And what a fitting place to end our play. When I think back on it... words fail... (As I hope your throwing arms do)

Balthasar, let's hear that song again, it will cover us on our way out.

(Now, divine air! now is his soul ravished! Is it
not strange that sheeps' guts should hale souls out
of men's bodies? Well, a horn for my money, when
all's done.)

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more,
Men were deceivers ever,
One foot in sea and one on shore,
To one thing constant never:
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into Hey nonny, nonny.

Sing no more ditties, sing no moe,
Of dumps so dull and heavy;
The fraud of men was ever so,
Since summer first was leafy:
Then sigh not so, but let them go,
And be you blithe and bonny,
Converting all your sounds of woe
Into Hey nonny, nonny.


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King: So has the troupe finally exited the castle?

Minister: No Majesty. They ditched their escort and holed up in an Inn. They kept all of the Outer Ring awake with their revels the past fortnight.

King: Why didn't the watch take them?

Minister: They corrupted the watch with praise, women, and ale. One of them has joined the company as a new bass *groan* And how base a bass you can imagine.

King: Though there be no honor in it, I think it be time to send out the guard.

Minister: It be. (confidently at first and then looks a little unsure of himself)

King: Oh would that the Good Lord himself would intervene 'pon our behalf and part us from this fair company. But an he won't, we'll carry them off by force of arms.

Minister: Well spoken, Majesty. I'll see to it ... personally.





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The old man was on his knees, working as usual with his roses. He had retired from the Family many years ago. He had been able to survive many wars. He had been able to move his family from their dangerous line of work to a more legitimate business. He had loved once and seen it taken from him by violence. Seen his offspring born and grow. One taken from him by violence as well.

Now he worked as Sicilian folk songs played in his old, old mind. Even as he worked he saw his life replay again and again for his enjoyment and approval as well. He was surely damned, he had done such terrible things. But he had been mostly successful at protecting his family.

This garden was in his ancestral village. In Sicily. He had been deported years ago from the nation he considered his true homeland. He hadn't become legitimate quickly enough to please them. But in Sicily he was respected. Very few men had accomplished what he had, regardless of its moral color, and they admired him for his uniqueness.

Death was waiting for the old man now. Just around the corner. Also enjoying the warm sun, blue sky and fragrant air. He'd only have to tap him on the shoulder with his scythe the old man was so ripe now. But he waited. After all, the world wouldn't be quite the same without the old man in it.

So in the lazy, warmth of that Sicilian day. Two waited. One worked. Time seemed to stand still. A moment unperceived but pure.

That is what life is after all.



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Buckaroo woke up with a headache. He felt like he had been ionized... again.

He also felt disorientated even though he was in his familiar bedroom. Reality had been pretty dicey lately.

"Eddy's in the sp... No... I don't want to hear that joke again." he thought with a fuzzy brain.

He checked his pen scrawled notes on the bedside table...

The solstice would occur at an approximate UTC of 17:47, on the 21st of course. This always seemed to be the most dangerous day of the year for him.

"Oh well. Everybody's got their traditions." he thought. "I've got three days to prepare."

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Ride�s consciousness formed slowly around some �droplet� in this new space. He became instantaneously aware that he had arrived in plane.

His training quickly paid off as he sailed through the brief period of shock that a material being experiences when being unleashed from body. He knew that he should not try to think about: just where exactly his old bod was at that moment. He did permit himself to �smile� at the idea that at least he knew it wasn�t back in his place with some mini-Shiva shoving crayons up its defenseless nose.

�This is so amazingly cool!� he thought �Let�s try a stretch.�

Ride stretched his consciousness as hard as he could. He instantly was able to be everywhere in the plane at once. There was a lot going on. A lot of strange consciousnesses hanging out here. He quickly retreated back to a small region around his entry point.

There was an experience now that filled his perceptions. Here we�d call it a big, booming voice, a voice with power and �don�t fuck with me� attitude. But it of course was disembodied, different, more powerful and it really has to be experienced by a being to be appreciated. Ride wondered how he could make an experience like that for some other being, and made a note to practice when he freed up here.

�Welcome Ride. You are my bitch now. Do only exactly what I say. And... let me make this as clear as anything you have ever experienced to this point in your shallow, worthless life: do not go anywhere near my wife.�


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Enlightenment tip for modern day seekers found deep within the Book of Ride:

Consider the pedestrian crosswalk signal my brothers and sisters. It is a test.

Many of you cannot resist the base urge to punch the button several times even though logic dictates that a single punch of the button should suffice. You must learn how to wait patiently for that which your thinking tells you is true. If you cannot conquer the walk signal, how can you do anything greater?

Those who master this yet fidget mindlessly while waiting reveal their weakness and lack of preparation for the trials that they would have to face on the narrow, upward pass. There is nothing to look at, with very rare exception, at an intersection. Your fellow man will be more impressed by a steady, calm gaze than constant checking of an expensive wrist watch.

At all times bear yourself like a king or queen no matter what your immediate circumstances.


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Now Ride hadn't been there very long and already both of them knew that Shiva was in biiiiiiiiig trouble. It's hard to explain why. Perhaps the best way to see it is to start with how Ride handled that big booming message that threatened to overwhelm his consciousness.

The simple truth is that he only half heard it. He was like a little kid in some ways. Here he was, in a totally unfamiliar element, and he could only think about how cool it was and how many things he wanted to try out. His mind was full of experiments and while Shiva made his play, Ride simply multi-tasked, merely recording instead of obsessing upon the message. In the meantime he worked math problems in his head, made attempts to influence the material world, tried to measure how fast he could zoom from one small region in the plane to another. Thought up silly jokes about his new circumstances.

Of course this was what a psychiatrist would call a "normal healthy response" to a new situation. Ride knew this and gave himself a pat on his own mental back for being such a cool, collected, well-adjusted cat. His only regret was that he no longer had those wonderful shades that he had worn. He thought this new reality would look nicer with some shade. And then of course he realized this was probably under his mental control and simply made it so - to the extreme irritation of Shiva.

Ride was, as a long series of teachers had continually reminded him, deficient in many of the traditional heroic qualities. But all the wise men now would certainly have to agree that no one was better suited for the situation he now found himself in. Quote

Banzai had no visible reaction to any of the countless number of incident / threat reports that were flowing in a never ending stream into his command center. It wasn't even an act. He had been expecting all hell to break loose on this day.

To those unschooled in eastern philosophy the reports sounded bizarre. But to an expert, like Buckaroo, it all made the weird kind of sense that briefly awakening legends/myths always made when examined under the right kind of glass. Supernatural creatures. Demi-gods from unfamiliar cults. Long lost tribes.

Somebody was playing with whatever fabric underlay this universe and Banzai had a pretty good idea of who and why.

"Let the police deal with everything" he told his staffers. "Just let me know about anything green. Green light, green men, hell even green auras."

"Worried about the Irish Buckaroo?" quipped Reno when he heard this.

"You know who I am worried about. Send the rugsuckers and a team of irregulars to Delhi."

Banzai wasn't too worried. It really wasn't his battle at all. They were just playing zone.

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Looking back now it was clear that the single most important event of his life was his two week affair with the legendary Apsara Varuthini. How incredible it was that he was able to seduce his favorite at just the right time, just before the upsurge in popularity of the Mahabharata that made her almost unreachable by mere mortals.

He was a sucker for any Apsara truth be told. He loved their form, their costumes, their dance. If he had a larger ego he would suspect that they were created for him, but he knew better. For he had also met Indra.

But because he had entered the hearts of the Apsaras he was given exceptional luck. And since he was frequently in their company, he was well versed in the lore of the gods. He found this to be his secret for accelerated learning. Better than any ascetic's trick.

mmmm but Varuthini. Clever. Mischevous. Because of his seduction of her Indra had revealed the key truth that was essential for bargaining with Shiva.

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and noo, because of a mention, and also because it is tyme for an intermission:

Muirsheen Durkin

In the days I went a courting, I was never tired of sporting
To the alehouse and the playhouse and many's the house besides,
So I told me brother Seamus I'd go off and go right famous
And before I'd return again I'd roam the whole world wide.

(chorus)
So goodbye, Muirsheen Durkin, I'm sick and tired of working,
No more I'll dig the praties, no longer I'll be poor.
For as sure as me name is Carney
I'll be off to California, where instead of digging praties
I'll be digging lumps of gold.

I've courted girls in Blarney, in Kanturk, and in Killarney
In Passage, and in Queenstown-- that is, the Cobh of Cork.
But goodbye to all this pleasure, for I'm going to take me leisure
And the next time that you hear from me
Will be a letter from New York.

(chorus)

Goodbye to all the boys at home, I'm sailing far across the foam
To try to make me fortune in far America,
For there's silver there aplenty for the poor man and the gentry
And when I do come back again I never more will stray.


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How, you may ask, did Dudley come to know Indra? The answer is quite simple. Dudley is, or was rather, an unusually outgoing mountie. So you could say it was inevitable for them to meet because they both had a powerful curiosity about life. Their personalities were mutually interesting and for some reason they felt some kind of kinship with each other. It became their habit to meet every so often to talk about women, the universe, or any other topic that came to them as they sat drinking soma in Indra�s palace in Amaravati.

Thus at the time of the crucial meeting, Dudley was already on fairly familiar turf. He was a fast friend by now of Airavata. He was used to the sights and sounds that are so strange to first visitors to Svarga. He knew Indra�s quirks and ways.

Out of love and sympathy for his quest, his favorite Apsara had given him a gift to give to Indra that would allow him to coax out of Indra the secret that would allow him to obtain Shiva�s blessing for his cause. More than this, his fledgling ascetic abilities had grown to the point that he could actually forsee the success of this meeting.

Those who had witnessed the mountie suffering horrible trials earlier in his quest would now certainly delight in his easy passage through this heavenly realm. Years of preparation, years of training, years of trial were now yielding the harvest.

He made sure to pass through the dwellings of the Apsaras both coming and going. Drinking in the love and beauty like a man fresh from a great desert crossing. Tall in the saddle. Mind easy and occupied only with events years in the future. The denizens of that happy land had never seen someone leave it so easily and joyfully.
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There you have it gentle readers. The framework of the tale has been laid out. All that remains is the filling in of sundry details. But we do not have to be so bloody minded as to furnish these here and at this time.

Instead the reader should be content to have been given some insight into the interaction that occurs between gods and mortals. And this tale should have also furnished an explanation to any seeker who has been perplexed by observing a mountie carved in stone at some remote Indian temple.

Again we pass on our holiday greeting and best wishes for the new year.

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From the movie soundtrack: by Wu Li Ne IL Sun and the smoking 44s

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be mounties
Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive sleds wearing mucklucks
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be mounties
They'll never stay home and they're always alone
Even with someone they love

Mounties ain't easy to love and they're harder to hold
And they'd rather give you a song than diamonds or gold
Maple leaf belt buckles and old faded Levis

And each night begins a new day
And if you don't understand him and he don't die young
He'll probably just ride away

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be mounties
Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive sleds wearing mucklucks
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be mounties
They'll never stay home and they're always alone
Even with someone they love

Mounties like smoky old cabins, clear mountain mornings
Little warm puppies and rum, girls of the night
And them that don't know him won't like him and them that do

Sometimes won't know how to take him
He ain't wrong, he's just different but his pride won't let him
Do things to make you think he's right

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be mounties
Don't let 'em pick guitars and drive sleds wearing mucklucks
Make 'em be doctors and lawyers and such

Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be mounties
They'll never stay home and they're always alone
Even with someone they love
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Appendix A: A Couple of Abstinence Tricks for Novice Ascetics

In this modern age it is unusually difficult to satisfy the vow of chastity that is still required as a part of the rigors of enlightenment. Some have suggested relaxing the requirements because of the added difficulties but the gods are unbending. Therefore I will share two tricks that I have learned that make use of the very things that can sometimes make this age far exceed any other for temptations of the flesh.

Use the TV, use the TV. All you have to do is avoid the porn channels. Even with a remote control it is difficult to keep an erotic image in front of you for any significant length of time. Then you can simply let your mind become the blank , dull thing that is the frustration to so many horny housewives.

Use the copious amount of free porn to your advantage. How? Deliberately cultivate an obsession for one particular porn star to the exclusion of all others. Learn to dismiss attractive women by noticing that they differ too much in this feature or that from your ideal woman of the moment. Then to avoid becoming too attached, deliberately switch the porn star you�ve chosen to a new obsession each week.

Nothing is more satisfying than saying to your fellow office workers, who are drooling over the latest sex pot who the boss has been lured into hiring, � I don�t like her ass nor her breasts. While her legs are right her lips are borderline.� And then when asked again the next week about the same woman saying �Those legs are awful. Wonderful ass though. Mmmm and those breasts. But her hair is just hopeless.�

Nobody will notice your strange weekly fluctuations because they are too absorbed in their own lust.

If you should be ambushed by a nearly identical twin of your model of the week simply and confidently go out on a few dates with her. If she starts down the path to the wild sex that you expect from the porn star you�ve been keying upon, then you will have to use extreme measures to avoid losing all your careful progress to date.

However, it is much more likely that she will be more interested in getting to know you a little bit - a process that will last more than a week. At which time you should be able to switch to the next porn star and avoid the issue altogether.

All it takes for abstinence is a little creativity and a sense of humor my friends. Good luck on your path.

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Appendix B: Older Lovers

Ah my young seekers, perhaps you have now come to your first encounter with the Great Cougar Goddess. You are perhaps confident and happy, fresh from your mastery of white belt sex and your first loves. But now you went into some room and were ambushed by a passion and an appetite that all your previous encounters have given no warning of. Your simple model of the other sex has been shattered by the bizarre energy and weird ways of the older lover.

There is no shame in retreat from this encounter. Enjoy the simpler, more innocent seeming love of your youth. The time when you thirst for something different will come, will come, as sure as all other clocked events in life. There is no need to hurry, no need to force yourself down a path you are likely to run down later. Fully savor each step of your journey through life.

To the man who starts down a new path but fears losing something from the old, there is no point to hesitation. The old days are gone as they were. It is possible and fun to go back but make no mistake, it will be different, a new kind of experience with old tricks.

Mmmm to see the older woman with the right eyes, the right fire burning in you, is a threshold that you will enjoy crossing. How masterful she is at love. How quickly she can change form, position, and mind. In one night of passion you will experience all things. She will consume you. So strong then so yielding. She can clinch like a vise and melt like butter. She can carry herself with Spartan discipline and then let herself go briefly into some kind of madness and release. She�ll make you feel one moment as if you are her soul mate and in the next moment make you feel her independence with a regal detachment the envy of any feline.

Women do get so much more interesting as they age. Deadly lovers. Keep your wits about you at all times. ; )



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