The old wizard has risen

It started out quite complex, as simple things can do. The old wizard rose from the grave like a shaman in reverse. A rainmaker, who merely said, ‘I hold great rains, therefore rain will come to you, too,’ while not actually promising anything. He pointed out the enemy, a little groggily and yet in no uncertain terms, and he said, ‘Rain will come, and they will carry it to us!’ And those that were dying of thirst could not resist the words of the wizard, because to resist would be equal to choosing the promise of nothing new and forget about the circus.

Detractors pointed at his buffoonery, and they decried his formulas as gibberish. ‘Lies!’ they cried, ‘impossible lies!’ Their words rang true, but they held no attraction. To the faithful, his formulas were magic, albeit of a kind they couldn’t understand; but they knew that it was magic nonetheless.

All around the world, kings come from a long line of the most attractive magicians and the cruellest despots. Once segregated from the community and entrusted with the discharge of duties on which the public safety and welfare are believed to depend, they rose to wealth and power, until their leaders blossomed out into sacred kings. The old institutions and time-honoured practices welcome in these kings, who are subsequently thought to be wise by virtue of their office. The office lends legitimacy to what would otherwise be merely unproven magic spells. But the great welcoming which begins with democracy invariably ends in tyranny, until only blood can wash away the violence that blossoms in the shadow of the big man.

The shaman in reverse will not raise the dead, he will bury the living. However, no tyrant can be worse than what his henchmen will allow. So I say, watch the henchmen and do not think they are merely friends gone astray. The henchmen will suffer like the rest, but first they will make all of us bleed.

So heed these words. At all times, keep your eyes on the fields and see if there is rain or drought. If there is rain, just as the magician had foretold, well then, who are we to judge? But if there is a dead man on the ground and a foul stench in the air, then turn your back on this world and head for a place where your spirit may roam free.