Mittwoch, 11. August 2021

 

tale 107 the enemy

Written by Rainer: rainer.lehrer@yahoo.com

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The enemy

 

In the semi-darkness, he saw someone slowly creeping in. He himself was also sitting in a dark corner, pointing his rifle at the entrance and waiting. The person entering let his eyes glide through the room of the half-ruined building, then he walked on in the room, apparently wanting to rummage through every nook and cranny.

"Hands up!" - said the hiding man, almost in a whisper. "Put the gun gently on the ground without turning around!" he ordered further. "Very nice! Now, hands behind your head and in the other corner! Where the light is.” The other did as he was told. “You will not escape us. They're looking for you everywhere.” “Keep your voice down, otherwise I'll shoot you!” He paused. "If they find me here, I'll take you with me to my death." He went to the gun and picked it up.

The steps around the house moved away. “He is not here. Over there to the next ruin.” Both the one who had entered and the other who was hiding began to breathe more deeply, one because he was allowed to do it again, the other because he could do it again. “For whom or what do you risk being hunted down. You could have a quiet life, a job, a family, a house.” “Well, then I wouldn't be better than you! A henchman who serves the powerful.” “I know that not everything is going ideally. But could you show me a better system?" "And because you'd rather have a big belly, you just join in then." "If only people like you existed, humanity would have died out." “Well, then the powerful would have to look for new slaves. But they would probably degrade the lowest among themselves. For example, people like you. You see, that's why they are actually dependent on us and not we on them. Who else would do the dirty work for them and also pay taxes to maintain their system?” “But there has to be some kind of rule, otherwise everyone would do what they like.” “There are two Options. Either someone makes himself the leader and commands what is law and order, or all start to think about it and find a common solution.” “Democracy? It doesn't work. Man will never live for the common good.” “And that's why it is better if only one person terrorizes everyone else, or if a small group determines what should happen? Shouldn't everyone be taught and recognize what is right?” “You are a dreamer!” “Possible! But humanity is going in this direction. At first only a Pharaoh ruled and people like you were buried with him. Today we already have parliaments.” “Today's world is godless.” “In the past, someone played God. But tell me why you believe so much in the current power?” “It makes our country great again. There was a time when brave fighters died for their country, king and faith. What we see today are all just selfish individualists.” “Do you know how ordinary people were doing back then? So that such a leader could spread his fame all over the world, many had to suffer, starve and die.” “Who cares about the little man?” “Isn't the small one just as good or bad as the big one?" "And that's why you make a revolution every now and then, in which thousands are killed and the whole order is turned upside down." "How many have to die to maintain this order? And then, of course, there are always henchmen, like you, who are thrown a few crumbs so that they get killed for the big ones. Or maybe, do you want to claim that you get more than a few crumbs?” “It depends on what you call crumbs. I lead a normal life.” “And what about your conscience? Have you ever thought about the fact that as a henchman you shouldn't think but only obey orders? You have to know that thinking is detrimental to order!” “You will not convince me! With you there is only chaos, nothing would work!” “Did you know that law enforcement officers were slaves at the time of the Romans. Back then, no proud citizen would have given himself up to spy on others."

 

 

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Dienstag, 10. August 2021

 

tale 86 fresh air machine

Written by Rainer: rainer.lehrer@yahoo.com

Learn languages (via Skype): Rainer: + 36 20 549 52 97 or + 36 20 334 79 74

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Fresh air machine

 

It doesn't take scientists to find out that employees work better in fresh than in stale air. For that reason, our company decided to have an air-cleaning machine installed. When tendering the project, we came across very special offers, for example: Destroying all sorts of unpleasant smells and odours!

When the equipment was installed, the specialist taught us how the equipment worked and what options there were.

- Scents such as food smells arouse the hunger of the employees and interfere with concentration.

- Sexy women's fragrances distract male employees from work.

- Intrusive men's odours disturb the noses of sensitive, female employees.

The company management was enthusiastic. Statistics were organized to determine the influence of the new air conditioning. Initially, the work performance increased by twenty percent, but after three weeks it sank again to as much as twenty percent less performance.

A psychologist was hired to get to the bottom of what was happening.

The result of his report:

- Smokers go to smoking corners more often to maintain their nicotine levels in their bodies.

- Men watch more porn during breaks to recuperate the lack of stimulation.

- And so forth.

Then the machine was switched off again. Since then, the employees have equally been working on average again.

 

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Montag, 9. August 2021

 

tale 85 lazy young people

Written by Rainer: rainer.lehrer@yahoo.com

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lazy young people

 

“These young people today are simply effeminate. They don't want to work properly anymore. ”I heard the old neighbours through the door of my flat in the stairwell of the old apartment building, still made of real bricks, where I lived in with ten other parties. I didn't care much about it, since I didn't necessarily consider myself a member of society anyway, and the way one social class scolded the other groups didn't affect me in the least. It was a small town and I had my two-room shelter on the outskirts with many garden houses around. In winter, of course, the pavement had to be kept free of snow and sometimes swept in summer. This was done through division of labour. Everyone in the house was given a week, which resulted in a ten-week rhythm. If you were lucky, it was your turn when there was actually nothing to do.

On one of these occasions, an elderly, stout woman came straight from shopping and when she saw me, she praised me for how diligent I was, waited a breath and then asked me to help her carry the heavy bags. I am not a Jesus figure, but if you ask me politely, I usually cannot reject something like that. So I helped her carry the bags, it was only about three hundred meters up the hill. On this short journey, she told me part of her life how difficult the war and post-war times had been, that her husband had left her for some time to take his worthy place in a happier world, up there next to God. Pronouncing these holy words, she made the cross movement on her chest with her hand. When she got to the garden gate, she unlocked it and I carried the bags to the front door. It went through a rather large garden that looked a little neglected. Her son lived in the city and didn't help her at all, she sighed. “Well,” I thought to myself, “I also have better things to do.” Of course you don't say something like that out loud, you just let your thoughts wander. When I parted, she gave me an apple from her garden and called me her son.

Less than a week went by when she talked to another neighbour in front of the house where I lived. I greeted her as I passed and wanted to continue on my way to go to the swimming pool. She stopped me and asked me to help her the next day to rearrange the small compost heap behind the house a bit, because at her age she was no longer capable of such hard work. Frowning a bit, I agreed and went to her house the next morning at the agreed time. After a moment, she came out with a beaming face and led me to the other part of the garden behind her house. Now the full extent of the property that would have needed a whole man in full-time employment to create order there and then to maintain it really became apparent. She stood next to me and told me stories and a few of her own thoughts, maybe to entertain me. For example, that she couldn't understand why these young people did sports when gardening would be much healthier and, above all, useful. While I was sweating, she asked if I had an iron. But since I only wore t-shirts, sweaters and jeans, it would never have occurred to me to buy something like this. After finishing work, she gave me an old electric iron and tried to persuade me to come back the next day to do some other gardening work. I gave her the useless present, or perhaps payment, back into her hand and took quick steps out of the garden. Since then she has been telling the whole neighbourhood that I don't like work. And since that time I have been avoiding all of them as far as possible.

 

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Sonntag, 8. August 2021

 

tale 84 the dog

Written by Rainer: rainer.lehrer@yahoo.com

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The dog

 

"That’s it! This is your place now. If you behave, you can stay.” Blakey, the white-spotted mongrel, looked shyly around in the anteroom. The man had just removed the dog from his mother and put it in a basket with soft old pillows in this new place. Now he put a bowl with two deepenings next to the basket. He filled one with water and the other with dry food from a bag. Blakey was too busy with the new environment and didn't know that the bowl should now be his. He sat on the pillow and waited to see what should happen. "Blakey! This is your food. Don’t you like it? Picky too! What there is in the bowl has to be eaten. Do you hear? Blakey!” The dog had no idea what this was all about. He couldn't connect to anything with the word "Blakey" either, because he had never had a name at all. "Well, eat it!" And immediately he took the dog and put it in front of the bowl. Blakey looked at him with astonished eyes and wanted to go back into the basket on whose pillow he had begun to feel comfortable. With a Goethean "If you don't want to, I will use force!" He took the dog's head and dipped its snout into the water, causing the nostrils to fill with water and the dog had to sneeze. "Stupid dog! Can't you drink normally either?” Purred the new owner indignantly. "Oh well! You'll learn.” With these words, he left the newcomer, went into the other room and resumed the work he had left behind at the desk. After the little animal had recovered a bit from the first surprises, it circled around its own axis a few times so that the bed with the pillow was really flat, as dogs generally do, curled up, yawned, put his snout between the inner side of the thigh and body and closed his eyes. "What a day!" After half an hour the owner came into the anteroom. "That’s nice! At least a quiet animal!” He thought, turned around and sat down at the desk again.

It was already eight o'clock in the evening when it suddenly occurred to him that he still had to take the little animal for a walk so that it wouldn't piss or shit in the apartment. But he hadn't bought a collar or leash. "Why did I only listen to my girlfriend?" He thought to himself. "Actually, she wanted a dog." He was looking for something that could be used as a leash. He took the cord from the curtain, made a noose, and picked up the dog. Now the phone rang too. He freed his hand and pressed the "take call" button. "Hello!" At that moment, Blakey woke up, startled and his sphincter muscles failed. Body warm water ran over the his hand and on his pants. "Damn! He pissed me off.” “Who? Do you have a dog? Oh, you are cute! I'll come around immediately.” “Bring a leash!” However, she had already hung up. “When she comes, I can't put the cord around the dog's neck because she would ask me angrily if I wanted to hang the little dog.” So, he went into the small communal garden of the apartment building, closed all the gates and put the inconvenience (the dog) onto the grass. He hoped no neighbour would complain. When the dog sat there and didn't move, the owner thought: “If it doesn't piss and shit now, it'll shit in my apartment at night. They told me he was house-trained, but after the first experience on my hand, I'm not so sure anymore. Why do I have to put so many problems on myself?"

Then the outer garden gate opened. “Oh, it's cute! However, didn't you want a pedigree dog?” Asked his girlfriend. “Actually, I didn't want a dog at all. However, one of my friend’s dog gave birth two months ago and they had been telling me to take one for weeks. And since you absolutely wanted one, I brought one for you.” “Well. But not in a woman's apartment!” “Oh, I understand! You just want to have the joys and the others should do the work.” “If you talk to me like that, I'll go home immediately.” And with these words she turned around and was gone before he could even protest.

“Can you see, Blakey? It can go that fast.” The dog looked up at him with astonished eyes and the owner had the feeling that this could be the beginning of a very long friendship. He sat down on the grass while the little animal sniffed around a bit within two meters. After a while, it came back and snuggled carefully into the bend between its owner's upper and lower thigh. "You're a lovely little animal!” While he gently caressed his new little friend, he looked into the stars with empty eyes. Maybe he should find a new girlfriend, he thought. "But apparently a puppy like that is a hindrance for women."

The opposite should turn out. Already on his first walk with the small dog, girls or women stopped him, or rather the dog, almost every meter, females of all ages and shapes. Sometimes they literally fought for the favour of being the first to caress the little dog.

 

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Freitag, 6. August 2021

 

tale 83 the old monkey tells his tale 8

Written by Rainer: rainer.lehrer@yahoo.com

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The old monkey tells his tale 8

 

After calming down and processing the past, with which solitude helps, comes the awakening, or better yet, the realization.

Without the presence of other monkeys, there is no one against which the boundaries of personality can be expressed. The monkey determines himself in relation to its social environment. If this does not exist, the “I” is a flowing mass. Robinson Monkey had probably just forgotten who he was after twenty-three years on his island.

Fine! I had processed what had happened, knew what I didn't want, but was far from being able to say what should correspond to my wishes. A monkey can only wish what he can imagine, that is, what he has already grasped or touched in some form or shape with his own senses. He cannot invent so many new things, they have to be shown to him. And then, he is able to put the pieces back together differently.

Therefore, I needed new ideas. So one morning after a good night's sleep, I set out to climb the highest peak in order to choose a direction. A small leather pouch lined with animal intestines served as a water container and another leather pouch was filled with dried fish, fruits and grains. The sun was shining, a wandering monkey could not have wished for better conditions. Again and again, I looked around and it seemed to me that somewhere behind me in the distance the rough outlines were coming together to form real memories.

Again a green carpet lay in front of me, which meant a day with a lot of forest. Drums could be heard in the distance. These were struck rhythmically. As I got closer, I saw a high priest standing at the end of a long bamboo staircase. He wore a brightly coloured ring on his head. The sun behind him shone right through this hoop, so he raised his arms. “See the glory of the banana god!” he shouted. Everyone below looked at the sun, which naturally blinded them. Behind them the drums sounded louder, from time to time something hit a metal plate, producing a bright sound. The monkeys were hypnotized.

From my bushes, I could see several of them from the side in the face. They knelt at the foot of the stairs with open eyes and expressionless faces. Where was I now? There was a clown up there on the stairs, making some kind of hocus-pocus and the stupid monkeys let themselves be enchanted. A young monkey girl got up and walked slowly up the stairs as if in a trance. She actually seemed to float. When she reached the top, she put down the tray with fried bananas and came down again. Then the next girl went up with a mug. It went like this three or four more times. When the sun had left the coloured ring, everyone woke up and slowly disappeared into the forest.

I crept quietly around the hill and found the high priest who was enjoying the food. I went up to him. He wasn't very surprised to see me. “I already saw you in the tree. Sit down, eat and tell me where you are from!” I did as I was advised, but preferred to ask him a few questions. I had the feeling that he could probably tell me more than I could truly tell him. He watched me for a moment and seemed to be very happy that he finally didn't have to listen, but could share his worries. "I am grateful to you that you are interested in learning something and that you pay me your attention." and with these words he began his story.

Many years ago he had been voted the brightest. He should hold judgment, rule for everyone, and guide them. Everyone knew that he ate the food for the banana god, but they wanted to live in a simple way, like in paradise, in comfortable stupidity. And for that they needed someone who thought for them. There were different periods of time during his reign. Sometimes he was very ambitious and let them build something for the common good. When he was fed up, he was a tyrant. He admitted that it was difficult to always react calmly to all nonsense. Sometimes he was gripped by megalomania and then he really believed he was a god. It is not easy to always have a grip on yourself when there is no one who criticizes you from time to time, gives you his or her opinion. Above all, however, he felt punished because he was alone, had no family, and actually couldn't enjoy his own life. In order to be honoured by everyone, he had to forego the simplicity of existence. "Wouldn't it be better to teach them?" I gasped. He had already tried that too, but then gave it up because it was even more tiring. And so, he spent his time watching his people, choosing one to take over power after his death. So far, however, no suitable candidate had been found. “Maybe you are too good to them? When they experience what a selfish god you are, they will want to take their fate into their own hands.” “ Do I have to make them hate me? Hm! Wouldn't you like to play God?” He probably believed that he had found in me the good-natured monkey who would one day enable his people to continue their carefree life. I had seen a lot by then, but I had not been God yet. For a few moons, I stayed hidden behind a bush at the court days and similar meetings and afterwards the high priest and I discussed what to do in this or that case.

He certainly noticed that I was an interested and considered advisor, but that it would bore me too much in the long term. And so, he asked me one morning: “I see it in your eyes, it pushes you on. You have a good heart, but the role of a god would drive you crazy sooner or later.” He slung the bags of water and food over my shoulder and smiled sadly, turned and went back to the temple. “A wise monkey!” I thought, he had taught me a lot and was able to read the minds of others. “A worthy god!” But an exception among the gods.

A new mountain lay in front of me.

 

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Donnerstag, 5. August 2021

 

tale 82 the old monkey tells his tale 7

Written by Rainer: rainer.lehrer@yahoo.com

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The old monkey tells his tale 7

 

If death were so beautiful, one would not want to live at all, but would rather die immediately after birth. Different monkey cultures even say that one loses memory with death. But when one of the girls, who had noticed my awakening, came to me and asked me something, I couldn't understand a word and answered in one of the languages ​​I had learned so far. It is probably too much to expect a monkey to speak other languages ​​if she or he has never left their residential area. And so, she just looked at me sweetly with her beautiful eyes. Another language teacher? On one hand, these paradises closed off from the outside world have their charm, which consists in their simplicity. But on the other hand, because of that, they can also be very one-sided and limited.

Instinct is stupid and only sees the moment. And so, it is love, difficulties begin later.

In simple or early societies, the monkey sees all children as survival and the whole community participates in their upbringing. Wherever one's own property arises, the father tries to secure as much as possible for his own. When developed societies are smart, they come back to the initial principle. However, none has room for individualism, because that would loosen the ties within the community too much. Mad people are harmless and delight in their ridiculousness. Well thought-out peculiarities shake the foundations of order. External modules must first be checked for their properties.

However, these eyes had forgotten all principles, only the urge to fulfil the longing was reflected in it. Instinct knows no reason. I doubt whether she could read my mind, she only noticed that something was working in my head and this had to be overwhelmed first if the whole body was to be led to its enjoyment. How simple the world is!

First, she led me to a place with little tables set. All sorts of subtleties that could only be imagined. I later learned that males and older females were helpful angels. After I had fed enough, she showed me a resting place and I fell asleep on her bosom. When I woke up again, she was lying tightly next to me and playing with my genitals, which of course showed a certain effect. She offered herself to me and I did not have to be asked twice.

She followed me everywhere, always ready for union. She drank me up, or squeezed me out, like a lemon. After a while, I would sometimes take refuge in a tree or hide from her, but she found me anyway. But then one morning she suddenly disappeared. I looked for her but couldn't find her anywhere. Instead, all the other monkey girls followed me now. After a few days, I let myself be conquered. Although I feasted on the set tables and did well, I soon looked like a shadow or a ghost. The stallion needed a rest. However, it was a small island and I couldn't be sure that there weren't any crocodiles or piranhas in the water. Therefore, I waited for the moment when the angels would come with dinner twice a day. They reached the island in small boats. When I sat down there, the girls left me alone. Apparently, they understood my intention.

The boats arrived, I helped them distribute the food on the tables and got on. Now there was finally an older female, who explained the whole thing to me. “All males who come to the island have to satisfy the willing girls and if one of them has no more strength, he waits for the boats. The girls do the same when they realize they are pregnant. Sexual intercourse only takes place on the blissful island, so everyone knows what they are about. And the offspring are assured. It is clear to everyone who the mother is, but no one knows exactly who the father could be. The residents of the surrounding area provide the island with everything they need so that the people there only have to deal with love."

I spent some time in this magical world, once at work, then again on the island, until an older monkey spoke to me. “You have done a lot for us, you have helped with our work, but most of all you have brought us new blood. However, something is bothering you?” It was an old, clever monkey. "You're right. Your paradise is a miracle, but something pulls me away again.” “I know. I was like you, hiked for a long time, and came back in the end. Should you ever feel that you can live in the simplicity of happiness, then come back, we will welcome you.” I hugged the old man, thanked him, took a few steps and was gone into the dense rainforest. Who had have given whom more?

All of these experiences had deeply influenced me, or rather, had left me with a great mess of facts, knowledge, wishes, dreams and ideas. I asked for rest and processing. That's why I wasn't sad at all when, after conquering the next peaks, a lovely, small, lonely mountain valley opened before my eyes. Trees, many clearings, a small river and apparently completely untouched. Had a monkey never strayed here before? In two days I had roamed all over it, knew every corner, every fruit bush. A fallen tree over the river, which I weighed down with fallen wood and stones, soon formed a dam and a smaller lake was created in which I fished. I slowly became calm, like the valley. My thoughts began to come to terms, or rather, how I felt about what I had experienced. I wanted to find out who I really was. Did every event have the same influence on everyone? Why do things still have different effects on individuals?

 

Part 8

 

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tale 81 the old monkey tells his tale 6

Written by Rainer: rainer.lehrer@yahoo.com

Learn languages (via Skype): Rainer: + 36 20 549 52 97 or + 36 20 334 79 74

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The old monkey tells his tale 6

 

It didn't sound very convincing when he spoke of a "community". Any coexistence is a structure or a society, but community just sounded too idealistic, in contrast to the principle of authority that was here in front of my eyes. He noticed that I didn't believe a word he said and began to provoke me. He had started with it and now had to prove his ability to rule over me in front of the others if he wanted to maintain the group's respect for him. His gestures became more and more aggressive, and when he saw that I wasn't reacting, he drew his knife. Something I had already learned from my first contact with cultures and monkeys: "Fear destroys self-esteem and makes you vulnerable, and a prompt reaction disarms the enemy." When he had reached for his knife, I tore a burning stick from the fire and stabbed it into his face. The people sitting around were so surprised that they stayed there paralyzed. The blinded leader screamed like hell, everyone was taking care of him. In this mess, I was pushed further and further into the background. I slowly turned and disappeared into the night.

I was about fifty yards when I observed torches and heard footsteps behind me. The horde started looking for me. It was pitch dark, the moon was completely obscured by clouds. I didn't know where I was going, which was not entirely safe, with the angry monkeys behind me, maybe a slope in front of me. The lights of the torches could still be seen. I had to be far enough away by sunrise not to be spotted. The next morning I climbed a peak, everywhere the same picture, almost endless mountain peaks. I couldn't go back, just forward. Mountain valleys with dry scrub and cacti, or stony ridges. Up a mountain, stones and rocks, sometimes a bit of snow, depending on the altitude, down again on the other side, through the mountain valley, monkey-high, dried out, prickly bushes and cacti. Advancement was only possible where the melting snow water washed out smaller riverbeds. When I felt safe, I only went during the day. On a cactus, I saw a tuber in an inviting red colour. That should be some fruit. I bit into it. The taste was sweet too. But there were tiny spikes on the shell that now hung on my hands and lips.

It took three days to wander around before I hit a beaten path. I didn't know which way I was going because the clouds obscured the stars at night and the sun during the day. One direction of this foot-wide path was up, the other down. I needed a little fire to warm up and something to eat. The water wasn't the best either, the more I drank, the more thirsty I became. We don't just drink to absorb moisture, we need minerals and salts. Of course, meltwater or rainwater do not have time to dissolve these mineral resources.

Experience shows that the way down is easier than the way up, and that's how it went pretty quickly. When I got around a rock again, I suddenly saw a small fire in the distance. But how big was my disappointment to find out that it was the mountain valley of the Horde. I turned around immediately and was perhaps even faster up than on the way down. In the meantime it was night again and almost impossible to see the paw in front of my eyes. Understandably, I didn't want to run into the members of the Horde and kept hiding. It went along a rock wall, the path got narrower and narrower until I was standing in front of an abyss. How deep it went down there couldn't be seen, only the roar of the water that rushed past there in the depths filled my ears. Carefully keeping my balance, I crossed an increasingly narrow stone bridge. The merciless wind whistled in the middle and I got down on all fours. Completely exhausted, I fell on my back on the other side. When I woke up a few hours later, it was already daylight, I looked at the whole thing again and was convinced that I would not go back there again. A deep gorge, a few hundred meters, no wider than maybe ten or twelve meters. Below the water rushed through this tightness and above the wind whistled. A constant raging and whistling amplified by the echo made me almost deaf. The bridge was a huge, elongated rock that had tumbled out of one of the rock faces, but was too big to fall all the way down through the narrow gorge.

Now I only went on in daylight again, these paths would actually have been ideal for chamois. Slowly it led downwards and then somewhere the path just stopped. Steep walls around me and in front of me a fast stream that came out of the wall on the left and disappeared into a tunnel in the right wall. How should it go on now?

Experience had shown that the water either rains from the sky or gushes out of the ground. Maybe this water was such a beginning. So I got in and walked slowly with the water into the opening tunnel. Of course, it got darker and darker and I hit this or that part of my body against the uneven wall or ceiling or slipped on the slippery rock. I had already walked a long way when I suddenly fell into the depths and lost consciousness.

When I woke up, I saw flowers all around me, humming bees, pretty monkey girls. Was I dead and was this the paradise of the banana god?

 

Part 7

 

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