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How To Make Peach Cobbler

Scene Two


[The group is getting situated in the middle of the Star system called Libra to talk to the Cobbler, pulling up chairs with stars on them]


Here they all are, the General, the Captain, the Colonel, the Governor, the Pope, the King himself, and I the Cobbler make seven.


The Cobbler. The Cobbler they call me, I guess because I build stones walls, in and around areas and better things; I do this throughout the Universe and that creates some angry beings; why, you ask, the reason being, when they go from one location to another, they have to slow down when they get to these walls, it makes them think you know. Why not make the slow down and make them think, is my philosophy, or one of them anyhow; I mean, if without a doubt, you possess that capability, and I do. Sure, sure, but why I do that—you are asking, but if they don’t slow down, they will be knocked out for a spill, and I want them to slow down. I guess I do it because I’m bored, and again, I’m not sure if that is a good reason, but it is the only one I got; I don’t lie, because I don’t know how to, don’t need to, have no reason to, and that is why I got thinking of the missing link, or links, and need you folks to slow down, and think of what is missing, and if I had not slowed you down, you would not be here, thinking, what I want you to be thinking of…if in fact, that makes sense, and it should


you, or they can’t destroy me, that kind of war was done away with so long ago no one even thinks like that anymore, not out here at any rate. You or they [They being, those who have not come, but were invited] they do not have the same-strange powers I have, they have others. I am not a loner but I like my privacy, and when the ‘God, god’ left our kind, he gave us 100,000-years to be alone if we so chose, perhaps to think, conceivably to think about thinking, what we are missing; so that gives me all the time in the world to build walls, to think and to call you folks here. Everyone knows I am old, and my chromosomes are breaking, I am dying. They should last a million years, but it’s better than what it was 80,000-years ago. So why squabble over spilt milk.


The General. Ok, let’s all sit by this star and see what the Cobbler has to say, more to say. I hope its good; I came a few trillion miles to be here.


[They’re all sitting now in a circle, the King is older than the Cobbler, and seems to be falling asleep; the Captain is the youngest of the group, and the smart-alecky personage.]


The Captain. Well Cobbler, I hope this is worthwhile. Are you going to take some of them walls down, I keep bumping into now, now that you got me here? The only things they do are stopping me for a spill, and make me think of you—angrily, annoyingly.


The Cobbler. Yes, that is why you are here. Because of that, I suppose one might say.


The King. [Woke up, his eyes peering over his fat eyelids]. You always were a little odd there, Mr. Cobbler.


The Cobbler. Yes, I suppose I am, no doubt; I want to propose that all of us to use our power and prayer, to create a new generation of beings. I have four things I want to instill into these new beings. Things I believe were taken from us by the “God, god” so long ago. If we can do that, we will have done something great for the Universe as a whole.


The King. Strange you are, definitely, Mr. Cobbler, but fist things first, you’re first question is an assumption, or better put, your statement-question is not compete: let me complete it for you: whom, here would like to contribute something, that might me nothing to a Universe that knows nothing about what you want to give them, or it, for nothing, yet for some odd reason you have, other than that you need our help to created this new unneeded, unwanted, unreal thing called a new species, or being.


The Colonel. I am, as you know, should know, may know, a scientist, and although creating a new species is not the most difficult thing to do, it is a hard thing to do; and to instill something lost, something we do not know of, or what it is, for whatever reasons, might be an act we cannot do, or should not do, especially if it was taken from us in the first place, as you say, in the first place because we could not deal with it. And remember, oh yes, remember please, Mr. Cobbler, we don’t know what it is, we only know what we’ve been told, what you’ve told us, or suspect perhaps, or better yet, we may discover by putting all our minds together.


The Cobbler. I think we can do this, by way of using all our powers, for we among the entire Universe are the only ones that can, if it can be done the way we want it to be done. I want to change the cell structure of a being like me, and put a code into it, if it can be, into a living gene. The code will read according to its previous owner. Therefore it will be duplicated automatically. But he or she can change it as they grow into adulthood, or maturity. The problem is, the chromosomes will break after a short period of time, say 1000-years. And if we are successful, and they do what we did life will be extended, and I forgot what we did to get what we got, and one of the things we got other than, longevity in years to live, was ‘God, god,’ mad us; thus, we could lose what they we have left, longevity, and not gain what we lost, that got ‘God, god,’ mad at us in the first place.


On another note, we will, in these beings, or they will be hope, for we will put our code into them, our genes, and then we will with the Colonel’s help, instill four things. Perhaps we might get ‘God, god,’ back in our life, and eternal life.


The King. “Yaw, yaw, I’m too old to give a sh…t, I even forgot how to say that and I’ve never even done that; but it sounds like something to do. I’m for it. Out of boredom, that is.


[The entire group stares at the cobbler.]


The Captain. “Ok, let’s find out what we’re missing.”


The Cobbler. Now we’re getting someplace. Now, Captain, what do you do all day long [the captain just staring at the Cobbler, shaking his head as if to say nothing—you fool, you know that.] See, I knew it, you do nothing, I mean you are thinking what I already knew: nothing. That is why you came here to see me, because it is something.


The Captain. More riddles from the Cobbler, so you are right, I do nothing. Get on with the show.


The Cobbler. Well, as I told you, that is why I build walls, because I’m tired of doing nothing, and that is something. But what is that called, Mr. Pope?


The Pope. It has been a long time since I had to think like this. Not sure, but, I sense something wants to come out, you know something called spoken words, with real sounds: that has been missing for me. I suppose I must exercise my mouth, heavens forbid, it will be a task.


The Cobbler. It is called desire. When ‘God, god’ walked away, he took desire with him. That way we would not seek him, and he was pissed, I mean Royal-mad. Now desire can lead you from the ‘god,’ to the ‘God’, you see; does that make sense?


The Pope. I hope this is not a God thing—completely, I mean, who is God? On the other hand, it makes sense, if you can conceive it to be so; yes, it does. I hope your hope has a plan for us that will restore your sanity at the end of this meeting, Mr. Cobbler. Perhaps we can all use our powers to restore you to the way you were thinking before, which was not as hopeless as now.


The Cobbler. We don’t sir; we give it to the new beings—hope that is. [The Pope’s face starts to droop, perhaps it was a sassy way he presented his opinion, but somehow, sassy or not, under it, he wanted hope to survive for him, and them, and now you can see that on his face] Now the next items on the agenda is something called ‘faith,’ otherwise known as believing, and it can also be called trust. All these things I realize are alien to us but we had them at one time.


The King. What does this ‘faith’ demand of us, and what can it do for us, or for the new beings you are talking about, I do hope we get something out of all this?


The Cobbler. Good question, your majesty. But let me just back track a little. If you take desire away, you are the walking dead, like us who need for nothing, wish nor want for nothing: no reason to go on, but we do, you do, because we can, and cannot kill ourselves. Faith is similar; you know something even though you do not see it. Out here in the Universe, we talk to one another, and if we don’t, we have no way of transmitting our …whatever those things are called—: words with ideas attached to them, or ideas with emotions surrounding them, or opinions that have thinking draining through them. But faith says there is something to go home to that is after your dead: perhaps it is God. You see My King, you are feeling, or thinking, or maybe not either one, death is no more then getting out of this boring Universe. Faith takes with it desire, and they connect with ‘God-god,’ both together. Now you can feel him, and you are aware of him. Does it make sense?


The King. Nothing makes sense, only that you have an idea that we were more than what we are at one time, and lost it, and you want to create something, that has what we lost, and never will have, nor be able to experience, because it is no longer with us, and when we die, we will not be able to connect with ‘God, god,’ so the cloud of darkness will forever silence us; and you want to give the opportunity to this new found life, what we lost—God. Is this not so? And if it is, I’m a little annoyed with it, perhaps its envy, if even this foolishness was practical. On the other hand, I suppose I could say: I like it, but why should I care?


The Cobbler. If we create these beings and put in them what we lost, they can pray for us, and maybe the “God-god,” will restore us to reality, hoping that reality will be with him, eternally; something along that line, but you got to have faith first.


The King. Haw! Mysterious thing this thing called faith, and hope, and all that stuff, in a universe with so much brightness and darkness, but I like that part, the part where we die and are put into darkness, and by some thing called hope, because we created something with hope, we get brightness, it is a reward I presume: you give, you get; no, no, let me say that again: you give, you hope you get; not sure if I like that part, but I don’t want to come back to this big open space of colored lights either, not for another 100,000-years anyway: I’d prefer to stay in the dark, silently.


The Cobber. The two words I want to talk about are apprehension [he sees its term more on the order of: fear and hesitation] and insecurity [doubt vs. confidence]. You see we do not have any of these, call them emotions, or what have you. We chose somehow to be free of them, or when ‘God, god,’ walked away he took them with him: not sure what happened, but of course, these emotions are hard to come by, if undeniably, He didn’t forget to take that with Him. These emotions are not entirely the motivation for a person to seek out and learn about his creator, but they are pieces in a puzzle, when taken out, leaves the puzzle unworkable. This friends, I’ve found out to be true, and a missing link of some quality.


The Colonel. Emotions, feelings, missing links, hope, faith, new beings, it all is a ting much for a morning meeting I’d say, but I believe, I can do it. I have a scientific formula that can mix these ingredients into our cells, but they would only infect our offspring, for us it would simply be an antiviral.


The Cobbler. That is what I am talking about. So let’s do it.


See Dennis' web site: http://dennissiluk.tripod.com


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