Friday, March 20, 2020

Neil


The Return of Neal was met with great fanfare and celebration. An enormous parade through the streets of New York was held the next day. Several notable groups gave vociferous replies to the new coming of this alien from outer space—this bright light in these dark times—this creature newly resurrected from the dead.

The scientific community was astonished. Through many superfluous words and phrases, they eloquently expressed their opinion. In short, they claimed that they “didn’t understand how this could happen.” This alien had clearly been dead, and now, with a brand new spaceship (though smaller than last time), he landed in a small field just west of Philadelphia and was now clearly not dead. Incredible, they said.

The Church of Neal claimed it as their greatest day since the dawn of time. Not necessarily the greatest day since the dawn of time, but at least their greatest day. After all, they hadn’t been around for very long—just four years since Neal arrived the first time—and most of those days had been pretty crummy. But not this day. This day was great. Everyone could see that. So they established a mandatory holiday and drafted petitions to require its observation by every government of the world.

The governments of the world were not amused. They did their own thing. They slapped a helmet on the space alien immediately.

Meanwhile, the New Purists, those who completely rejected all teachings related to Neal, completely rejected the resurrection of Neal. Sure, there was an alien being paraded around like the latest hero, but clearly this was no more than an elaborate hoax. Either Neal had never died or this new Neal was a holographic projection intended to fool the masses. At least their guess was close to being correct, though in the end still very, very wrong.

The ufologists, who also did not trust the government because of the events surrounding and following Neal’s first appearance—they accused the government of receiving Neal and the truth about him only at the tables of shady back rooms—mounted an assault to kidnap Neal and question him in their own secret facilities. The truth, after all, needed to be made public through trusted hands. Their attempted kidnap failed.

Indeed, it wasn’t until the end of the parade when they had the alien sign a release waiver that they suddenly and embarrassingly realized that this wasn’t Neal the space alien at all. It was Neil the space alien. The spelling of his name on the document confirmed it. And now that they looked at Neil, it was quite clear that this wasn’t Neal at all. As one onlooker observed, this alien didn’t have a chronic dry skin problem.

All those who had been vociferous about the Return of Neal retracted their statements and replaced them with new, louder statements. These statements were less interesting.

At the end of the parade, the media whisked Neil into an enclosed chamber, already darkened for the impending interview. After the days of Neal, when they forgot to ask him for his proof concerning God’s existence, there had been a massive, worldwide poll taken to determine the top three questions they would have asked if they had gotten around to it. The questions were:

1. Does God exist?
2. How do you know this?
3. Can you show us your proof?

The media interviewed Neil and asked him these questions. Neil, not being Neal, responded in this way:

1. Yes.
2. I don’t know.
3. I don’t know.

This interview was televised worldwide. Subsequently, wars broke out all over the Earth. Josiah Swanson began work on his next bestseller, -EA- is for Intelligence, -EI- is for Stupidity. Those who circumcised themselves during Neal’s tenure fell into an even deeper depression. Neil slipped away to South America in the confusion. Now that’s irony, everyone concluded later.

Fortunately for Neil, he was wearing his government-supplied protective headgear. After he discovered his liking for jungle mushrooms, he spent several days—or so the story became in the retellings to follow—stumbling around and losing all sense of reality.

When the authorities finally located him, they proved that they had learned nothing from the days of Neal. In the ruckus of obtaining the poor alien, someone tackled him and knocked his head hard against a tree. Neil’s helmet saved his life, though his brain was quite concussed from the incident. Josiah Swanson felt vindicated. Children who enjoyed riding bikes decided not to bother going for a ride anymore—now overprotective mothers would certainly suck all the fun out of it.

Concussed Neil was even less interesting than the normal non-Neal Neil. During recovery, he expressed to a nurse to whom he had grown attached all of the trials of his previous life on his home planet. He told how he had been a drug addict, a thief, and eventually a murderer. He told how he wanted to be better, that he was well-intentioned, but always his good attempts failed. As a result, he was sent away from his planet and landed on Earth, hoping to find a largely uninhabited planet upon which he could settle down and live out the rest of his miserable life in solitude. He wept sorrowful tears when he told his story (or so the nurse later claimed when she sold out to the nearest news outlet to relate the tale). Journalists went to surround Neil. Neil confirmed the story.

Some people tried to muster sympathy for Neil. Hardly anyone succeeded and most people lost interest in a few weeks. At least until the release of the final version of Josiah Swanson’s book, Neal the Missionary, Neil the Outcast. The book sold well, but it received poor reviews because it was more about Neil than about Neal.

Most everyone just lost interest and went home at night, locked their doors, and tried not to think about how the world was mostly oversized and generally too scary. Neal had been a light, but Neil had stamped that light out. Most people couldn’t have even told you about how Neil ended up living in and becoming a productive member of a small Swiss town in the Alps.

Meanwhile, a boy in Peru who had recently been cured of cancer had a most wonderful thought about how he could make the world a better place.

Thursday, March 19, 2020

Neal


When Neal the alien from outer space first arrived on Earth, he astonished the world in his first appearance on television by announcing that yes, indeed, God exists in truth, and that he had proof. This caused quite a stir across the Earth for the ten days Neal remained with us.

Immediately, those with a fervent awareness of the Creator's name tried their hardest to find out if this scaly alien was actually a false prophet. "After all," they pointed out, "if he really knew the Creator, he would also know his name." In reply, Neal pointed out that he was merely using the common vernacular of Earth to reference a 'mighty one' and that furthermore, due to his alien language and severe accent, they had undoubtedly misinterpreted what he had said. These people noted that he had spoken English. In response, Neal said, "Exactly."

Upon being theologically satisfied, the more religious people of Earth carefully examined how they should best follow the new teachings of this stranger. In his announcement, they realized, he had used the word 'indeed' to describe God's existence. That is, in deed--and with hardly any need for faith--God could be found. So the men circumcised themselves, the women started wearing full head coverings and veils, and everyone went on their merry way. The apostle Paul churned in his grave.

The conspiracy theorists and ufologists took a somewhat different approach to Neal, though it was found to be just as loud. They pointed out to the media that this alien and supposed do-gooder looked very much like a reptilian and therefore couldn’t be trusted. Every word he spoke was a lie, and that in the real truth, it was all an intergalactic conspiracy to overtake the world from the inside. To quell their concerns, Neal explained that his scaly reptilian appearance was simply due to dry skin and besides, he was obviously acting alone. The conspiracy theorists answered by saying, "Clearly his denial of the truth is enough evidence that the truth is true, so we must admit that the great deception has finally arrived." Neal made no comments about the irony of their statements, and so the media became bored with this new angle of the story.

But just when things appeared as if they were about to calm down, the secular politicians of the world caused the biggest uproar. Regardless of any theological, philosophical or otherwise tricky statement this alien decided to make, he needed to be controlled, and so for two and a half days, World War III was fought for the rights of one nation to have sole authority to give this strange being over to the international community of scientists. Unfortunately, when the smoke and the fanatics cleared, it was discovered that no one actually knew where Neal had wandered off to during the battle.

In no time at all, he was tracked to South America, where he was visiting a small Peruvian boy who was sick with cancer. The authorities quickly ran to apprehend Neal, and they were mostly successful in doing so. However, as they grabbed him from the sick boy's bedside, Neal reached out one last time to comfort the boy. As he reached out, he lost his balance, tripped over someone's boot toe, and fell backwards, hitting his head forcefully on a cinderblock in the corner. He was killed by the impact.

Thus ended the ten-day period of Neal the space alien, which was later to be memorialized in the factual account written by Josiah Swanson, entitled, Neal, If Only We Knew Him Better, followed by the bestselling sequel, The Importance of Protective Headgear. And soon enough, things began to return to normal, with Neal's claims that God definitely exists becoming what seemed to be no more than—except for those who had been circumcised—a faint memory of a brief moment of clarity. A great candle, people said, had been held high in the darkness of the times. What beauty, what beauty! they cried.

Sadly, no one ever got around to asking him about his proof.

Monday, March 16, 2020

The Tale of King Frosch



Once upon an imagination, in a place some distance from here, and yet somehow near, past the great green field and beyond the evergrow tulips, there lived a frog named King Frosch.

King Frosch was the leader of the frogs in the pond.  Every day he would gather all the frogs together on the shore and demand that they bring him food to eat.  “I’m hungry!” he would scream, and the other frogs would rush to bring him food.  This occurred multiple times daily.

To find so much food, the frogs would scour the surrounding forest and meadow, and when those supplies ran out they would send one or two of their swiftest jumpers and head over to the human market in town.  There, they could snatch some food from the vendors when no one was looking.  It was a dangerous job, but it sufficed.

As a result of King Frosch’s tyranny, the rest of the frogs were very glad for every winter when it became time to hibernate.  They were all glad for some much needed rest from all the hard work of pleasing King Frosch.

One winter, in the middle of the night while all of the frogs were hibernating, King Frosch suddenly bellowed out, “I’m hungry!”  Nobody stirred.  They hoped it was just a bad dream. King Frosch cried out again, “I’m hungry!!!”  A couple frogs moved in their beds, and the rest of them knew then that there was no escaping King Frosch.  “Come feed me now!!” he screamed.

And so the rest of the frogs rose from their sleep to find a way to feed King Frosch.  This was no easy task, as the area was covered in snow and ice. No nearby brush would provide any sustenance.  The only things not hibernating or dormant were various sharp-eyed predators desperately searching the cold night for a good meal.

After much deliberation with the shouts of King Frosch in the background, the frogs decided to attempt the market in town, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night.

So two brave frogs made their way through the wintry dark and hopped toward the market.  The market was quite empty at this time of night, as all the people were snuggled away in their warm houses and beds.  All the market stalls were closed.  Still, the frogs managed to find a cluster of frozen grapes outside the house of the local winemaker.

They brought some of the grapes back to King Frosch, who eyed them carefully before partaking.  He had never eaten a frozen grape before.  The whole community of frogs watched nervously as King Frosch popped a grape into his mouth.  He sucked on the grape for a few moments, and then chewed and swallowed.

“How delicious!” he said.  “More!”

And so King Frosch ate all the frozen grapes that the frogs had brought him.  For the time being, he was satisfied and went back to sleep.  The rest of the frogs, much relieved, went to find their own beds.  However, their relief only lasted for one day.  The next night, King Frosch woke again and demanded more food.  Wearily, the two frogs from the night before journeyed to obtain more frozen grapes.

Trudging through the snow on the way back, one of the frogs got the idea to try one of the frozen grapes to see if it was any good, seeing as how King Frosch had quite enjoyed the grapes.  The frog very much enjoyed the frozen grape as well.

“You know,” said the frog, “we could make some good money selling these grapes.”

“You’re right!” said the other frog.  “We could sell them at the market for a good profit, and then we could buy as much food as we need to satisfy King Frosch.  Neither he nor us would ever be hungry again!”

Happy with their immense discovery and business plan, the frogs returned to King Frosch.  They first gave him the grapes, and then they told him their idea.  King Frosch liked both.

So when spring arrived, King Frosch set his frogs to work developing a flash freeze machine and locating a sustainable supply of grapes.  They soon accomplished both of these things and took their product to market.  The product was initially met with varied success, but it nonetheless created enough revenue to provide the frogs with an abundant food supply.

Things really took off when a young entrepreneurial investor from New Jersey visited the small town market and discovered frozen grapes.  He thought to himself, “What if I froze grape juice around a small wooden stick?”

And that, boys and girls, is how we came to have grape-flavored popsicles.

The end.

Also, the frogs lived happily ever after under the tyranny of King Frosch.