The Temple (7 page)

“Ah,” he said quietly with a
contented smile. “Work is a wonderful thing when you can watch
other people doing it.”

Then the great day came. It
began before daybreak with Master Jeremiah waking everyone up. As
the rite demanded he walked from room to room crowing
“Cock-a-doodle-doo, cock-a-doodle-doo” and waking everyone up. This
heralded a new day in Sycko’s life. While the brethren were still
struggling out of their nice warm beds Jeremiah had already reached
the grand hall. “Hie thee hither, Sycko,” he shouted as loudly as
he could. “Hie thee hither ere the sun rise!”

Still sleepy Sycko made his way
to the hall as fast as he could followed by the brethren. Sycko
waited at the far end of the hall till they were all assembled.
Jeremiah, clad in a frock and wearing the sacred top hat, stood
beneath the oak wreath and waited. When everything was quiet an owl
hooted. This was the ancient sign to commence the holy ceremony.
The brethren drooled and sang the ancient song:

See in the east the sun doth
rise

A symbol of freedom and
loyalty

In the waning moon you grew
wise

Thrice blessed sign of
purity

This was the signal for Sycko.
He started drooling and walked forward in utmost dignity, with a
proud erect bearing placing one foot after another and getting his
shirt wet with a steady stream of saliva. He wended his way through
the assembled fraternity until he stood in front of Master
Jeremiah.

“We meet upon the level,” Sycko
said and bowed respectfully.

“On the level,” Jeremiah replied
and bowed in turn. Then he removed his top hat and handed it to
Sycko. “Take this holy symbol as a sign of our trust in you. Hold
it in your hands and guard it with your faith.”

Sycko took the sacred top hat
and stepped under the oak wreath to face the assembly. Master
Jeremiah went down on his knees and undid Sycko’s shoelaces. He
took off first one shoe and then the other. When he had both shoes
he stood up with them, placed them on his upturned palms and held
them near his chest. He turned to the assembly and said
“Discalceatus est!” [Latin: He is unshod, i.e. his shoes are taken
off]

While the brethren were clapping
their hands Jeremiah’s smile froze on his face as a pungent smell
wafted up from the shoes. “Don’t you wash your feet,” he asked
through clenched teeth.”

“I’ve only got one pair of
socks,” Sycko replied.

Jeremiah almost choked but had
to continue with the ceremony. He threw the shoes one at a time to
the other end of the temple and the assembly said in unison “Calcei
iacti sunt!” [The shoes have been thrown]

These holy words were the signal
for Sycko to walk through the hall until he found his shoes. He
walked slowly and with dignity but the nauseating stench from his
feet made the eyes of more than just one brother or sister water.
To the general relief he put his shoes on again. This was followed
by the song:

Brother, brother come to us,

The moon doth shine on thee,

Under our ancient holy tree.

Hark the Lord who speaks to
us.

To conclude the holy ceremony
they all got out Dryvellers Fags and lit up. With the smoke from
scores of fags rising up in the air the ceremony was officially
ended and the overjoyed brethren made their way to the dining hall
for breakfast.

They all stood around the table
behind their chairs. On his special day Sycko had the pleasure of
taking Jeremiah’s usual seat at the head of the table and said
“Good morrow, brethren”.

“Good morrow, Brother Sycko,”
came the reply in unison.

“Pray be seated,” Sycko said
with a smile.

They sat down and sang the song
that was customary for welcoming a new member into their
fraternity.

For he’s a freshly baked
bun,

For he’s a freshly baked
bun.

And so say all of us,

And so say all of us.

The Laws of the Lord

Moderation, the noblest gift of
heaven.

Euripides, Medea

Later that day Master Jeremiah
asked Sycko to join him in his study. “My dear Sycko,” he said
warmly. “It’s such a great pleasure to have you with us as a
brother in our noble and holy fraternity, indeed, I would say it’s
almost miraculous that you found to us in the lawless concrete
jungle out there, more proof, if proof was needed, that the good
Lord works miracles and that His kind and merciful eyes are always
gazing down upon us.” He paused briefly to allow the words of
profound wisdom he had spoken to sink in before continuing. “It is
now time that we look at the laws that God has given us.”

Sycko looked surprised. “There
are laws?”

“Why, yes of course, my dear
fellow brother. It’s all in The Holy Dryvel. The Lord’s ten laws,
those golden laws that enable us humans, pitiful creatures that we
are, to live together in peace and harmony. The laws that make us
into humans and set us apart from the brutish animal kingdom. They
are the laws that every Dryveller must obey, and to obey them it is
of course necessary to know and to understand them.” He peered at
Sycko for a moment as though he expected an answer but when Sycko
merely sat and looked at him with a semi-vacant stare Jeremiah went
on unperturbed. He put a copy of The Holy Dryvel on the table and
opened it. “Here it is, God’s own word, the only book that matters
in this world. Everything you need to know is in here,” he said
happily and patted the book.

“Really everything?” Sycko said.
“I wish I’d had it at school. Would have saved me lots of trouble.
You wouldn’t believe how many books they gave us there and to
imagine that one book is enough…”

“Eh, well yes, there you go. I
quite agree. Everyone at school should have a copy of The Holy
Dryvel. But let’s have a look at what the laws of God actually say.
Here is the first law:

I. The Holy Dryvel is God’s
word.

You will agree that this is most
important, my dear Sycko. After all, without it how would we know
that everything in The Holy Dryvel is absolutely true? It would be
just one more religious tome collecting dust among the other
nonsensical books that people have written over the centuries. It
is so easy to write a book and make preposterous claims about it.
But here’s where The Holy Dryvel is different. We have it in black
and white from God Himself that these are His own words.” Jeremiah
paused for a moment and smiled at Sycko. “And what words they are,
my dear Sycko, every single word worth a million times its weight
in gold!”

“Wow, that is a lot of gold,”
Sycko said. “But why does the book only cost…”

“Now, now,” Jeremiah interrupted
him. “We mustn’t take these things too literally. The important
thing to remember is that every single word in The Holy Dryvel is
true and if we have any kind of question or problem then we need
not look any further than The Holy Dryvel. Now let’s take a look at
the second law, there are ten altogether, did I mention it? Well,
anyway, here it is:

II. Obey the Lord as made
manifest through the Master of the Temple.

This is a most useful law, I
must say, and it makes things so much simpler for all of us.”

“I’m not sure I understand it,”
Sycko said.

“It’s quite simple really.
There’s nothing to it. It means that when the Lord has a message
for you He will let you know through me.”

“You mean God tells you and you
just pass it along to me?”

“Quite right. Just you listen to
what I tell you and you’ll always do the right thing. Let’s see the
next law:

III. Heed the Holy Dryvel

That’s not difficult either.
Just do as The Holy Dryvel tells you to do.”

“Because the answers to
everything are in it?”

“That’s right, very good, very
good, you’re doing well. I told you it would be easy. The next law
is also easy and also very important:

IV. Do not steal from
Dryvellers.

This is a truly divine and
wonderful law. How could we humans live together if we were allowed
to steal from one another? Yet thanks to the Lord in His wisdom we
all live in peace together.”

“But what about stealing from
people who aren’t Dryvellers? Here it says…”

“But my dear fellow, that’s a
completely different matter. If you take something from someone who
is in denial of the truth of Dryvellism you aren’t stealing. You’re
merely returning the Lord’s property back to those who honour him.
And is there anything wrong with returning lost property, Sycko, is
there?”

“Well, no, now you put it that
way. I’m beginning to understand.”

“I’m glad to hear it, my dear
boy. I knew from the moment I saw you that there was a true
Dryveller in you. But look at the next law, it’s also most
important to ensure harmony and honesty:

V. Do not lie to Dryvellers
unless you need to protect Dryvellism.

Isn’t it a most excellent law,
my dear Sycko? Just imagine! How could we live together if we were
allowed to tell lies? But again the Lord in His wisdom has
provided.”

“But I may lie if I’m protecting
Dryvellism? Wasn’t that a bit like the weeping Diana?”

“I’m glad you mention it, Sycko.
Yes, the weeping Diana does come to mind. What could be more noble
than a pious fraud if it helps people to believe! But let’s not
dwell on the past, my dear lad. The next law is one of great
importance:

VI. Honour the martyrs.

And honour them we shall! It
shall not be said that we neglected to hold those in esteem who
gave their lives for Dryvellism.”

Sycko looked a bit doubtful.
“I’m not sure about that ‘give their lives’ bit. You mean to say we
may get killed?”

Jeremiah chuckled. “We must all
die one day, my dear fellow, it’s no secret. The difference between
ordinary Dryvellers and martyrs is that martyrs are awaited by the
most wonderful recompense. They ascend straight into superparadise
beside which the paradise that awaits other Dryvellers pales in
comparison. After all, who would want to book a one star hotel for
eternity if there’s a five star hotel available, too.”

“I see,” Sycko murmured. “I
hadn’t thought of it that way.”

“There you go. In fact martyrs
can be so eager to check in to their part of paradise that they
don’t want to be kept waiting too long, but more on that another
time. Suffice it to say that in superparadise even your most
extravagant wishes and desires are like mere child’s play. Why, I
can tell you with the full authority of The Holy Dryvel that every
martyr is welcomed by 99 trillion eternal virgins who are his to do
with as he pleases in all eternity.”

“That’s quite a lot of women. I
can’t quite imagine…”

“I say it is a lot. Now are you
beginning to see how wonderful it could be to become a martyr?”

“How much is 99 trillion
actually? I mean if I, or I should say a martyr, meets one of them
every day then…?”

“Ah, I see what you mean,”
Jeremiah said and got a calculator. “Now then, 99 trillion divided
by 365 equals 271,232,876,712. Just imagine, my dear Sycko! For
more than 271 billion years a martyr has one new virgin every day.
Of course, if it so pleases a martyr he may have more than one a
day…”

“They’re all his, as you said.
But what happens after the 271 billion years? I mean does a martyr
go back to the first…?”

“Just as he wants, Sycko, just
as he wants. But then, would you still remember the first one after
271 billion years?”

“No, I suppose I wouldn’t. It’s
rather a long time. I can’t even remember what I had for dinner
last night.”

“Ah, there you are. But then as
I told you before we shouldn’t always take these things too
literally. After all, what are a few billion years when you are in
the middle of eternity? And we shouldn’t be too pettish or greedy,
even in superparadise. How much better it is to thank the Lord for
His munificence in providing so magnanimously for a true martyr.
But let’s take a look at the next law, shall we?

VII. Believe and go to heaven,
think and be cast into hell fires.

A very simple and
straightforward law I should say. Always remember the old Dryveller
proverb: Blessed are the gullible.”

“That’s easy enough then,” Sycko
said happily. “If I’d known that before I went to school I could
have saved myself years of trouble trying to think. I’m glad it’s
all over now.”

“Excellent, I’m delighted you’re
taking it that way. The next law is also very simple:

VIII. All humans are
Dryvellers.

I believe I’ve told you before
how we are all born as Dryvellers?”

“I remember! It’s how we drool
and drivel from the day of our birth, right?”

“Quite right, you’ve got a good
memory. Unfortunately there are those who would deny Dryvellism and
as such deny God. But for these hate criminals the Lord has
provided, too:

IX. Maim, torture, kill and
slaughter those who deny Dryvellism.

Always remember, Sycko, a human
who denies Dryvellism is like a faulty product. If it can’t be
mended then you send it back to the factory. The Dryvellism deniers
are just the same. They are faulty and killing them isn’t murder.
It’s not even a killing. It’s nothing more than sending a faulty
soul back to where it came from. It’s up to the Lord to do the rest
then. And last but not least is the tenth law:

X. Dryvellism is a religion of
peace. Death to those who do not believe it.

Truly, Sycko, the Lord is
merciful and it is He who has given us humans peace. Peace is a
wonderful thing and it is something our lives wouldn’t be worth
living without.”