don't like the snake dance, I despise crowds, and I don't want some idiot telling me where to go on Sunday. I'm just against you criticizing them for the wrong reasons. When it comes to classics, the level of New Revelation It's mediocre. Not surprising, it's a plagiarism from other scriptures. As for the internal logic, secular norms don't apply to sacred texts - but at this point, you can't deny the New Revelation It is indeed superior; it hardly bites its own tail, there is no contradiction. It is not easy, look how contradictory the "Old Testament" and "New Testament", Buddhist teachings and "New Testament" Got it. As for the morals taught by Forster, it's just sugar-coated Freudian ethics, tailor-made for people who don't understand psychology, although I doubt the old perverts who write these things-sorry, should say' The one who wrote the holy scriptures inspired by the apocalypse"—I didn't know it had such effects. First is not a scholar, but he is indeed in the tune of the times. How do you say? In the spirit of the times? Fear, Guilt, loss of faith — it's all there, it's hard not to see it. Shut up now, I'm going to take a nap."
"Who is it that's talking all the time?"
Jubal closed his eyes, "."
They return home to find that Ben Caxton and Mahmed are also coming for the weekend.Jill's absence disappoints Ben, but he manages to get by with Anne, Miriam and Dorcas by his side.Mahmed always claimed that he had come to see Mike and Dr. Harshaw; but he was stoic even though he saw only Harshaw's food, wine, gardens--and slave girls.Miriam rubbed his back and Dorcas massaged his head.
Jubal looked at him, "Don't get up."
"Can't get up, she's sitting on top of me. Hi, Mike."
"Hi, my brother alcoholic, Dr. Mahmed." Mike greeted Ben solemnly again, and asked everyone to excuse him.
"Go, kid," Jubal told him.
Annie asked, "Mike, have you had lunch yet?"
He solemnly replied: "Annie, I'm not hungry. Thank you." Then he turned and walked into the house.
Mahmed rolled over, almost causing Miriam to fall. "Jubbal, why are our children so troubled?"
"Let him go. Religious overdose." Jubal briefly recounted the morning's events.
Mahmed frowned. "Is it necessary to leave him alone with Digby? It seems to me—forgive me, my brother—unwise."
"Drunkard, he's got to learn to deal with that. You preached theology to him too—he told me. Can you give me even one reason why Digby shouldn't be given a chance? Give me a scientist's." answers, not Muslims."
"For any question, I can only give Muslim answers." Dr. Mahmed said calmly.
"I understand you, but I don't agree. Sorry."
"Jubbal, when I say 'Muslim', I use that in its exact sense, not the sect that Marian mistakenly called 'Muhammadanism'."
"I'll keep saying it until you learn to say 'Miriam'! It's awkward."
"Yes, Marianne. Ouch! Women are not supposed to be so strong. Jubal, as a scientist, I count Michael as a treasure in my career; Willing...I am happy for him, even though there are still many difficulties. He has not yet understood the meaning of 'God' in English," Mahmed shrugged, "or 'Allah' in Arabic, But as a man--and always as a servant of God--I love the boy, who is our adopted son and water brother. Even apart from creed, I think this Digby is a very bad influence. You how to think?"
"Hurray!" Ben clapped. "He's a nasty bastard--his private life is a mess. I didn't expose him in the column simply because the newspaper didn't have the guts. Drinker, if you keep talking, you'll One day I will learn Arabic and buy a felt."
"Hopefully. Felt isn't necessary."
Jubal sighed, "I agree with you. I'd rather see Mike smoking weed than being converted to Fosterism by Digby. But I don't think Mike will be fooled by that hodgepodge." . . . and he has to learn to deal with bad influences, too. I see you as a good influence, but you don't have more chance than Digby—the boy's mind is surprisingly strong."
"If it is God's will—" Mahmed replied.
"So, nothing to argue about," Jubal agreed.
"We were discussing religion before you went home," said Dorcas softly. "Boss, did you know that women have souls too?"
"really?"
"That's what the drunk said."
"Marian wants to know," Mahmed explained, "why we 'Muhammads' think only men have souls."
"Miriam, that misunderstanding is as vulgar as saying that Jews sacrifice Christian babies. Say, the whole family goes to heaven, man and woman together. In Psalm 70, right, drunkard?"
"'Enter the garden, you and your wives, and enjoy yourself there.' can only go so far in English," Mahmed said.
"But," Miriam said, "I heard that the men of their Mohammad religion seem to have many beautiful virgins in heaven, and it seems that there is no place for their wives."
"The Beauties of Heaven are like genies and angels," Jubal says, "a completely different creation. They're inherently spiritual, so they don't need a soul. Eternal, unchanging, and beautiful. There are male Beauties, or something like that. ...they don't have to work hard to get to heaven; because they're there to work. They serve delicious food, serve wine that won't give you a hangover, and entertain you as you want. And the wives' souls go to heaven. Don't have to work. That's right, drunkard?"
"It's close, but the words are too flippant to be appropriate. Paradise Beauty—" He sat up suddenly, throwing Miriam to the ground, "By the way! Maybe you girls really don't have souls!"
Miriam said bitterly: "What, you ungrateful fellow! Take that back!"
"Be quiet, Marianne. If you don't have a soul, you're not dead anyway. Jubal...is it possible for a man to be dead without himself noticing?"
"Not sure. Never tried."
"Maybe I've died on Mars and dreamed I was home? Look around you! A garden the Prophet himself would have envied, four beautiful beauties of heaven, always offering delicious food and intoxicating wine .If you insist, there are even male heavenly beauties. Isn't this really heaven?"
"I promise not," Jubal reassured him, "because I'll have to pay taxes again soon."
"But it doesn't affect me."
"Besides, these heavenly beauties—even if we assume they're pretty enough, after all, beauty is in the eye of the beholder—"
"They're pretty enough."
"And you have to pay for what you just said, boss." Miriam added.
"—but," Jubal pointed out, "the Paradise Belle must have one more essential attribute."
"Um—" Mahmed mused, "We don't need to delve into that aspect. Things in heaven have spirits, not temporary physical forms. Right?"
"If that's the case," Jubal said flatly, "I'm sure these aren't beauties in heaven."
Mahmad sighed, "Then I have to persuade one to convert to Allah."
"Why one? In some places, can't you fill up the quota?"
"No, my brother. You cannot do justice with more than one, though the Law permits four, according to the wise Word of the Prophet."
"What a relief. Which one?"
"Let's see. Marianne, do you feel spiritual?"
"Go to hell! What a 'paradise beauty'!"
"Jill?"
"Please," Ben protested, "Jill I'm after you."
"Then let's talk about it later, Jill Anne?"
"Sorry. I have an appointment."
"Dorcas? You are my last hope."
"Drunkard," Dorcas said softly, "tell me, how spiritual do you want me to be?"
Mike went upstairs to his room, closed the door, and lay down on the bed, curled up in a fetal position, his eyes rolled up, his heart slowing.Jill didn't like it when he did it in the daytime, but she didn't mind it as long as he didn't do it in front of people—there were lots of things he couldn't do in front of people, but this was the only thing that made her mad.He'd been waiting since leaving that room that had gone horribly wrong;
He did something that Jill had forbidden him to do—
His human instincts wanted to comfort himself that he was being forced, but his Martian training didn't allow him to escape like that.He came to the point where the right course of action was imperative and he had to make a choice.He realizes he's taken the right action, but his water brother Jill forbids the choice—
But then there is no choice.This is paradoxical; at critical points, choice arises; through choice, spiritual growth.
Would Jill approve of it if he had taken other actions and hadn't wasted food?
No, Jill's ban included that variable, he realized.
At this time, this creature derived from human genes and shaped by Martian thinking, this alien who can never truly become an Earthling or a Martian, has completed a stage of growth.He has broken through the barrier and is no longer a brood.Free will was doomed, and the loneliness it brought was his own from now on.Accompanied by the tranquility of the Martians.He is to embrace it, to cherish it, to taste its bitterness, to accept its consequences.In the joy of sorrow, he realized that the pivot point belonged to him, not Jill.His water brothers can teach, admonish, and guide, but choices on key points cannot be shared.This is an ownership that cannot be sold, gifted, or mortgaged; the owner and the property are indivisible together.He is what he does at key points, now and forever.
Now that he has realized that he is an ego, Mike can finally grow spiritually close relatives with the water brothers, blending with each other without getting in each other's way.Past, present and future, the integrity of the self is always present.Mike pauses to cherish all his fraternal egos: water brothers on Mars (many perfect threes, some disintegrated, some still solid) Earth's few, but no less precious.There are countless forces on the earth that he does not yet understand, but he will merge with these forces and cherish them, because after a long wait, he finally realizes and cherishes himself.
Mike continued to wander; there were so many things to tap into, so many threads that had to fit into his growth.Everything he had seen, heard, and known in Archangel Foster Chapel had to be pondered (not just his private face-to-face with Digby).Why did the Bishop of Boone make him uneasy, why Miss Dawn Arden smelled like a water brother when she was not a water brother, and why he smelled it amidst the bouncing up and down and howling of the crowd? Good smell, this point is still not fully realized——
Jubal's words came and went in his head--Jubal's were the ones that puzzled him most; builds a bridge between the language in which he begins to learn to think and the language in which he begins to learn to think.One of the trickiest words Jubal used to refer to was "church"; there was no Martian equivalent—unless you put together "church," "worship," "God," "meeting," and many others , converting them into everything in the only world he knew during most of the growing-waiting period... and finally compressing this concept into that sentence in English.However, neither Jubal, Mahmed nor Digby rejected that sentence (albeit for different reasons).
"You are God." He had been able to understand its English meaning more deeply (it could never have the same inevitability as the corresponding concept of Mars).In his mind, he spoke English sentences and Martian words at the same time, feeling a deeper insight.Like a Taoist student, he kept telling himself that the treasure was in the lotus flower where he crossed his legs and passed into Nirvana.
Before midnight, Mike let his heart beat faster, returned to normal breathing rate, checked every part of his body, and then stretched his limbs and sat up.He had been exhausted before, but now he felt relaxed, happy and refreshed.Countless actions were presented before his eyes, and he was ready.
He felt like a puppy craving the company of others to the same extent as his previous need for solitude.When he walked into the hall, he happened to meet a water brother, which made him very happy. "Hi!"
"Oh. How are you, Mike. My God, you're more refreshed."
"I feel great! What's everyone doing?"
"Sleep. Ben and the drunk went home an hour ago, and then everyone started going to bed."
"Oh." Mahmed's absence made Mike a little disappointed, and he wanted to explain his new enlightenment to him.
"I was going to bed too, but suddenly I wanted something to eat. Are you hungry?"
"Of course, starving!"
"Come on, there's some cold chicken in the kitchen, let's go see if there's anything else." They went downstairs to fill up a tray full of food, "Go outside, it's warm."
"Good idea," Mike said.
"It's so warm you can swim - a real Indian summer. I'm going to turn on the lights."
"No," Mike replied, "I'll serve the plate." In almost total darkness Mike could see.Mike realizes that Jubal's luminous eyes are mostly the result of the environment he grew up in, but he also realizes that it's not the only reason; the Martians who adopted him taught him how to see.As for the mild weather, he was just as comfortable naked on Mount Everest, but his water brethren struggled with changes in temperature and pressure; having discovered this, Mike has always been considerate of everyone's weaknesses.Still, he looked forward to the snowy day.He had read in books that each crystallization of the eaux-de-vie was a unique individual.He is eager to see snowflakes with his own eyes, to walk barefoot on the snow, to roll and play in the snow.
"Okay, take the tray. I'll go and turn on the light at the bottom of the pool. That's enough light for eating."
"Okay." Mike liked the way the lights cut through the water; it was good, beautiful.They had a picnic by the pool, then lay on the grass and looked at the stars.
"Mike, look, Mars. That's Mars, right? Or Antares?"
"It's Mars."
"Mike, what are you doing on Mars right now?"
Mike hesitated for a moment; the question was too broad for poor English. "On the horizon-facing end—the southern hemisphere—it's spring; people are teaching plants to grow."
"Teach plants to grow?"
He hesitated for a moment, "Larry also taught plants to grow, and I helped him. But my people—I mean the Martians; I now realize that you are my people too—use a different method. In the other hemisphere, the weather is getting colder and colder, and those nymphs that have survived the summer are brought into the nest to speed up and grow further." He thought for a while, "Among the humans we left on the equator, one disintegrated, and the others very sad."
"Yes, I heard it on the news."
Mike wasn't listening to the news; in fact, he didn't know anything about it before the question. "They shouldn't be sad. Mr. Booker T. W. Jones, First Class Food Technician, isn't sad; the old spirits have cherished him."
"You know him?"
"Yes. He has his own face, dark and beautiful. But he's homesick."
"Oh my God! Mike... are you homesick too? Mars?"
"In the beginning," he replied, "I've always been lonely." He rolled over to her and put his arms around her, "but now I'm not alone. I realize I'll never be alone again gone."
"Mike darling—" They kissed, then continued.
Soon, his water brother gasped and said, "Oh, my God! It's even better than the first time."
"Are you all right, my brother?"
"Yes. Absolutely true. Kiss me again."
After a while—judging by universal standards—she asked, "Mike? Well, I said, do you know how—that?"
"I know. It's for growing closeness. Now we're growing close."
"Oh... I'm ready—God, we're all ready, but... let's not talk about that, honey. Turn around a little bit. I'll help you."
They intertwined and merged, and their spiritual understanding became closer.Mike whispered triumphantly, "You are God."
She did not answer in words.Later, when their epiphany brought them closer and Mike felt himself almost ready to disintegrate, her voice called him back: "Oh! . . . Oh! You are God!"
"We understand God."
Notes:
Notes: