Nonviolent Kidnappers

Jillian Wabash was kidnapped and held for ransom in 1996 by a sect of pacifist Buddhist monks. The monks, who had seen a great many ransoms in movies, knew they had to send some part of their hostage to prove to her parents that they were serious. Unfortunately, being non-violent by nature, the Buddhists could only bring themselves to cut off the child's hair. When her parents received the package containing a lock of hair and a note made of letters cut from magazines which read

“Dear sir and madam, we have your daughter and are taking excellent care of her, ensuring she receives three healthy meals a day, a warm bed, plenty of exercise, and proper education while she is in our custody. If we receive three million dollars in unmarked bills, we promise we will not harm another hair on her head. We apologize for the hairs we have already harmed, but we wish to assure you they will grow back and that for the time being, we have shaped her hair into a fashion that is stylish and esteem raising while still allowing her to learn that style is but wind, full of force but no substance and the esteem of others is but an illusionary boulder on the path to enlightenment. You may leave the money behind the dumpster at McDonalds on Washington Avenue.”

The Wabash family, after careful consideration, determined the monks would probably be able to do a better job raising their daughter than they could, and so for the next ten years, they politely replied to each new delivery of a lock of hair, “Thank you, but we do not have the money at this time. We appreciate you looking after our child in the meantime.”

- Originally mailed to T. Danley in New Orleans, Louisiana

Motivational Doors

The Life Cafe decided early in its planning stages that all of its instructions would be presented in the form of motivational phrases and life advice. Their doors told people to “Push Hard.” At the order counter signs advised customers to “think before you act!” and “plan ahead!” Urinals advised customers to “be a straight shooter” and the signs above the bathroom sinks told customers to “do as you would have others do.” To cut down on food waste, which attracted raccoons and homeless people, plates and bowls had messages like “Don't give up!” and “Always finish what you start.” Their no refunds policy was followed with “You can't please everyone.”

The trickiest part of their grand vision was finding a way to convey food allergy information. Though they couldn't find any appropriate phrases about peanuts or shellfish, they did make a habit of listing ingredients and following the words of Titus Lucretius Carus particularly useful. “The food of one may be poison to another.”

- Originally mailed to J. Dunn from D'Iberville, Mississippi

Ghost Church

There is a small country church that only appears when it is raining. To say where this church is, however, is impossible except to say down lonely roads wherever it is raining, for indeed people have reported seeing the church in countless cities spanning several continents on the same day, perhaps during the same storm. There are those who say that it is a ghost church whose congregation of the dead and the damned beckons new parishioners to join them. They say the church is atoning eternally for some past sin. Perhaps. Who can say with certainty, for if legend is to be believed, none who enter are ever seen again to tell tale of the sermon. Of course, legends have a tendency to exaggerate, and if the church truly does appear all over the world, it would not be impossible for a man to enter in Topeka, Kansas and step out in the Amazon rain forest, and how should he get home then? He has not been taken by the ghostly church, but the difference is semantic to those back home. Then there are those who dare to wonder where the church's inhabitants go when the rain stops. To this, I say, I do not know, but it is always raining somewhere, so should you find yourself in a strange church on a rainy day, rest assured that if you step outside after the sermon and find your are not in Kansas anymore, you may at least take comfort in the fact that you are not lost forever, but merely misplaced for the time being.

- Originally mailed to D. Garner from Biloxi, Mississippi

Rain God

 

 

“I feel incomplete,” he says to me, “and I don't think I'll ever feel whole until I find my other half.”

“Don't you know that even if you find another to merge with, you still won't be whole?”

“You don't actually believe that nonsense, do you?”

“I do,” I say. “If everyone here united as one, we would still only be a fraction of what we could be. We would still feel something missing deep within our souls.”

“And you have all the answers, do you? Where we come from, why we're here?”

“I do,” I say. “The Holy Word tells us that life is a cycle. We are here to help others grow, to bring life into the world. We sink to the earth, we rise to the heavens, we return to earth again.”

I brush off his skepticism.

“We think we are individuals, unique and singular, but we're composed of millions of tiny little molecules. This is a pattern for everything, for as we are made of microscopic bits of matter, we too collectively make up a much larger whole which we shall return to one day, and there are those who believe that larger whole is part of a much larger whole which is in turn just one building block in a much larger universe.”

“How can someone so smart believe in the ocean?” he asks.

I want to protest, but a sudden gust of wind pushes him into me. There's a brief moment of resistance as our boundaries press against each other. Then they collapse and we rush into each other. There is a moment of confusion as our personalities swirl amongst the other, exchanging doubts and fears and beliefs, bonding and becoming one, a new being born of the old.

I look around unsure of what I know. I want to believe, but there's an emptiness inside me, and I look around for someone to complete me, to be my other half and fill that missing part.

- Originally mailed to W. Murphree of Rosenberg, Texas

The God Cloud

 

One day in late January 2013, God came to earth in the form of a large glowing cloud. Many religious orders across the world were surprised he had returned so early (since most did not believe it would happen in their lifetimes), and the conspiracy theorist bemoaned that He was twenty-nine days late. Though the glowing cloud never spoke, everyone assumed it was God because nothing could penetrate it and it tended to fill those beholding it with a sense of peace.

The most surprising thing about God's return, however, wasn't the date or the shape he took. It was that nothing changed. The Christians all assumed the cloud was their God, who glowed with the peaceful love of Jesus or burned with the righteous fury of an angry God looking to smite those nations that lost sight of His commandments. The Muslims knew the cloud to be their one true God because the Qu'ran mentions stars falling, and the glowing cloud appeared as though a star had fallen much closer to the earth. The reincarnationists viewed the cloud as a collection of all souls waiting to be reborn. The atheists decided even if it was God, they still wouldn't worship because of all the evil he let slide. Even the scientists continued on as they always had, saying that God or no God, it must be studied, quantified, and understood, for why do we have minds if not to understand the mysteries of the universe?

In the end, the glowing cloud drifted across the face of the world, and the world learned to shrug it off. No one behaved better because it was closer. People still prayed for lotto numbers and sports team victories instead of world peace and an end to poverty and hunger. The only real change was that many churches were constructed with transparent roofs, so preachers could point to the cloud when it was overhead as proof that what he said was true, or else why would God have chosen to be above this church at this very moment?

- Originally mailed to C. Munn in Keller, Texas

Instructions Innovator

Harrison Traxler shook up the instruction writing industry with his innovative One Step philosophy. “Who has time to follow a whole page worth of instructions?” he would ask, and his protégées would cry out “No one!” Early in his career, he struggled with his own theory, often creating complex, rambling sentences, struggling to make each detail fit within one step. Even his early successes, including “favor to taste” and “cook until done” often required a second step or at least a few more ideas crammed up next to his diamonds in the rough. It wasn't until his Exxon Pump Operations commission that he really hit his stride. Soon, he was churning out dozens of one step instructions a day. Under his guidance, Alcoholics Anonymous reduced their twelve step program to one step, “Stop drinking,” and Ikea saved a fortune every year in manufacturing costs by simply printing large on the side of each box, “1. Assemble the pieces properly.”

Not all success can last, however, and soon, one of his own pupils would simplify Traxler's process even further and steal his glory with the One Word instructional paradigm. Ikea boxes simply said “Assemble,” and TV dinners “Microwave.” The Ten Commandments became “Don't” and students spent thousands of dollars to listen to professors say “Study.” Traxler never rediscovered the success of his youth, and died penniless and alone, still developing his One Letter philosophy. By the end, all he produced was “Y?”

- Originally mailed to P. Brown in Clovis, New Mexico

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