somehow one of my friends became a disciple at a muslim temple and we all thought it'll be fun to visit him.
when we're there there was a ceremony where the dead are being re-born, an re-inactment where the every priests would fling themselves off a mountain cliff into the rapids below, and float adrift downstream to be collected by the villagers.
We watched the long procession of priests, dressed in curved wooden shells that covered their head, body, and all limbs like a suit of crude samurai armour. They rode horses whom are also covered in these cylindrical shells of armour, and their limbs rotated about rigidly, like robots.
As I watched the procession, I thought to myself that this is a good religion. Although you sacrifice freedom of thoughts, you gain tremendous equality as everyone is equal in the face of god. I contemplated if these two are orthogonal or opposites of each other, but come to the conclusion that they must be somewhat obtuse to each other.
My friend tells me that, although he recently joined the temple, his master was an old master and was very high ranking, and as a result his ranking was quite senior, and already working on important tasks in the temple.
All of a sudden I found myself actually observing and conversing from a seat next a large drum whilst eating a bowl of some delicious ribs. It seemed fitting in retrospect, as it was snowing and very cold. Before I could fully realize what was happening, I was surrounded by many priests.
"Pig skin!" One of them voiced seriously, pointing at the cover of the drum, "Look at all the tendons and gelatins on the corner of this drum"
"This man is eating pig." another in quiet disbelief, looking inside my bowl.
I had no idea how did the drum nor the ribs had come to my possession and why on earth would I start to eat the god damned meat in a muslim temple. I turned to my friend "what should I do?"
"You need to do something, the worst is if you do nothing. I cannot tell you what will happen, the master will speak to you now."
A lean, short man approached me from the ranks. He was surprisingly not old at all, only in his mid 30s I believe. He has short cut hair and an expression of permanent melancholy. He was blinded in one eye, which looked chipped and glossy, like a frosted broken glass marble.
"Why would you do that?" He said evenly
"I honestly don't know, it just happened to happen". I replied
The priest took out a double edged hooked knife, and placed the straight back edge against his fingers.
"I need to as you questions, you better be honest" informed the priest.
"Where did you get the pork?" the question
"wait what? I don't really ..." I replied
The priest sliced unhesitantly into his fingers, the knife went and stopped, at the bones of his index.
people screamed, the flesh peeled away like skin of a crimson thrashing banana.
"Where did you get the pork?" the priest repeated in quiet earnest
"At a supermarket" I invented.
"How did they slaughter the pig?" the question
"I would not know, at the supermarket everything is already packed"
The index finger fell to the snow.
"They probably shot it in the head" I quickly amended, pointing my own index finger to my head.
"Was it in pain, does the pig choose to give you its flesh?" again in a quiet voice.
I could not quite tell if he's already cut his middle finger, the blood was tremendous.
"I doubt it was in much pain, but no, it certainly did not choose to give me its flesh. It was taken by force"
A spurt of more blood from middle finger, for sure.
"how are you not sick? did you not know a pig is a filthy animal?" the priest demanded.
"No it is safe if you cook it well. please, stop asking more questions I would be very sad if you lose all your fingers." I implored the priest, looking into his human eye.
We looked at each other for a few soundless seconds. Suddenly with a yell he leapt forward aiming the deadly hook at my face. I flung my arm between us.
I woke, and in wakefulness I thought, the priest wouldn't have really committed, and maybe I was mistrusting him to put my arm between us.
take it easy folks, and enjoy your meats.
--evan