The Greatest Story Ever Told

Ok, are you ready? This is very simple. We are going to write a story thru this thread. You can write a word, a sentence, a paragraph, that's all up to you! You may want to participate as many times you want. Make sure what the person before you has posted and continue where she/he has left. When you are replying to this post, please make sure you hit the reply to this particular thread so story follows more smoothly!
The charachters are going to us the SuperHeroes. You can use anyone in this lounge.
So, who wants to start the story? A sentence, a paragraph, or if you want to write more. go ahead!!

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Once upon A time, in a Country far, far away lived Super-Monad. He and his little super hero helper, Brian Boy, were to save the world from immenent danger. In this episode, Brian Boy…

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….fearless and determined, he decided to “change the world”. He locked himself in a hotel room in Southern California for two days to brainstorm ideas in order to accomplish his mission. At the end of the 2 days a great idea popped up in his mind! This tiny idea had a chance.  It was just like a “seed”.

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The Dutch couple next door, which were spreading their 'Zaad' Gave him a beautiful Idea. Never before a concept of such easy came out of such a little hole, and as his mouth opened, history was made. But, due to his pore knowledge of the dutch language, an extra 'Z' was added. Thus Zaadz was born, But as faith would have it, all of the sudden…..

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…. he realized it was getting too late. He needed some sleep.  He went upstairs in his bedroom to wear his favorite pajamas which said “Kappa Kappa Gamma, OMG, I LOVE UCLA” on the back, which was given to him by one of his ex-girlfriends who attended UCLA.
He quickly changed and got into his bed. It was a big day tomorrow and he needed some good rest. He grabbed the book on top of the table right next to the bed. It was “Leaves of Grass” by Walt Whitman. He began to read, and after a couple of pages he fell asleep. Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

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And then BOOOOM!!!!  A loud sound woke him from his precious slumber!  He couldn't believe what he was seeing!!  Right there in his bedroom was a….

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A HUGE BOX!  A HUGE HUGE BOX, that had arrived late yesterday - & he'd been too tired to open it up - bounced about the room. suddenly the box, making one last huge booming noise, burst open and books flew out, and magazines flew out and a beautiful cream colored T-shirt flew out of the box and THEN out of the box and right into his lap lept the …………………..

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Rabbit with a big clock. Telling him to hurry! En so they went down the rabbit hole. 'What the *bleep*?!?!' Cried Brian Boy out! what is happening? where is my shirt? Where you want it to be! sad the rabbit. And so it was, and magicaly as if his mind was to paly with it, the magic letters Zaadz appeared on the shirt. Then, the end of the line, He fell out of the rebbit hole, straight into….

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a parking lot in front of a Dunkin' Donuts in Pomona.  It had begun to rain.  The air was fragrant and chill.  A cold wind ruffled his jammies, which were beginning to get wet.  He staired down at the giant alarm clock, thinking how useless it was now.  His bare feet splashed in the puddles as he headed toward the brightly lit donut shop.  He entered to the throb of fresh coffee and the intoxication of warm, fresh donuts.  But he didn't have a dime!  Feeling rather foolish, he looked up at the smiling woman at the counter and said,

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“What am I to do next?” 

She replied, “You must go see the Oracle if you need help.  She will guide you to your abudance.”

“Where is this Oracle?” he implored.

“Listen to the winds.  You can hear her voice calling you.”  She smiled that wry smile of *knowing* who the Oracle was.

And so he listened intently to the message on the wind…  “Look around… and where you least expect it… you will find warmth and nourishment.”

He felt satiate … and begun to consider the Oracle's words in other areas of his life … like….

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his game of soccer. With the winds in his hair, and the fresh smell of donuts still inside his nostrels, he went outside, to play soccer with the kids outside. It seemed as his second nature, but the wind made it his first. The ball itself was as an extention of himself, and though the magic rabbit out of the box had disapeared into oblivience, the kids were joyfull, wondering which team he was, with that odd looking shirt he was wearing. Thus, a few hours passed, as the winds once again led him, all the way to….

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An august 12th gathering of people who called themselves Zaadsters and talked about being Fluffy. He was most curious about these unusual folks who………………..

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who often wandered around message boards and spread love through electronic messages.
He suddenly remembered that soft voice “..listen to the winds…”

Who was she?
And what did she mean by the Oracle?

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He thought he heard her soft voice calling, the answer to the question so close!  But, alas, the wind began to blow again and it was not a soft breeze but a whoosh of very strong wind!  He felt himself tumble and topple and then fall down altogether.  Ouch!  Good heavens, here he found himself in the high desert of Idaho and although the sage brush he had landed upon smelt quite heavenly it didn't make for a soft landing.  He stood up, brushed himself off and began walking through the barren field of sage brush and lava rocks, having no idea what he was to do next!

Presently he came upon a cow.  The cow looked at him and he looked back.  “Wuz up?” he asked the cow.  The cow snorted.  “Say,” he ventured, “Do you know what an Oracle is?”  The cow lifted it's tail and….well, you know.  “Well, maybe not.  Hmm, you don't talk, huh?”

He heard laughter behind him.  He spun around and there stood an honest-to-God cowboy!  “Where'd you come from boy, the city?” laughed the cowboy,  “Cows don't talk!”

He felt himself blush with embarrassment, “Well, yeah, I know that!”
“Are you lost, sonny?”
“Errrr….I'm not sure.  I thought I had it figured out but now I'm feeling a little lost again.”
The cowboy adjusted his wide brimmed hat and spit  a stream of tobacco juice several feet,  “You aren't doing drugs, are you son?”

He thought about it.  Maybe someone had slipped something in his drink at some point and this really was all a dream! 

The cowboy cleared his throat,  “Look, fella, why don't you come on to the ranch with me and I'll have the Missus fix us up a nice lunch.  Whatdayasay?”

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“I would love to” he said softly. He began to feel safer. “Maybe they will help me to find the Oracle”, he thought.


(END OF CHAPTER ONE!!!!!!!!!! YAY FOR US ALL THE SUPERHEROES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

CHAPTER 2


Upon entering the ranch…

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which stretched out under the sun and sagebrush at the end of a one-lane private road, he followed the cowboy through a gate fashioned from wagon wheels.  As he gazed at the wheels, a feeling of vertigo almost overwhelmed him, as if his spirit were being plucked from his body and drawn into the whirling spokes of the wheel…which couldn't possibly be turning…and yet…  somehow he had lost track of time.  As he regained the feeling of his feet supporting him solidly on the road, he realized the cowboy was saying, “…been part of that Indian medicine man blessing that makes this place real special.  They say these parts are waitin' for a particular person who has a certain strong personal medicine, I don't know what for.  Stories are just stories.”  But as he heard the cowboy's words, a thought crystalized in his brain, so bright and clear, and he knew

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…he was the one, but what did that mean? What was the one to do? Suddenly a big gust of wind blow and a piece of paper slammed in his face. It was addressed to The ONE. It said go to Banger Maine to find the true Oracle.

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He looked up to tell the cowboy that he was so sorry but that he needed to leave right away and blinked….huh?  Snow?  He shivered and then noticed a crowd gathering near a bookstore.  He followed and found himself jostled and shoved through the door.  It was warm and there was that heavenly smell of coffee again. 

A young woman beside him, dressed in a neon pink down jacket, suddenly shouted, “There he is, there he is!”

He followed her pointing finger to a table and then noticed a rather rabbity looking fellow approaching that table.  “Who is it?” he asked the young woman.  She looked at him incredulously,  “Are you serious?  That is the pride of Maine.  Stephen King!”  He looked again and, yes, it was Stephen King who was looking straight at him and grinning….

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'Mr. Anderson, how nice of you to join us.' Mister King replied. 'Smith?' Brian asked. 'No' said Stephen, 'I am Richard Bachman, And I have recently deseaced'. ' But, If you are dead, how can you be here? How can you be alive, that is ridicilous. You cannot be dead, and alive at the same time!' Brian replied. 'And why are you calling me Mr. Anderson?' . ' Are you not the one?' Bachman replied? ' I am not Mr. Anderson if that is what you mean' Brian replied'.
'I'm just as much not the one, as you are not a desceased person'. The Richard replied: 'Well then, it looks like you really are the one'… Then Brien replied: '….

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“What is that green rock over there?”

“Oh you noticed, yes of couse, I see it in your eyes you are getting weaker” Mr. Bachman said laughing.

“No I feel fine” replied Brien.

Mr. Bachman still laughing said “this rock is from a far away planet I'm sure you are familiar with, oh the weakness in your eyes, I see it intensafiy.”

“I'm sorry Mr. Bachman but I feel stronger than ever, are you sure you are not thinking about somebody else?” Brian responded looking confused.

…..long pause….

“Oh stupid, stupid me, the wrong one, it's the one in the blue tights not pj's.” Mr. Bachman said while hitting his head.

After another long pause Mr. Bachman kindly said “I'm sorry my mind has been confused ever since that dreadful day when…

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I discovered I had developed cancer of the pseudonym, the disease from which I later passed away.”

“Huh?” said Brian.

“It’s a rare form of schizonomia,” explained Bachman.

“Is it contageous?” asked Brian.

“Yes,” answered Bachman. “I can tell you are developing it yourself. You’re not who you think you are.”

In a rare burst of insight, Brian looked deeply into Bachman’s eyes and answered him, “I am the One, and I seek the Oracle. The truth of my situation is worth 1,000 years of your confusion. Either assist me or get out of my way.”

“Your way is my way, and my way is your way!” laughed Bachman, drawing closer and closer to Brian. Just at that moment

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…the sky began to cloud over and Mr. Bachman became disoriented.

Rather than reach for the umbrella at his side, he began mumbling insanely about how this wasn't really rain, it was…..

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A Divine Golden Mist.

It was, according to Mr. Bachman, THE most “Pure and Heavenly Golden Shower” one could experience. It was, he said, “A gift from God's own Golden Retriever.”

Mr. Bachman lifted his face and hands towards the sky letting the fine mist settle on his now blissfully radiant expression, “Roses…” he whispered.  “Fragrant roses…”


 

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Our friend, who was at first enchanted by the Golden Mist, pulled his jacket over his head for protection after learning it's source.  Even if it was God's dog ….well, you know.

“Look, dude,” he said to Mr. Bachman,  “I still don't understand what all of this has to do with the Oracle.  Do you have any idea at all?”

Mr. Bachman may have had the answer.  It's very possible.  Unfortunately, he had mysteriously disappeared and our friend found himself alone once again>  He looked around in bewilderment…

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…. and in that moment he realized what the Oracle's call had reminded him to do… “Listen to the winds.”  And he knew he had to stop looking around him to connect with the answers that would lead him to the Oracle.

He closed his eyes… took a deep relaxing breath… and on the exhale he listened to the winds as he was guided to do.  “Where do I need to go, Oracle?” he implored in his thoughts…

“Shhh…shhhhhh….. go back.” he heard… so gently that he thought he'd imagined the voice…

Her voice called him to “Go back”… but back to where?  He listened again…. “Shhh… shhhh” the breeze now carried with it a familiar scent and a new mist…. this time the sensation of mist was a cool and light, windswept touch to the face…. he wanted to breathe it all in!

His heart lept and the knowledge that entered his whole body…. “The ocean!  I need to get back to the ocean.”

……

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His eyes covered with mist, and the thought of returning to the ocean, he blinked….

As he blinked he remembered what Malcom Gladwell said in his book “Blink” about improvisation.

He blinked again and again and again, as if to blink himself back in time. He was confused. The ocean? Mr. Bachman?

Slightly disillusioned, he looked down towards the ground. To his amazement, he was standing ankle deep in white rose petals!  The ground was covered in them.

When he looked up again, the sky had turned from the oppresive dark gray to swirls of vibrant orange and violet. He felt different… more at peace… not craving the answers with such intensity. This strange new feeling came over him rather suddenly. He didn't feel as if he needed to be anywhere other than where he was at this very moment. Now what?

His attention turned to a small girl, who was approaching. She had a large basket and was collecting the rose petals from the ground - one by one. As she got closer, he could see that she was not really a little girl, but a….

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a rather old woman. Just how old was difficult to tell as her appearance kept changing. First wrinkled cheeks and brow with wise eyes and laugh lines, then baby soft skin with rosy cheeks and eyes full of innocence. This was happening wasn’t it? He remembered what he’d just seen except then her face was older, or younger yet again.

Could this be the Oracle he sought? She was humming to herself. No not humming, mumbling, almost indiscernible, “Your way is my way, and my way is your way,” she said over and over in a sing song quiet voice. He stood there listening and watching as she changed and picked rose petals and mumbled and approached where he was.

As she was about to pass him she looked him right in the eye for a moment before returning to her task and moving past him. He was struck with a thought…

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…he thought, “This is no ordinary person, but no oracle, either.  This must be the Crone, the Grandmother of the World, and she's looking for the oracle, too.  How long she must have despaired over humanity's self-caused suffering; how many eons she must have watched, ever hoping that we might finally recognize the illusion of separateness and rejoin the community of the earth.  Maybe we can find the oracle together.  I'd love to hear what she'd ask her.”

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as he turned to follow her, Brian felt a breeze aid his movement as if
his limbs were those of a tree, gently swaying.  He saw the Crone move
onward as she became enveloped in a brilliant glow.  He listened
to her soft voice, “Your way is my way, and my way is your way,” as he felt the warmth on his face and chest…

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“power in numbers” he thought. This was going to be a long journey.
“We need a game plan” he said looking at his new team-mate.

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And she said, in that voice that sounded like wind through leaves, “If my way is your way, then their way is our way.  Gather them as many as the roots in the dirt, and well pull up from the earth the energy we need to go where we must go.”

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Thus, his very first follower joined his side in the search of peace, love and wisdom. he remembered the ocean, and as it sounded at sunset at the west coast. But he had no Idea how to get there, he didn't even know where he was. let alone be an ocean. And he had to care for the crown aswell. Thus, he prayed, he prayed to a god, he didn't knew would exist. Or whether this single moment of faith in the world, he didn't fully understand, and where only the winds whispered wisdom in his ears. So instead of praying, he stoped. He looked down, down to the earth that was given to him. And over the beautiful flowers, stretching out as far as the eye could see. He looked closer, very close. And was shocked, by the sudden appearence of one of Bachman's old Friends, The ghost of Odyssius. 'Why have you called me from my home?' Odyssius asked. 'How can I call you from your home, when I do not even know where that is?' Brian replied. 'But can you be sure you didn't?' Odyssius replied. ' you see, there are no right or wrongs, no good or bads, only a mix, of which all of you take part of.' (as Odyssius groomed his wings) All around you, including me, are but figments of your vived imagination. A fantasy world, as you can say. A place where truth is so subjective, that your mind plays with it. A bit like  reality actually' On which Brian responded: 'How can this be a dream, If I know everything is real! and if such beautifull things are given to me.' Odyssius said:' Well, if you decide to bring up beauty and reality for arguments of being awake, I suggest you wake up!' Brian: 'What?'  ' Wake up!'  Dais Odyssius as he threw a plate of purridge into Brian's face.
Then, through the smoke, came a face, It was the face of super-monad, who had taking him away from california, to….

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leave behind the conjuring of Odysius, which echoed faintly and more faintly still somewhere behind him. “Where?” asked Brian, disoriented.

The Crone’s powerful energy field and rose scents emerged on his left side. “I struck him down!” exclaimed the Crone. “He was not worthy!”

“Who?” asked Brian.

“She struck down Odysius, of course!” came the ringing voice and clear energy of Super Monad on his right side.

“We are now three!” intoned the Crone and Super Monad together–and surprised, Brian felt his own voice, musical and confident, speaking with theirs as their syllables rang out throughout the

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amphitheater.  They stood before a crowd of people, some young, some not so young, all gathered together, attracted by posters that said, “Let's change the world.”

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amphitheater.  They stood before a crowd of people, some young, some
not so young, all gathered together, attracted by posters that said,
“Let's change the world.”
The posters were waving, the crowd was swaying, the light was dancing, and suddenly the world was spinning and moving away through a tunnel echoing with far away sounds, and he felt himself falling…
Boy Brian woke up in his comfortable southern California hotel room, blinked a few times and looked around.  Leaves of Grass was lying open, face down on his chest over the blanket. He picked the book up and read, ” There was a child went forth every day;
And the first object he look'd upon, that object he became;
And that object became part of him for the day, or a certain part of
the day, or for many years, or stretching cycles of years…” and he thought that that was so very cosmic and that this had been such an odd and vivid dream but at least he could go grab a cup of coffee and get on with his day and tell some people about this weird and amazing dream. And he reached down to pull back the blanket and his hand came away with rose petals, which scattered around his room and as he moved out from under his rose petal blanket he knew that something very unusual was happening. But he didn't yet know quite what.
And as he stood sleepy-eyed in his favourite jammies, wading through rose petals and poems, he heard the strange sound of

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roaring, like nothing he'd heard before, like a thousand lions all claiming their territory at once.  He followed the sound to his balcony, and discovered that somehow the entire building was now situated at the edge of a huge waterfall.  Barely taken aback, after so many strange occurances, he began to wonder if someone had put something in his food, though this felt more real than any drug experience he'd had or heard of.

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“Impressive, isn't it?” said a clear and musical baratone voice almost in his left ear.  He felt the warm breath of the speaker touch his skin, and perceived the words easily over the roar of the falls.  He quickly turned to find Super Monad standing there with him, and in his hands, Super Monad held…

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a small and oddly shaped package, wrapped in tattered fabric which couldn't have looked all that good in it's best days. Brian said “Brought your lunch, did you? Probably a good idea, I'm not sure the food here is agreeing with me, things have been kind of odd lately…” “It isn't my lunch,” interrupted SM, “this is for you. Use it carefully.” He handed the package off to Brian and as an afterthought added “By the way, keep it with you at all times and – don't eat it!” Brian looked down at the odd package in his hands, and when he glanced back up, SM was nowhere to be seen. The package was small and kind of flat, with an irregular shape to it. It could fit into a good-sized pocket, he thought, or tucked inside a shirt, or - oh well, there was no avoiding this part of the adventure, so he slowly folded back the worn fabric and found

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a mirror, obviously ancient, framed in gold inlaid with precious unfaceted stones, a rainbow of potency that shone with inner fire.  The glass was slightly mottled with age, but still offered a clear reflection.  Taking out the mirror by its handle, spiraled like a unicorn's horn, Brian observed himself in it, then saw that in the box was a note.

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Boy Brian unfolded the note carefully and and read:

A noiseless, patient spider,
I mark'd, where, on a little promontory, it stood, isolated;
Mark'd how, to explore the vacant, vast surrounding,
It launch'd forth filament, filament, filament, out of itself;
Ever unreeling them–ever tirelessly speeding them.

And you, O my Soul, where you stand,
Surrounded, surrounded, in measureless oceans of space,
Ceaselessly musing, venturing, throwing,–seeking the spheres, to
connect them;
Till the bridge you will need, be form'd–till the ductile anchor
hold;
Till the gossamer thread you fling, catch somewhere, O my Soul.

At the bottom of the note, in faded letters, were the words, “love, WW”

Well, thought Brian, as clue-givers go, Walt Whitman was a very good poet. What was all this bit about bridges and anchors and spider webs, and what exactly did it mean to him? He folded the note and put it in his pocket and  turned to go back into his hotel room to collect his things. This was when Brian realized that the balcony was no longer attached to a hotel at all, but instead seemed to be standing on its own as a very nice lookout over the very large waterfall. As he turned back to the waterfall he saw in front of him the largest spider he had ever seen, dangling on a lovely, shiny thread. Now, Boy Brian wasn't one to be squeamish about spiders, but this one was the size of a small dog and had large sharp pincers and was staring at him with what he felt might be a hungry expression. Brian wasn't too sure about his ability to interpret the facial expressions of spiders, but he felt that he probably should do something or other fairly soon. As he pulled the note back out to see if it held any clues he might have missed, the mirror he held in his hand turned toward the spider, and much to Boy Brian's surprise

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the spider spoke.  Or at least he was pretty sure it was the spider, though he wasn't absolutely sure, since the spider's mouth wasn't moving (spiders don't have vocal chords, after all).  But the spider was the only other being present, and there was a voice, not his own nor one he'd ever heard before, speaking clearly in his mind.

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What is reality? How do you know if you are awake or asleep?

I am Maya, from the land of dreams! I'm here to awaken a hidden power within you… you have a very special power… but you have forgotten… you were born with the power to weave dreamscapes of infinite possibilities, where you can manipulated realities and shift destinies!

But first you must master The Secret… for without this ancient knowledge, you would not be able to channel your power…

The Secret is…

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and the spider seemed to be…chuckling. “Am I dreaming then, or is there any difference?” wondered Brian, and as he stared at the spider he realized it seemed to be growing quite a bit larger, and looking kind of lumpy and a little out of sorts, and then he realized he was looking into the face of the Crone, who laughed and said “It wouldn't be much of a secret if it was that easy, now would it?”
And she climbed down the ladder which appeared off the side of their platform and trundled off into the forest, humming a little chant:  “your way is my way, my way is your way…” and Boy Brian pocketed his mirror and hurried to catch up. As he dropped down onto the soft earth at the bottom of the ladder he turned and saw Super Monad and the Crone walking ahead of him, arm in arm, humming their little tune together. And as he approached them he realized

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that as the sound of the waterfall behind him diminished, the sound of
many voices humming the Crone's lyric were coming from up ahead. 
Brian suddenly felt calm and excited, simultaneously.  The
combined voices were both comforting and energizing, pulling him
onward.

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He wasn't sure what he was going to say, but he knew that in just a few moments, he was going to be addressing a crowd of people eager to change the world for the better.  Not exactly intimidated, he had to admit to himself the slightest nagging fear that, when it came time, words might fail him.

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Then it hit him. He didn’t need words. Slowly, and quietly at first he began to whistle. The notes that flew from between his pursed lips were sweet, melodious, and certainly catchy. Little by little, he noticed those around him began to listen to his whistling. Then something happen, as if he were the Pied Piper of Hamelin, others began to pick up on his tune, and join in. Little by little the tune got louder and louder…

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and richer and deeper–not windy whistling now, but rich orchestral moaning, as if the people and the earth itself which nestled them, the trees and the grasses, the skies and the sunlight were reaching a sort of climax!!!  But the sounds bursting together began to separate into harmonic groups– there were C and G, a fifth, here, and D and F, a third, and E and A, a fourth, and so on the intervals chimed from the throats of the crowd, the branches of the trees–even, it seemed, the wind itself. 

Suddenly, from the middle of the crowd, the crone strode quickly toward Brian.  She was dressed like a 19th century Norwegian farmer's wife.  She planted herself in front of him and spoke:  “Sun to Earth a fourth, Sun to Mars a fifth.  These are small, small matters.  Have you ever wondered, Brian, of the ratios of the heavens?  Can you know the songs that weave filiments among the stars?  Have you heard the music of the spheres?”

And Brian answered

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“Only in dream.”

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The Crone smiled gently,  “And are you sure it was a dream?”….

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And Brian found that he felt at this moment as if his heart had always longed to travel through the universe.  He felt as if he, although a tiny, fragile human being, had somehow always been able to soar through the cosmos unimpeded, free!  And yet, here he stood with his feet securely resting on the soft brown earth–but wait…. if this were a dream, then he would not actually be standing on the earth…

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yet he could feel the solid ground beneath his feet, could feel his own nervous energy flowing into it through his feet, could feel the force of gravity keeping him pressed into it, and he found it reassuring.  At once he understood exactly what being grounded meant, and he was grateful for the planet's great receptive capacity.

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“These are the true gifts of the Earth,” the Crone advised him. “You are grounded and connected through your flesh and your heart. One doesn’t learn to fly until one knows his connection to the ground.” The Crone’s eyes burned into his awareness. “If you do want to learn to fly, Brian, you must answer a question first: Why, why, why do you want to fly?”

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UN-PAUSE (from a 9 month break)

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THIS IS THE END OF THE STORY!


( I guess ZAADZ is gone)
(I wonder why they had to change the name?? Maybe the guy owns GAIA couldn't make the name GAIA popular, so she/he decided to make bunch of money so he can buy things and change the name to GAIA. She/he didn't have enough money to MYSPACE…. If she/he did, that would be kind of pimp….MYGAIA.com…… Too much money…. I guess our friendly philosopher Brian was ready to dump Zaadz….)

Oh well, SHIT HAPPENS!

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I can see how this would be odd after a nine month break, but here are a lot of great comments and a good explanation for someone just coming into all the recent events.

There are actually a lot of good things happening, check it out if you have time.

Oh, I just got a new Vizsla puppy! Now there are two of them.