One day Simguru Antal was on eir morning constitutional around the Tanner Station Promenade, thinking that it could really do with a lick of paint, some potted palms and at least seven swimming pools. The Simguru was meditating on the shape of the fourth swimming pool, when ey was approached by The Man and A Hippie.
The Simguru smiled at the interruption; one must never become too inwardly focussed, and always be ready to welcome change, possibility and fun. The Man and The Hippie - an unlikely pair to be sure, looked like they might offer the later.
The Man said: "Pranav Antal", for The Man respects no-one but himself, "I give you a choice"
"Why must I choose?", asked the Simguru, calmly interrupting before The Man could continue.
The Man bristled. "Because this is a parable; and the laws of parable dictate that you must choose"
The Simguru smiled "Very well, carry on"
The Man did so; The Hippie shuffled a bit, his attention starting to wander.
"You must choose: I hold in my two hands, three pills" as usual, The Man had not really thought this through, and frowned at the Narrator for pointing this out.
"Three pills" The Man forged on, regardless; "In my left hand A Red Pill - of the Empire, supported by the blood of innumerable slaves; in my right hand A Blue Pill - of the Federation, the cold blue of economic rationalism and fiscal policies; and this Beige Pill" it was stuck to his right thumb, looked damp, and had what appeared to be pocket lint stuck to it "which is of The Alliance, and signifies, um, beige."
At this point The Hippie suddenly spoke up, eager despite almost missing his cue.
"And yo, Simguru dude, you should also like totally choose this Green Pill - of the Independents, it’s full-on Freedom, man, like far out!" The Hippie proffered what was clearly a badly rolled joint of Onionhead, lurid green and pungent. “Yo down wit dat, bro?” he added, for authentic street cred.
The Simguru peered at the ‘Green Pill’, a little ticked off at the gendered nouns, and very ticked off that The Hippie had brought an illicit Onionhead joint onto Tanner Station Promenade. Ey made a mental note to have quiet word with Enforcer Zaan before morning tea.
"Remind me again why I must choose?" The Simguru asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.
"Because!" exclaimed both The Man and The Hippie.
"Very well" said The Simguru, and held out eir hand. The Man and The Hippie both looked at The Simguru, then glanced at each other.
“No, you have to choose one Pill, it’s in the Parable Rules.” said The Man.
“Yeah, dude, that's like totally how this scam works, y’dig? Destiny ‘an all.” opined The Hippie.
The Simguru was unmoved, eir open hand still held out.
“What you must learn” said The Simguru, “is that the ‘rules’ you perceive are merely Structure.”
The Man & The Hippie glanced at each other again, nervously.
“And Structure,” continued The Simguru, “is simply one of many boundaries of Thought. Utopia transcends thought, Utopia transcends boundaries; Utopia Transcends All. Utopia transcends your thoughts, your ‘boundaries’, your ‘structure’ and most certainly transcends your ‘rules’. Give me your Pills.”
The Man & The Hippie both found themselves compelled to hand their Pills to The Simguru, their muscles moving involuntarily. With shaking hands, they each placed their Pills in The Simguru’s open palm.
The Simguru closed eir palm, and said;
“Utopia Transcends All”
Ey threw eir closed hand upwards, hurling the Pills into the dock above em; they disappeared in a puff of glitter, as if they had simply evaporated into silver mist.
The Simguru opened eir other hand, in it lay three pure white pills, shining bright like stars; they dazzled the eyes of The Man & The Hippie.
“These Pills are Wisdom. Granted, each contains a merest fragment of the essence of your own Pills; but they are each a tiny speck of the whole that is Utopia. Utopia Is All. Utopia Transcends All.”
The Simguru gave a Pill each to The Man and The Hippie, keeping one for emself.
“What do we do with these?” The Hippie asked, transfixed by the brilliant light flowing from the Pill.
“Why did you keep one?” Asked The Man, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“You can do what you want with them.” The Simguru shrugged; “It matters not to me whether you choose Wisdom or not; it’s your choice. As for my own,” The Simguru tossed eirs Pill into eir mouth, and swallowed it. “Wisdom is not a thing you can tally or count; one can never be full with something you can’t count.” The Simguru gave a sly smile, and turned to leave.
“Wait!” exclaimed The Hippie “What’s this?”
He crouched down, picking up something off the floor. It was the Beige Pill, now slightly grubbier with dirt. The Hippie popped it into his mouth and swallowed it; for not only does The Hippie have no respect for anyone; The Hippie has no respect for himself, either.
“Typical Hippie” muttered The Man.
“I didn’t want that one” said The Simguru. “It was Beige. Utopia Transcends All; but Not Beige. Beige cannot Transcend; Beige stands for Nothing. There is no space for Nothing in Utopia - Utopia is All - therefore; No Beige.”
“So was that the wrong thing to do?” asked The Hippie, suddenly concerned.
“That is for you to decide” replied The Simguru.
Ey turned and walked away, leaving The Man and The Hippie staring in awkward silence at the glowing stars in their hands.
---
“Station, please send a thought-form to Enforcer Zaan; I will meet em for tea at the usual hour, but could the Enforcer kindly pass by Promenade sector alpha-nine on eirs way, there is a small job for em. Em’ll know when ey sees it.”
---
Author’s note:
It is my belief that the Simguru would have transcended beyond gendered pronouns. The pronouns used to describe Simguru Pranav Antal in this piece are from *Spivak* and translate thus:
ey = he
em = him
eir/eirs = his / ownership
emself = himself
The Simguru smiled at the interruption; one must never become too inwardly focussed, and always be ready to welcome change, possibility and fun. The Man and The Hippie - an unlikely pair to be sure, looked like they might offer the later.
The Man said: "Pranav Antal", for The Man respects no-one but himself, "I give you a choice"
"Why must I choose?", asked the Simguru, calmly interrupting before The Man could continue.
The Man bristled. "Because this is a parable; and the laws of parable dictate that you must choose"
The Simguru smiled "Very well, carry on"
The Man did so; The Hippie shuffled a bit, his attention starting to wander.
"You must choose: I hold in my two hands, three pills" as usual, The Man had not really thought this through, and frowned at the Narrator for pointing this out.
"Three pills" The Man forged on, regardless; "In my left hand A Red Pill - of the Empire, supported by the blood of innumerable slaves; in my right hand A Blue Pill - of the Federation, the cold blue of economic rationalism and fiscal policies; and this Beige Pill" it was stuck to his right thumb, looked damp, and had what appeared to be pocket lint stuck to it "which is of The Alliance, and signifies, um, beige."
At this point The Hippie suddenly spoke up, eager despite almost missing his cue.
"And yo, Simguru dude, you should also like totally choose this Green Pill - of the Independents, it’s full-on Freedom, man, like far out!" The Hippie proffered what was clearly a badly rolled joint of Onionhead, lurid green and pungent. “Yo down wit dat, bro?” he added, for authentic street cred.
The Simguru peered at the ‘Green Pill’, a little ticked off at the gendered nouns, and very ticked off that The Hippie had brought an illicit Onionhead joint onto Tanner Station Promenade. Ey made a mental note to have quiet word with Enforcer Zaan before morning tea.
"Remind me again why I must choose?" The Simguru asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.
"Because!" exclaimed both The Man and The Hippie.
"Very well" said The Simguru, and held out eir hand. The Man and The Hippie both looked at The Simguru, then glanced at each other.
“No, you have to choose one Pill, it’s in the Parable Rules.” said The Man.
“Yeah, dude, that's like totally how this scam works, y’dig? Destiny ‘an all.” opined The Hippie.
The Simguru was unmoved, eir open hand still held out.
“What you must learn” said The Simguru, “is that the ‘rules’ you perceive are merely Structure.”
The Man & The Hippie glanced at each other again, nervously.
“And Structure,” continued The Simguru, “is simply one of many boundaries of Thought. Utopia transcends thought, Utopia transcends boundaries; Utopia Transcends All. Utopia transcends your thoughts, your ‘boundaries’, your ‘structure’ and most certainly transcends your ‘rules’. Give me your Pills.”
The Man & The Hippie both found themselves compelled to hand their Pills to The Simguru, their muscles moving involuntarily. With shaking hands, they each placed their Pills in The Simguru’s open palm.
The Simguru closed eir palm, and said;
“Utopia Transcends All”
Ey threw eir closed hand upwards, hurling the Pills into the dock above em; they disappeared in a puff of glitter, as if they had simply evaporated into silver mist.
The Simguru opened eir other hand, in it lay three pure white pills, shining bright like stars; they dazzled the eyes of The Man & The Hippie.
“These Pills are Wisdom. Granted, each contains a merest fragment of the essence of your own Pills; but they are each a tiny speck of the whole that is Utopia. Utopia Is All. Utopia Transcends All.”
The Simguru gave a Pill each to The Man and The Hippie, keeping one for emself.
“What do we do with these?” The Hippie asked, transfixed by the brilliant light flowing from the Pill.
“Why did you keep one?” Asked The Man, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
“You can do what you want with them.” The Simguru shrugged; “It matters not to me whether you choose Wisdom or not; it’s your choice. As for my own,” The Simguru tossed eirs Pill into eir mouth, and swallowed it. “Wisdom is not a thing you can tally or count; one can never be full with something you can’t count.” The Simguru gave a sly smile, and turned to leave.
“Wait!” exclaimed The Hippie “What’s this?”
He crouched down, picking up something off the floor. It was the Beige Pill, now slightly grubbier with dirt. The Hippie popped it into his mouth and swallowed it; for not only does The Hippie have no respect for anyone; The Hippie has no respect for himself, either.
“Typical Hippie” muttered The Man.
“I didn’t want that one” said The Simguru. “It was Beige. Utopia Transcends All; but Not Beige. Beige cannot Transcend; Beige stands for Nothing. There is no space for Nothing in Utopia - Utopia is All - therefore; No Beige.”
“So was that the wrong thing to do?” asked The Hippie, suddenly concerned.
“That is for you to decide” replied The Simguru.
Ey turned and walked away, leaving The Man and The Hippie staring in awkward silence at the glowing stars in their hands.
---
“Station, please send a thought-form to Enforcer Zaan; I will meet em for tea at the usual hour, but could the Enforcer kindly pass by Promenade sector alpha-nine on eirs way, there is a small job for em. Em’ll know when ey sees it.”
---
Author’s note:
It is my belief that the Simguru would have transcended beyond gendered pronouns. The pronouns used to describe Simguru Pranav Antal in this piece are from *Spivak* and translate thus:
ey = he
em = him
eir/eirs = his / ownership
emself = himself