The Ides of March

Received from Jonathan

The Ides of March: Et tu, Brute? Now, if you want to know how to avoid the devil of gluttony - that horrible, clawed, hairy devil with fearsome horns and long ears, and a massive tongue hammered thin as "a banana leaf dried crisp in the sun" by the Crochemort blacksmith, then you must listen to CyborgShaman...And if you want to know how to make your fortune, as Ti-zeb did when he set out with nothing in his pocket but one of those delicious fritters called accras, then you must learn to walk along as he did: "double-time, triple-time, taking smaller steps so he could take more of them". And you must be as resourceful (and tricky, too, I'm afraid to say) as he was. If you are the sort who would run away as fast as your legs could carry you when the Story-Teller lets loose "mobs of snakes, spiders, skinks and fat, brown mabouyas", then I'm afraid you will miss a treat. Because, whilst pimply girls with "the biggest of bad tempers" are getting their just deserts, Aubrey, the beautiful one, and Jonathan, "a sensitive and vindictive soul", naturally do pretty well for themselves. But if they do live happily ever after, CyborgShaman is certainly not going to guarantee it.
Once upon a time there came a shaman marching along the road, kicking up a little cloud of dust at each step--as strapping and merry and bright-eyed a fellow as you would wish to see in a summer day. Tramp! tramp! tramp! he marched, whistling as he jogged along, though he carried a heavy bag over his shoulder and though the sun shone hot and strong and there was never a tree in sight to give him a bit of shelter. Suddenly: It is I," said he, "and I am King of the Wind, and ten times greater than the greatest of kings here below. One day I saw you walking in your garden and fell in love with you, and now I have come to ask you if you will marry me..."HUH?" retorted the shocked shaman and ran deep into the cover of the nearest forest...and there he heard: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your soul. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” "What are my lord's commands?"said the shaman, in a voice that would shake the marrow of the an onhearer's bones.
And the shaman thought: "Substance, meaning without feeling, feeling without meaning, strange words written on billboards to tell the masses what to think..I must away...!"
Surely, a trillion species populate known space! From the greatest AI Gods through vast numbers of greater and lesser gods, godlets, and transingularity hyperturing and posthuman entities, and beneath them a seemingly limitless number of species of humans, droids, aioids, splices, uplifts, neogens, alifes, aliens, the Sentient life of the galaxy is nothing if not diverse...SO WHY ME??!
In the cerulean skies of The Shaman's Abode, a soaring falcon surveys the world beneath with a patient eye. Below the sun-kissed citadels of ivory and coral hue have awoken to yet another glorious day. The Lord of Rays had once again smiled upon them, bestowing them with light and warmth. Once again the tops of the pyramids erupt, drenching the hearts of the faithful with the joyful patina of The Solar Aria. (You are the Sun, I am the Moon, you are the words, I am the tune...play me!) Every evening, following their prayer, the singers and musicians would compose yet another original piece with which to praise their God. Every morning they would seem to reach their zenith, only to stand atop the capped-pyramid the very next day with a piece yet again more stirring and sonorous than ever before...and so be it forevermore :)