THE GOLDEN AGE

Four Hundred Golden Ages had passed majestically before the watchful eyes Sonorid Maiehj Azmon. He had always held the view that another would merely intensify the antagonism. When engaged in conversation on this issue he would avoid any hint of a disliking of the matter lest it should tip the delicate balance, which served as a signpost to his truer station. "The trouble with such things", he would murmer, "is the inherent tendency of man to forget what he is doing. It always starts well enough. The creative spark is never found to be lacking, post introduction. Yet as it continues, the insipid thread of divergence is never far from snagging some trivial incident to slowly but surely drag the whole thing off course."

He was always prone to comment in such a fashion, but to take any of these statements and quote them as an indication of his character would be completely inaccurate. What he said was found to be true enough in relation to the subject with which he was dealing. Just as likely though, it would be found not to apply, or even to make no sense at all if taken out of context. There was an underlying incling that if one could only pin him down to a topic broad enough, that these off the cuff remarks would all tie together somehow and explain each other in the light of some loftier principle. Frankly, many had tried. Most could not overcome the "insipid thread of divergence". There were those who could stay with him a little longer, but they would eventually surcome to argument. They would disagree and the "divergence" was invoked. Strangely enough, these folk would wander off muttering, if not yelling (in the more acute cases) what a fool he was. At this he would laugh. But never very loudly.

The day in question came upon us with as much overwhelming glory as its predecessors. To many it seemed bound to the chain of events leading laboriously up to it. Nevertheless, all those present were astounded by the deftness of the action taken to cease control. It was now apparent that for some considerable time a silent and convoluted plot had been operated by one who now called himself "An Emperor". This in itself was an indightment of the insight of the individual. Surely, had he been foolish enough to punctuate himself with the title "The" Emperor, his downfall would have been imminent.

To render some perspective, all was not lost. In fact, those among us who cleave to the "chain of events" found much of the attendant dogma to their taste. For instance; financial inequality had been destroyed. This seemed to be one of the more popular issues. At first, those with abundance feared to loose something to those with less. When it was explained to them that there were no restrictions within the system and that everyone could simply do as he pleased, they were able to coalesce. This allowed those who wished to continue to aquire, ad infinitum, to do so. There was some difficulty over what seemed to be an imaginary social order, but since An Emperor was not The Emperor, there was no pinnacle to aim for. He was still the head of state however, and as such the illusion of social position could be maintained by those who so desired.
Naturally, those who had previously had less were chuffed. Slowly, even the fear of having to strive disintegrated and they finally found themselves bound by naught but their imagination. A highly amusing clique developed out of this and some still find them hilarious. These comedians discovered that by applying the imagination to someone else's action they could devise an argument based solely on what had been said. No doubt these antipathetic participants found no fun in joining in the sport of the ensuing land wars. Not everyone did. After the first of these wars ended, it was discovered that An Emperor would promptly destroy the victor and vacate the land for the use of the next hopeful Barron. It is rumored that several of the warlords actually feared death. Unfortunately, I remain unconvinced. Engage in War and fear Death? The soul in question would have to be of such vast capacity to reconcile the blatant polarity that It's actions, whatever they might be, would be completely justified.

After double henti of time, the process began to slow. The initial onset of material justification became reconsiled. The general preoccupation became one of entertainment to alleviate indolence. This too began to slow. At first there were some that sought to entertain their fellows out of a sense of joy in the state of affairs. (By this time the argumentative comedians were well out of fashion.) The trouble was that good material was getting harder and harder to find. Most of the jokes and antics had been done to death. For a brief period, just about anything was funny. Then the whole idea of entertainment was forgotten. It was simply boring. A general malaise spread over all and in time the life span of an individual began to shorten. It was found that removing objective goals from the life path of the cleavers to the chain of events, led to a sedentary state once their immediate whims had been fulfilled. With the removal of any obstacle to the procurement of any article, the extent of the imagination was taxed earlier in life. Certain articles were passed on from the parents of each generation and this served to further intensify the irritation. To put it simply, the cleavers to the chain of events found less to live for earlier and earlier in life. Once this life span shortened to the age of puberty, the cleavers to the chain of events went under. Extinct.
Now, of all the things that An Emperor was able to achieve, this must be counted an outstanding irrationality. For now, of what was An Emperor an Emperor? I suppose if one were not relaying a section of it all as a story, it could be said that, inevitably An Emperor must turn his hand to work his trade on himself.

With his customary diligence, An Emperor set to work. For many days he wandered alone. He followed the river since it seemed the only course going. He was alone since only the cleavers to the chain of events can follow another. Eventually An Emperor came upon Sonorid Maiehj Azmon who was fishing by the sewer outlet. Unfortunately, there was no sewage (since the cleavers to the chain of events had died out) so there were no fish. Yet he continued. Like all true fishermen, it was not the fish that he was after, but the "fishing."

The former Emperor, whose real name was Trevor To The Fifth Power, raised his spirits at the sight of the old man up ahead. He had heard of the old man's strange wisdom and lack of character. Perhaps, by a stroke of fate, the Gods had provided a chance meeting whereby he might gain some valuable information. So he quickened his pace to come up with him the sooner. This drew the old man's attention. Coming down upon him, with grave purposeful expression, shining golden breastplate and magnificent purple robes was Trevor To The Fifth Power, formerly An Emperor. He was even raising little piles of river sand with his steps in his haste. Eventually he came within earshot. "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the Law", proclaimed Sonorid Maiehj Azmon, half-smiling at the younger man's urgency. By now An Emperor was nigh out of breath. Finally, before the old man, puffing heavily and patting himself on the breastplate, he managed to cough out "But I do".
"Then that is your problem", replied Sonorid Maiehj Azmon.
"Sorry?" enquired An Emperor, unsure of what he had heard.
The old man aquiesced,"Not at all my friend. We both know that nothing is wasted".
An Emperor began to suspect that the conversation had been taking place just a little bit in front of him. So in order to pin this strange old man down, he would come straight to the point, get his answer and be off. "I am An Emperor", he began." I was able to balance all within the known world so that men could live as they chose. In this way, nature was free to take its course. I knew well that there would be war and death, but I included these as natural since they cannot be excluded. How is it then, that my system that worked so well, for so long ended with the annihilation of the cleavers unto the chain of events? I understand the principle of stagnation, but my system was not stagnant. Men could move as they chose. Is it that existence itself is destructive?"
Sonorid Maiehj Azmon had drawn in his fishing line and was re-baiting the hook. "Any one who would title himself An Emperor, include death in his system of government and seek to improve conditions for all men, surely must know that it is. What were you trying to achieve?"
"Freedom" replied An Emperor.
Sonorid Maiehj Azmon cast his line back into the water. "Well my friend, That is something we already have. It is only possible to name one thing that does not change and that is Nothing. So you see, no constriction can ever be permanent. Here I'll show you." With these words he produced an ancient black powder six shot revolver from his coat and shot himself clean through the centre of his forehead. His body was thrown to the ground following the impact to the head. As he fell, the pistol landed, still smoking, at the feet of An Emperor.

An Emperor was dumbfounded. He gazed curiously at the body for a time wondering exactly what to do next. The face of the old man seemed strangely calm, considering the absence of a back to the skull. As An Emperor stood there looking regal, he seemed to think that he somehow, very faintly, heard the old man's voice, saying cheerfully; "Well….what are you waiting for?"
High above An Emperor's head (although he did not see it), was a small but brilliant white star.

Felicity lay naked in the in the morning sun. It was early Autumn on a Sunday at what seemed like 8am. But it was really much later. At this time of year, the morning Sun has a quality unsurpassed. The light is so clear and precise, that when it strikes an object, it is as if an outline were formed. This presents all things in Highlight. The rays of the Sun still maintain their strength, but they are somehow friendlier than in the height of summer. They caressed Felicity's body as she lay dreaming of Kurt. They had married later in life but were still both holding together pretty well. These last two years since the wedding had been hectic. What with moving out onto the property, work and now Kurt joining The Royal Antediluvian Order of the Buffaloes, it seemed as if any time they could snatch for themselves, alone, was hurried. She did not begrudge his charitable work with the "Buffs". Lord knows the community was important. But surely, on Sunday, on the only day that they get to themselves, he would not be off with the Brethren fishing!
"Stuff it", she thought to herself. "I'll find something of my own to do".

She returned to the house, made two telephone calls, dressed and snatched up a large red carry bag. Within the space of 25 minutes, she found herself in a cab on the way to the local aerodrome. She directed the driver to pull up as close to the hanger as possible, paid the fare and walked lightly away, swinging the rather large bag about her as she went.

At one end of the hanger was the long table they used to pack the parachutes. As she began to pack her's, she remembered the first few times she had attempted this. How careful she was. After all, her life would depend on it once she was out there. These days, it was all she could do to keep from yawning. "No you don't," she said to herself as she caught her attention slipping. Her attention now fixed on the task at hand. The symmetry of the folding and the deftness of her movements became it's own reward.

Soon they were airborne. The engine of the small plane growling easily and the wing struts whistling. As they leveled of at jump height she felt the familiar sensation in the pit of her stomach. It was almost sexual in nature and intensity. The apprehension and excitement combined into a rush of emotional energy that could easily bring on that vague creeping faintness, which begins to rob one of awareness from the eyes back. This only intensified as she opened the door. The plane was now directly over her home as she had arranged. Far below her she could make out the roof of her house. No matter how many times she did this, her heart would always begin to race with the thought, "my God! I'm actually going to jump". She glanced over her shoulder at her pilot and nodded. "Now!" The engine cut. Making herself top heavy, she summersaulted out into space.
After 100 feet or so, she rolled out into a level position. She was flying. She could sail herself in any direction. Right, Left or she could increase speed in a dive by pulling her arms back to her sides. All the while, the magnificent Autumn sun lay upon her and the earth below stretched out in all directions into a soft haze.
Actually, Felicity was not flying at all. In fact she was plummeting toward the earth at the compounding speed of gravity. As we both know there was only one direction denied her. Up. Deep down, she was perfectly aware of this. After all, she had been well trained and had even won trophies in free fall competition.

When Kurt arrived home, he found the house empty. As usual in this case, he found himself touched ever so slightly by concern. "Was she alright?" Being a long way from foolish and spotting it straightaway off as paranoia, answered; "course she is". This little conversation never actually took place in a conscious state. It was more along the lines of one thought running smoothly into the next. Quite possibly, if one were to ask Kurt, he would have no recollection of it at all. But then he is always full of surprises.
Just being in "their" place put his mind at rest. Wherever his gaze fell, was the unconscious sign of her.
This must have been fairly comforting since his intention became one of copulation.
Removing his shirt only (so as not to appear too ape like) he headed for her favourite spot in the garden. Pausing only to grab the half-full bottle of Irish Whiskey from the table on his way through. As he stepped out onto the unpaved terrace he heard her voice. It called to him faintly and yet held the greatest urgency in its cadence.
Kurt looked about in all directions. No sign. Her voice became louder and increased in intensity of emotion. Finally, Kurt looked up…

They were not found for several days. The impact had been so tremendous that it had driven the bodies together and half buried them both in the soft sand of the terrace. The next day it had rained, which made the autopsy even more difficult. Certainly, the cause of death was obvious, but people just love to tie up loose ends. It seems that there was some concern over the blood. Whether or no drugs were present and if indeed this may have been a contributing factor. At one point it was even believed that the whole incident had been intentional. A suicide pact. In the end, none could say. The bodies were so well mashed together, that any constructive medical procedure would have taken way too long to justify in light of the obvious lack of a third party. Forensic science was stumped. Try as they might they were simply unable to determine why the parachute did not open. It was as if the Rip Chord had not been touched. This was ridiculous in light of the fact that it was found in what remained of Felicity's grasp. In time, the forces of scientific investigation were forced to admit that the only two persons capable of shedding any light on the incident were going to remain silent, since they were the parties involved.

Finally, the bodies (or more accurately, body) were released to the families. When presented with the difficulty of an appropriate burial for their respective offspring, the two families opted for cremation and the ashes were spread across a glass still lake by the light of the full moon.

Bringde-uh was suspicious. He stood smelling a handful of the huge swordfish that the group had beached. This did not smell right. Yet he was hungry. So he did not throw it away. It seemed that the others were trying to trick him. He went around to the other side of the huge fish to get another piece. Perhaps that would smell better. It did. So he ate it.

N B; The depletion of the worlds consumable fish recourses is occurring at an alarming rate. In May 1993 ev, the FAO (the United Nations Food and Agriculture Organization) warned "one quarter of the planet's biodiversity is in danger of extinction in the next 30 years." The FAO reports that Seven out of Ten (69%) of the oceans commercially targeted marine fish stocks are either fully or heavily exploited.

           Fra; A

Last updated on the 21.September.00