It was the time of extraordinary men. Men who came to tame the woods. Men who set the huffing and puffing steel snakes to imprison prairies. Men who came in disguise. Black robes covering veins hungry for gold. Thieves dressed in the clothes of academics. Accountants styled as poets. They dug deep into the Mother – they played with old magics where desk men conjured numbers and made mystic calculations about who might live and who must die.
In that time of extraordinary men, we learned that caves
were dirty, smelly and uncivilized. Stone was so old fashioned! They told
stories of wonderful futures without illness, without want, without sadness. We
could trade our knowledges of the letters and number magics for cash. Cash,
they explained, had its own magic. It could transform into anything!
“Look, we will show you the way.” So they worked their
magics and transformed the boggy land by adding a house made of dried grasses
tied into bundles. “Come work for us and one day you, our friend – imagine it –
one day you will live in a house of fine red brick.” Our caves were filling
with men looking for shiny metals, and our wandering was constrained by the
steel snakes and extraordinary rules, so this sounded pretty good.
But this new house of straw was leaky and moldy, obviously
inferior to the caves, and was far from the hunting grounds. We spoke these
truths to the men, and many times they promised to send supplies, but it was
only when our body was gaunt that they appeared. They spoke sternly, “You are
not keeping up your magic on this home! You must apply yourself more.” Over and
over again they chanted these words until a great wind was formed and with a massive
exhale they blew the straw house straight to the skies.
“We will build you a better house. But now you have had time
to grow your own magics. Give us… let’s say… 25% of your magic today and, one
day, my friend – imagine it – you will live in a house of fine red brick.” So
they transformed a windy prairie spot by adding of a house of pine. While the
constant winds shook our home, and the howls of the steel snakes bisected our
days and ways there were few caves nearby. This home was dry and clean, and the
cupboard full of food for a long winter.
But every day we feasted alone, unable to find any relations
nearby. As the days passed, our thoughts
grew strange as food seemed to vanish every day even though we replenished it often
with magics. After careful consideration, and a great number of calculations, we
were sure our stores would not last the winter, no matter how long we worked.
With shame, we spoke this truth to our friends and many
times they promised to send seeds so we could raise a garden, but it was only
when our body was emaciated that they appeared. They spoke harshly, “You are
not keeping up your magic on this home. You must apply yourself more.” Over and
over again they chanted these words until a great wind was formed and with a
great exhale they blew the wood box straight to the skies.
“We will build you a better house. But now you have even
more of your own magics. Give us another 25% of your magics and today – imagine
it – you will move into a house of fine red brink.” So they transformed a forest
of cedar with the addition of houses of fine red brink. Row on row of identical
red boxes. The nearby caves were wet and empty, but there was a Tim’s nearby. We
might feast alone, but at least we were bonded with those in our brand clan.
But as the days passed, we heard ghostly whispers (“Double-Double,
toil and trouble”) as the food seemed to diminish everyday even though we
contributed greater and greater magics. After careful consideration, and a
great number of calculations, we were sure our Tim’s Card would not last until
the next payday, no matter how many hours we worked.
With shame, we spoke this truth to our friends and many
times they promised to upload points on our Tim’s Card, but it was only when our
body was skeletal that they appeared. They spoke unsympathetically, “You are
not keeping up your magic on this home. You must apply yourself more.” Over and
over again they chanted these words until a great wind was formed and with a
great exhale they transformed the bricks from neat little boxes into one giant
brick tower that almost blocked the sun. “Enter those doors to find your future.”
Well, we had a bad feeling about that building but we were far from our lands,
our magics insufficient to sustain us, hungry and tired we entered those doors,
never suspecting how long those bricks would hold us. Ho
