BRANDOLAND: Talking to God...For You!

Thursday, May 29, 2003

THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD, PART II – The King sets the record

“Because. I’m the king.”

Rumbles and mumbles and rumbles and mumbles and rumbles and mumbles.

“The what?”

“The king.”

“One more time, Bob.”

“Not Bob. King Bob. Your king. The boss. The chairman of the board. The HNIC. Your leader.”


“From now on, I make the decisions around here. Who does what, who does who, who goes where –“

“Hold on. We all make decisions. Together. We are a family.”

“Not me. I’m not family. I’m the king.”

“We make decisions together. That’s…how it is.”

“You people can barely tie your shoes.”

“Everyone helps out. Everyone is smiling.”

“Come on. Look at you. You’re a peasant.”

“I’m a what?”

“A peasant. A nothing. A mud person.”


“You’re all peasants.”

“We are happy people.”

“You think you are. But you’re not. That’s why you need me.”

“We ‘need’ you to be the king?”

“To tell you what to do. To keep you in line. Right? To make the laws.”


“Rules. Guidelines. You can do this; you can’t do that.”

“We do not say those kinds of things to each other.”

“That’s why you people are such a mess.”

“But. Okay. Tell me a…law.”

“You can’t murder someone.”

“Murder? What is murder?”

“You’re not allowed to stick the sacred spear in someone’s chest.”

Confusion and rumbling.

“Why would I want to do that?”

“If you get mad at someone, you might stick the sacred spear in their chest.”

“If I…mad? Explain mad?”

“If one of the Larrys takes a chicken from your hut without asking you first, you might feel bad things for him. Like a stomachache in your head. You might get mad at Larry, and then you might stick the sacred spear in his chest.”

“But…Larry can take the chicken from my hut if he wants to.”

“No he can’t. It’s against the law.”

“He is my brother. We are all brothers. If he wants a chicken, he can take the chicken without asking.”

“You know what, I’m really sick of that hippie shit. ‘We’re all brothers.’ Bullshit. Do we come from the same family?”

“Not the same mother, but we are all brothers.”

“Did my birth mother give birth to you?”


“Then fuck you. What’s mine is mine and mine only. An especially important idea given the fact that I am king.”

“So under this new…law…what happens if I stick the scared spear in Larry’s chest.”

“You go to jail.”

“What is jail?”

“A place where I put peasants like you.”

“A place? Like my hut.”

“Yes, but with no windows, no food and no place to sleep.”

“That sounds like a that I do not want to be.”

“It’s supposed to be.”

Rumbles and mumbles.

“Oh. (Pause) do you have more laws.”

“You better fucking believe it. I got lotsa laws. From now on, if you want to hunt the scared beasts, you gotta ask me first. If you want to build a hut, sell bread, dance in the street…you gotta ask for my permission.”

“I…we…we do those things everyday.”

“Right. But now…you gotta ask for my permission before you do them.”

“I have to ask you if I can do the things that our fathers and mothers and their fathers and mothers were doing before we were born?”

“You got that right.”


“Because I’m the king, that’s why. And I might not want you doing those things.”

“We do those things everyday.”

“And it drives me crazy. From now on, if you want to do things, you have to ask me. And you have to pay me.”

“Pay you?”

“Yes. You have to pay me a tax.”


“A fee to do something. Remember the coins?”


“Well, if you want to hunt on my land, you have to ask for my permission and you have to give me a coin.”

“But, that land belongs to us.”

“The land belongs to me.”

“Because you are the king?”

“You are catching on.”

“And if I don’t ask for permission or pay you this…tax?”

“I throw you in jail.”

“Wow. I must say, I do not…like these…laws that you are talking about. There are so many of them, they are confusing, and they sound…bad.”

“Tough shit. I’m the king.”

“Why can’t I be king? If I was the king, I wouldn’t make so many…laws.”

“You can’t be ‘coz I already am. And there can be only one. One king, and that is me.”

“Only one king?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, how did you get to be king?”

“I was born the king.”

“Says who?”




“Uh oh.”


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