Each Word a Magical Miracle in Itself

The Great Being, Part 12
Volume 4, Issue 39

This continues our occasional serial of the story of The Great Being (TGB), that subjective awareness that is our self, and is originally the One Self of everything. See earlier installments of The Great Being here.

words have power.The idea of words continued to be challenging to the tribe. True, the names of the tribespeople had stuck, and changed behavior. The people were more alert to each other’s vocalizations now, in awe that they might actually mean something, and might have the power to cause events. They were trying to make connections without knowing that was what they were doing.

Curiosity is up by an order of magnitude, Melchizedek observed to Layla.

Something is still stopping them from making up their own names for things, she riposted.

They don’t really grok what abstraction is, or symbolic representation, it’s just a new noise to them that happens to be attached to a person, he mentated to her.

Yes, and most of them are now just called HAH or HAR, woman and man, she replied. 

You’ve named almost half of them individually already, he reminded her encouragingly.

He was trying to boost her spirits. He’d recognized that they were both being uncharacteristically moody since half the time they found themselves hypnotized into forgetting their Melchizedek and Layla selves and relapsing into being just babies in all respects, including pooping at inconvenient moments. This was demoralizing.

“OWWW!” Melchizedek yelled out loud. TYG had just hit him in the head with a small but hard rock that TYG was still holding. Melchi then responded, pointing at the rock and yelling “ROK NO!” He repeated it louder as MAH and DAH rushed over. Melchi pointed to his injured head and told the story in pointing sign language then went back to his mantra “ROK NO!”

DAH seemed to get it, extracted the rock from TYG’s fingers and stared at it as if he had never seen a rock before. “ROK NO,” DAH said to himself in wonderment. He held it tightly and would not share it.

He already knew the object as a weapon but now he had a word for the idea of a weapon. “ROK NO,” he intoned, looking inward. His face gradually morphed from simpleminded, to understanding for a brief instant, to forgetting but awestruck at the lost memory of what he had briefly glimpsed.

In the past, he had seen the power of weapons over the hunted animal and had taken it for granted without thinking about it. In the past, he had seen tribesmen face off with their hunting tools knowing they could hurt or kill each other, once when one man tried to take another man’s woman. Nothing had come of it at the time; they lowered their hunting tools and backed off.

Now the words “ROK NO” somehow took those separate memories and brought them together like two sets of crosshairs in a focusing gunsight. From this connection he had a flash of future possibilities of tribes fighting tribes but the experience was so fleeting and out of the ordinary that he lost it immediately except as a feeling.

“ROK NO,” DAH said softly, with respect and dread.


My best to all you TGBs,


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