Namuh Visits Earth, Page 2
Joe DiBuduo
but that happened infrequently. The last time was two million years ago.
It was a comfortable trip, and so relaxing, I was almost sorry when it was over, but I knew I had a job to do and the sooner, the better.
“Mr. Namuh, MR NAMUH,” the receptionist brought me out of my reverie. “Go with Big John here, he'll be your foreman.
“What’s your language?” he asked in English.
I didn’t answer immediately because I wasn’t sure what language I should speak. He asked the same question in Spanish, Tai Dam, Lao, Cambodian [Khmer], German, Korean, and Chinese. I thought only gods could speak so many languages. I answered him in English and that was the language we used.
I watched how the workers mercilessly killed thousands of their cousins, and beat, tormented and tortured them before slaughtering them. Big John took me to the area where cows were slaughtered. My Father had created cows in the image of my grandmother and every time a cow’s head was smashed with a sledge-hammer, I pictured my grandmother’s head being smashed. I had a very human reaction and puked all over Big John’s feet.
“Don’t worry, Namuh, you’ll get used to the blood and guts after a short time.” Big John said in Spanish and English to be sure I understood.
I puked again and felt wetness on my face.
“Jesus! Namuh, there’s nothing to cry about. They’re only goddamn cows,” Big John said.
I walked among the humans and saw that much had changed from what my father had created, but I found no sign of sabotage. I was granted God like powers so I would be able to fix any mistake my father had made. Whatever changed them into what they are must have come from within. When my father left this world to build another, he had left it in pristine condition and in balance. There was to be no master of this world other than himself, but now that he was gone, the humans were acting like they were the masters of this world.
“Namuh, Namuh.”
I heard my father calling me and looked up to where I knew he’d be if he visited this world. I saw the sky filled with billowing white clouds, and if he was here, he was hidden behind them.
“Forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
I knew it was my father speaking because I recognized his thunderous voice. “How can I forgive them after what they’ve done to your mother’s likeness? They’re not only cruel to their cousins, but they treat one another almost as badly as they do their cousins.”
“I’m at fault. When I designed humans I was a newly made God, and I didn’t program them with enough empathy or compassion. It’s not their fault.”
The clouds parted for an instant and I caught sight of my father floating high above the clouds. His appearance awed me as it always did, but because I was sent here to fix his mistake, I realized he wasn’t as perfect as I had always believed. This gave me the courage to say, “The Galactic Council sent me to fix your problem, and that’s what I intend to do.”
He knew better than to interfere with the Council’s directives.
“Do what you will Son, with my blessings.”
Lightning filled the sky as he left this world for another. His sudden departure caused heavy rain to fall as the clouds emptied, and the sky cried.
I traveled around the entire planet. In India, I came across a man crying while milking a cow. The sight of a grown human crying for no apparent reason intrigued me. I stopped to observe this phenomenon. He put bowl after bowl of milk on the ground, and rats came and fed from one bowl and snakes from the other. They ignored one another while they feasted on the delicacy put out for them.
“Why do you feed rats and snakes?” I asked the crying man.
“All life is sacred to me. I know for me to live other life must die to feed me. But that life that is taken for me to survive deserves to be respected for giving up its own life. But living things are callously killed with no regard or respect. ” He emptied the milk bucket into the bowls and started brushing the cow with a curry comb to clean her hair.
This reminded me of when I used to do the same for my grandmother. “But why are you crying?”
“This cow is owned by a non-Hindu, and he’s sending her to be slaughtered.” He wiped tears from his eyes and left.
My own eyes filled with tears when I pictured my grandma being hit on the head and having her throat slit. The man belonged to a sect known as Hinduism. In this sect the cow is considered sacred and its protection is a recurrent theme of the sanctity of all life, and of the earth that gives much while asking nothing in return. Hindus respected the cow as a matriarchal figure for her gentle qualities and nurturing milk. The cow holds an honored place in society, and it is part of Hindu tradition to avoid the consumption of beef. I decided to make Hindus god’s chosen people, as a reward for their benevolence toward the animals that were made in the image of my grandmother.
I used my godlike powers and returned to the animals what had been taken from them by humans through thousands of years of subjection and torture. The Hindu’s would profit from their loving relationship that they have had for so long with their cousins, unlike Humans elsewhere on this planet.
Soon after I returned the qualities to the cows I watched as a boy shouted, “Mom, mom, our cow spoke to me.”
“What did she say to you?” she asked in disbelief.
“She said her true name was Aadarshini, and she told me the world was about to change, and because we have honored her kind for so long we were to be rewarded.”
Now his mother was getting captivated as her son usually didn't construct stories.
“Let's go talk to Aadarshini,” she said, and walked to where the cow was kept.
“Hello, Vanalika,” the cow said. She couldn't believe her ears; the cow knew her name and spoke it. She fainted.
“Miracle talking cow discovered” The headlines blared around the world. The cow made the talk show circuit and was in demand everywhere. At first everyone thought it was a hoax until more and more cows started talking. When they tried to enroll their year old calves in school, humans refused them admittance, using the technicality that they needed to be five years old before they could register.
The cows started their own schools and learned in six months what it took a human lifetime to learn. Cows didn’t need hands to do their work, because all they had to do was think what it was they wanted done, and their powerful telekinesis minds would do the job.
Humans didn’t like the idea that the cows were smarter than them and were planning to exterminate them all. Before they could harm the peace loving cows I instilled into the cows psyche the power of telepathy so they could read the thoughts of any nearby human who meant them harm. I set it up so if and when a thought like that was recognized, the image would be sent back to the mind that originated the harmful thought. The image would be an unspeakable horror dredged from the hidden parts of the mind. Once the person received this image their brains couldn’t absorb the feelings and visions of terror, and instantly they turned into a helpless blubbering blob of insane flesh. They would never regain their sanity.
In a short period of time, there were 3.9 billion talking cows on Earth and they ran the world’s economy, and to keep them well fed, I put the next stage of my plan for revenge on humans into motion.
I consulted with the leaders of the cow community, “When humans were in charge, they ground up animal parts and fed them to other animals. I think it’s time we did the same,” I said while out of a long forgotten habit, I stroked one cow’s neck as I used to stroke my grandmother’s. She wasn’t upset and I know she enjoyed it by the way her tail waved.
“That’s a good idea. We’re ruining the environment trying to grow enough food to keep the humans fed. Some of the other animals wanted to let them starve, but all us cows thought it inhumane to do so,” she flicked a fly off her back with her tail.
The cows put the humans to work building thousands of structures worldwide. All based on designs the humans had themselves used for their slaug
hterhouses. Psychological designs made the structures attractive and hid the fact that slaughter was taking place. The entire slaughterhouse motif would be different from the old one. Set up in central cities, the facilities would be made so enticing that humans would find them irresistible, and clamor to be admitted.
I was taken on a tour by the cow in charge, “We have the humans employers tell them they’re being given a week off with pay, and free of charge they get to stay at one of the new resorts. If they have children under the age of fourteen, those children will be sent to Amusement Park Camp, where they’ll be attended by benevolent certified counselors. Most parents loved the idea of getting rid of their kids for a week. We need the young ones for the choice tender meats,” she let out a long throaty moooo. This was the cow’s way of chuckling.
She continued telling me how the “resorts” were set up as we walked close to the point where the children line up for the Haunted Tunnel where they’re loaded into small cars that held six.
“The louder the screams from within the tunnel,” she said, “the more excited the kids get, thinking how much fun they’re going to have being scared enough to scream like that,” she let out a low moo.
I watched as the kids eagerly jumped into the cars. Cows treated their young food supply much more compassionate than the humans ever treated theirs. “So they don’t have any fear at
It was a comfortable trip, and so relaxing, I was almost sorry when it was over, but I knew I had a job to do and the sooner, the better.
“Mr. Namuh, MR NAMUH,” the receptionist brought me out of my reverie. “Go with Big John here, he'll be your foreman.
“What’s your language?” he asked in English.
I didn’t answer immediately because I wasn’t sure what language I should speak. He asked the same question in Spanish, Tai Dam, Lao, Cambodian [Khmer], German, Korean, and Chinese. I thought only gods could speak so many languages. I answered him in English and that was the language we used.
I watched how the workers mercilessly killed thousands of their cousins, and beat, tormented and tortured them before slaughtering them. Big John took me to the area where cows were slaughtered. My Father had created cows in the image of my grandmother and every time a cow’s head was smashed with a sledge-hammer, I pictured my grandmother’s head being smashed. I had a very human reaction and puked all over Big John’s feet.
“Don’t worry, Namuh, you’ll get used to the blood and guts after a short time.” Big John said in Spanish and English to be sure I understood.
I puked again and felt wetness on my face.
“Jesus! Namuh, there’s nothing to cry about. They’re only goddamn cows,” Big John said.
I walked among the humans and saw that much had changed from what my father had created, but I found no sign of sabotage. I was granted God like powers so I would be able to fix any mistake my father had made. Whatever changed them into what they are must have come from within. When my father left this world to build another, he had left it in pristine condition and in balance. There was to be no master of this world other than himself, but now that he was gone, the humans were acting like they were the masters of this world.
“Namuh, Namuh.”
I heard my father calling me and looked up to where I knew he’d be if he visited this world. I saw the sky filled with billowing white clouds, and if he was here, he was hidden behind them.
“Forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
I knew it was my father speaking because I recognized his thunderous voice. “How can I forgive them after what they’ve done to your mother’s likeness? They’re not only cruel to their cousins, but they treat one another almost as badly as they do their cousins.”
“I’m at fault. When I designed humans I was a newly made God, and I didn’t program them with enough empathy or compassion. It’s not their fault.”
The clouds parted for an instant and I caught sight of my father floating high above the clouds. His appearance awed me as it always did, but because I was sent here to fix his mistake, I realized he wasn’t as perfect as I had always believed. This gave me the courage to say, “The Galactic Council sent me to fix your problem, and that’s what I intend to do.”
He knew better than to interfere with the Council’s directives.
“Do what you will Son, with my blessings.”
Lightning filled the sky as he left this world for another. His sudden departure caused heavy rain to fall as the clouds emptied, and the sky cried.
I traveled around the entire planet. In India, I came across a man crying while milking a cow. The sight of a grown human crying for no apparent reason intrigued me. I stopped to observe this phenomenon. He put bowl after bowl of milk on the ground, and rats came and fed from one bowl and snakes from the other. They ignored one another while they feasted on the delicacy put out for them.
“Why do you feed rats and snakes?” I asked the crying man.
“All life is sacred to me. I know for me to live other life must die to feed me. But that life that is taken for me to survive deserves to be respected for giving up its own life. But living things are callously killed with no regard or respect. ” He emptied the milk bucket into the bowls and started brushing the cow with a curry comb to clean her hair.
This reminded me of when I used to do the same for my grandmother. “But why are you crying?”
“This cow is owned by a non-Hindu, and he’s sending her to be slaughtered.” He wiped tears from his eyes and left.
My own eyes filled with tears when I pictured my grandma being hit on the head and having her throat slit. The man belonged to a sect known as Hinduism. In this sect the cow is considered sacred and its protection is a recurrent theme of the sanctity of all life, and of the earth that gives much while asking nothing in return. Hindus respected the cow as a matriarchal figure for her gentle qualities and nurturing milk. The cow holds an honored place in society, and it is part of Hindu tradition to avoid the consumption of beef. I decided to make Hindus god’s chosen people, as a reward for their benevolence toward the animals that were made in the image of my grandmother.
I used my godlike powers and returned to the animals what had been taken from them by humans through thousands of years of subjection and torture. The Hindu’s would profit from their loving relationship that they have had for so long with their cousins, unlike Humans elsewhere on this planet.
Soon after I returned the qualities to the cows I watched as a boy shouted, “Mom, mom, our cow spoke to me.”
“What did she say to you?” she asked in disbelief.
“She said her true name was Aadarshini, and she told me the world was about to change, and because we have honored her kind for so long we were to be rewarded.”
Now his mother was getting captivated as her son usually didn't construct stories.
“Let's go talk to Aadarshini,” she said, and walked to where the cow was kept.
“Hello, Vanalika,” the cow said. She couldn't believe her ears; the cow knew her name and spoke it. She fainted.
“Miracle talking cow discovered” The headlines blared around the world. The cow made the talk show circuit and was in demand everywhere. At first everyone thought it was a hoax until more and more cows started talking. When they tried to enroll their year old calves in school, humans refused them admittance, using the technicality that they needed to be five years old before they could register.
The cows started their own schools and learned in six months what it took a human lifetime to learn. Cows didn’t need hands to do their work, because all they had to do was think what it was they wanted done, and their powerful telekinesis minds would do the job.
Humans didn’t like the idea that the cows were smarter than them and were planning to exterminate them all. Before they could harm the peace loving cows I instilled into the cows psyche the power of telepathy so they could read the thoughts of any nearby human who meant them harm. I set it up so if and when a thought like that was recognized, the image would be sent back to the mind that originated the harmful thought. The image would be an unspeakable horror dredged from the hidden parts of the mind. Once the person received this image their brains couldn’t absorb the feelings and visions of terror, and instantly they turned into a helpless blubbering blob of insane flesh. They would never regain their sanity.
In a short period of time, there were 3.9 billion talking cows on Earth and they ran the world’s economy, and to keep them well fed, I put the next stage of my plan for revenge on humans into motion.
I consulted with the leaders of the cow community, “When humans were in charge, they ground up animal parts and fed them to other animals. I think it’s time we did the same,” I said while out of a long forgotten habit, I stroked one cow’s neck as I used to stroke my grandmother’s. She wasn’t upset and I know she enjoyed it by the way her tail waved.
“That’s a good idea. We’re ruining the environment trying to grow enough food to keep the humans fed. Some of the other animals wanted to let them starve, but all us cows thought it inhumane to do so,” she flicked a fly off her back with her tail.
The cows put the humans to work building thousands of structures worldwide. All based on designs the humans had themselves used for their slaug
hterhouses. Psychological designs made the structures attractive and hid the fact that slaughter was taking place. The entire slaughterhouse motif would be different from the old one. Set up in central cities, the facilities would be made so enticing that humans would find them irresistible, and clamor to be admitted.
I was taken on a tour by the cow in charge, “We have the humans employers tell them they’re being given a week off with pay, and free of charge they get to stay at one of the new resorts. If they have children under the age of fourteen, those children will be sent to Amusement Park Camp, where they’ll be attended by benevolent certified counselors. Most parents loved the idea of getting rid of their kids for a week. We need the young ones for the choice tender meats,” she let out a long throaty moooo. This was the cow’s way of chuckling.
She continued telling me how the “resorts” were set up as we walked close to the point where the children line up for the Haunted Tunnel where they’re loaded into small cars that held six.
“The louder the screams from within the tunnel,” she said, “the more excited the kids get, thinking how much fun they’re going to have being scared enough to scream like that,” she let out a low moo.
I watched as the kids eagerly jumped into the cars. Cows treated their young food supply much more compassionate than the humans ever treated theirs. “So they don’t have any fear at
