The Box

[l0c0dantes]

EDIT: After re reading, theres a lil bit of backstory about this you shoud know. This is a part of a much larger book called the boomer bible. It talks history and how the world is fucked up and junk. harriers = pinks, greyfaces, whatever. Ultraharrier = priest of the curch of harry. The orignal text was struck out, because some parts of the book were good, so they just crossed out the bad parts, cuz no true harrier would read any more than they would have to.

Centralians, Chapter 16  -  25

Chapter 16

Can you recognize the box?
Not if you are a Harrier,
Raised by Harriers,
In the Land of Harriers.
How can anyone anywhere recognize the absence of what has been withheld
since birth?
The walls of your box are made from the gifts no one ever gave you,
What is more,
Without such gifts and glories,
You are marooned,
Forever,
In a universe of Harriers.

Chapter 17

What has been withheld?
many things.
If I could, I would weep for the things that have been withheld from you,
But like all Harriers everywhere, all I can muster is a list,
Because you already know better,
Which is your legacy,
As Harriers.

Chapter 18

It is not a long list,
And no one anywhere will agree with it,
But the word of an Ultra-Harrier is as good as anybody elses,
And so here it is:
Time,
Language,
Knowledge,
Imagination,
Belief,
And Home.

Chapter 19

Ridiculous?
Of course.
Now show me how ridiculous.

Chapter 20

speak to me of your sense of time,
You who were raised with a rapacious hunger for the new,
And a positive scorn for what is old or out of date.
Do your grandparents live with you?
Or in another city?
Or in a home somewhere?
And have you ever talked to them about what happened in the past,
Provided you know anything about what happened in the past,
And have you ever learned their slang,
Or listened to their music,
Or danced their dances,
Or tried to see your world from their point of view?
Do you read old books for pleasure,
Books written before you were born,
And before your parents were born,
Before there were movies and records and telephones?
Do you ever talk with people who *aren,Äôt* about your own age,
And I mean really talk with them,
About events,
And Ideas,
And your hopes and fears,
And the meaning of life,
And god and history and human accomplishment?
Do you feel a deep respect, or even awe, for for a single old person who has
stayed alive through it all and acquired some wisdom along the way?
Do you ever sit and wonder about the past,
And what it was really like,
Before there were cars and TVs and electricity and hospitals and jet planes and
rock and roll?
Do you ever ponder visions of the future,
And what it could be,
And what you could do to change the world,
If you dreamed and worked for it hard enough?
that,Äôs okay.
Really.
It,Äôs just that you are Harriers,
And today is one wall of your box.

Chapter 21

Speak to me of your love of language,
You who were raised to use four-letter words,
To express all your deepest emotions.
Have you ever read something out loud,
Just to savor the way that it sounds?
Have you hungered and hunted for the words that give life,
To the subtlest distinctions you feel,
And felt your conscious space expand,
because now there were more ways to feel?
Have you prowled through the jungles of syntax and grammar,
To see just how much one sentence can say?
Have you felt the power that language can give,
To the building and thinking of thoughts?
Have you ever once felt that you said it just right,
And conveyed your full thought to another?
Have you ever felt brand new words take shape in your mind,
from no other source than the spinning and spinning of words?
Have you acquired a different taste of life,
By trying another world,Äôs tongue,
And felt a new timbre enter your voice,
Echoing Rome or the steppes or the Seine?
Have you seen how language, all by itself, can alter the nature of truth,
And twist and distort,
Or distill and reflect,
The innermost essence of things?
That,Äôs okay.
Really.
It,Äôs just that you are Harriers,
And your muteness is a wall of your box.

Chapter 22

Speak to me of your love of knowledge,
You who were raised to do well on a test,
Then go on to the next on the list.
Have you felt the world as a four-dimensional puzzle,
Coming together as you add each new piece?
Have you wondered exactly which things one could know,
And arrive at understanding?
Have you ever been gripped by the compulsion to know,
The truth of some buried event,
And then followed the trail of what,Äôs supposed to be known,
Through the twisting and turning of guesses and maybe,Äôs and might have been,Äôs,
Till you know what is known,
And still hungering for more,
Because no knowledge is ever enough to be finally final,
As long as there,Äôs more to be learned?
Have you ever discovered a miracle link,
Between something you know,
And something you don,Äôt,
And the link taught you more about both?
That,Äôs okay.
Really.
It,Äôs just that you are Harriers,
And your ignorance is a wall of your box.

Chapter 23

Speak to me of Imagination,
You who were raised on color TV,
Until books went as flat and black and white,
As the paper and ink they were made of.
Have you fought back to back with Alan Breck,
Or come back from death with the Count of Calvary?
Have you seen yourself as a hero,
Defeating the odds with you courage and dash,
Until you believe that you fate is a quest,
One that will merit all that it costs,
No matter how much that might be?
Have you ever fantasized a breakthrough,
A new approach,
A frontier,
A new and fine idea,
A source of hope for all mankind,
Born from the depths of your own mind,
A gift you,Äôll give freely,
Because no one else can,
And because somebody somewhere has to?
That,Äôs okay.
Really.
It,Äôs just that you are Harriers,
And lack of imagination is a wall of your box.

Chapter 24

Speak to me of belief,
You who were raised to be smarter than fools,
And to say the things that are said.
Have you ever just know that *they* were wrong,
Because you knew your feelings were right?
Have you ever explained to your private self,
Where the world and it,Äôs mysteries came from?
Have you ever felt that deep down,
You were good and on track for a purpose,
And no matter what happened you,Äôd learn from the worst
And follow the best to its end?
Have you ever once thought, I would die for this,
And I couldn,Äôt live if I failed to stand fast,
Because that,Äôs how much it means?
That,Äôs okay.
Really.
It,Äôs just that you are Harriers,
And unbelief is the lid of your box.

Chapter 25

Speak to me of Home,
You who were raised in the City of Brotherly Love,
Where your address is a token of dollars and cents,
And the young ones grow up to get out.
Have you ever sensed your homeland in you,
When you were far away,
And felt you were born of earth,
And bound to your place of birth,
By something deeper than love,
And stronger than life itself?
Well,
That,Äôs okay.
Really.
It,Äôs just that you are Harriers,
And homelessness is the floor of your box.

[BADGE OF HONOR]

Strikethrough sure is fun to not read.

[The Good Reverend Roger]

Strikethrough sure is fun to not read.

I think I'll wait for the director's cut.

[vexaph0d]

i read it. took twice as long as it should have (i don't care if the original was struck through).  but it's worth reading anyway

[P3nT4gR4m]

I cheated - copy and paste into notepad FTW

[LMNO]

I admit it:  I'm an asshole bastard.

EDIT: After re reading, theres a lil bit of backstory about this you shoud know. This is a part of a much larger book called the boomer bible. It talks history and how the world is fucked up and junk. harriers = pinks, greyfaces, whatever. Ultraharrier = priest of the curch of harry. The orignal text was struck out, because some parts of the book were good, so they just crossed out the bad parts, cuz no true harrier would read any more than they would have to.

Centralians, Chapter 16  -  25

Chapter 16

Can you recognize the box?
Not if you are a Harrier,
Raised by Harriers,
In the Land of Harriers.
How can anyone anywhere recognize the absence of what has been withheld
since birth?
The walls of your box are made from the gifts no one ever gave you,
What is more,
Without such gifts and glories,
You are marooned,
Forever,
In a universe of Harriers.

Chapter 17

What has been withheld?
many things.
If I could, I would weep for the things that have been withheld from you,
But like all Harriers everywhere, all I can muster is a list,
Because you already know better,
Which is your legacy,
As Harriers.

Chapter 18

It is not a long list,
And no one anywhere will agree with it,
But the word of an Ultra-Harrier is as good as anybody elses,
And so here it is:
Time,
Language,
Knowledge,
Imagination,
Belief,
And Home.

Chapter 19

Ridiculous?
Of course.
Now show me how ridiculous.

Chapter 20

speak to me of your sense of time,
You who were raised with a rapacious hunger for the new,
And a positive scorn for what is old or out of date.
Do your grandparents live with you?
Or in another city?
Or in a home somewhere?
And have you ever talked to them about what happened in the past,
Provided you know anything about what happened in the past,
And have you ever learned their slang,
Or listened to their music,
Or danced their dances,
Or tried to see your world from their point of view?
Do you read old books for pleasure,
Books written before you were born,
And before your parents were born,
Before there were movies and records and telephones?
Do you ever talk with people who *aren,Äôt* about your own age,
And I mean really talk with them,
About events,
And Ideas,
And your hopes and fears,
And the meaning of life,
And god and history and human accomplishment?
Do you feel a deep respect, or even awe, for for a single old person who has
stayed alive through it all and acquired some wisdom along the way?
Do you ever sit and wonder about the past,
And what it was really like,
Before there were cars and TVs and electricity and hospitals and jet planes and
rock and roll?
Do you ever ponder visions of the future,
And what it could be,
And what you could do to change the world,
If you dreamed and worked for it hard enough?
that,Äôs okay.
Really.
It,Äôs just that you are Harriers,
And today is one wall of your box.

Chapter 21

Speak to me of your love of language,
You who were raised to use four-letter words,
To express all your deepest emotions.
Have you ever read something out loud,
Just to savor the way that it sounds?
Have you hungered and hunted for the words that give life,
To the subtlest distinctions you feel,
And felt your conscious space expand,
because now there were more ways to feel?
Have you prowled through the jungles of syntax and grammar,
To see just how much one sentence can say?
Have you felt the power that language can give,
To the building and thinking of thoughts?
Have you ever once felt that you said it just right,
And conveyed your full thought to another?
Have you ever felt brand new words take shape in your mind,
from no other source than the spinning and spinning of words?
Have you acquired a different taste of life,
By trying another world,Äôs tongue,
And felt a new timbre enter your voice,
Echoing Rome or the steppes or the Seine?
Have you seen how language, all by itself, can alter the nature of truth,
And twist and distort,
Or distill and reflect,
The innermost essence of things?
That,Äôs okay.
Really.
It,Äôs just that you are Harriers,
And your muteness is a wall of your box.

Chapter 22

Speak to me of your love of knowledge,
You who were raised to do well on a test,
Then go on to the next on the list.
Have you felt the world as a four-dimensional puzzle,
Coming together as you add each new piece?
Have you wondered exactly which things one could know,
And arrive at understanding?
Have you ever been gripped by the compulsion to know,
The truth of some buried event,
And then followed the trail of what,Äôs supposed to be known,
Through the twisting and turning of guesses and maybe,Äôs and might have been,Äôs,
Till you know what is known,
And still hungering for more,
Because no knowledge is ever enough to be finally final,
As long as there,Äôs more to be learned?
Have you ever discovered a miracle link,
Between something you know,
And something you don,Äôt,
And the link taught you more about both?
That,Äôs okay.
Really.
It,Äôs just that you are Harriers,
And your ignorance is a wall of your box.

Chapter 23

Speak to me of Imagination,
You who were raised on color TV,
Until books went as flat and black and white,
As the paper and ink they were made of.
Have you fought back to back with Alan Breck,
Or come back from death with the Count of Calvary?
Have you seen yourself as a hero,
Defeating the odds with you courage and dash,
Until you believe that you fate is a quest,
One that will merit all that it costs,
No matter how much that might be?
Have you ever fantasized a breakthrough,
A new approach,
A frontier,
A new and fine idea,
A source of hope for all mankind,
Born from the depths of your own mind,
A gift you,Äôll give freely,
Because no one else can,
And because somebody somewhere has to?
That,Äôs okay.
Really.
It,Äôs just that you are Harriers,
And lack of imagination is a wall of your box.

Chapter 24

Speak to me of belief,
You who were raised to be smarter than fools,
And to say the things that are said.
Have you ever just know that *they* were wrong,
Because you knew your feelings were right?
Have you ever explained to your private self,
Where the world and it,Äôs mysteries came from?
Have you ever felt that deep down,
You were good and on track for a purpose,
And no matter what happened you,Äôd learn from the worst
And follow the best to its end?
Have you ever once thought, I would die for this,
And I couldn,Äôt live if I failed to stand fast,
Because that,Äôs how much it means?
That,Äôs okay.
Really.
It,Äôs just that you are Harriers,
And unbelief is the lid of your box.

Chapter 25

Speak to me of Home,
You who were raised in the City of Brotherly Love,
Where your address is a token of dollars and cents,
And the young ones grow up to get out.
Have you ever sensed your homeland in you,
When you were far away,
And felt you were born of earth,
And bound to your place of birth,
By something deeper than love,
And stronger than life itself?
Well,
That,Äôs okay.
Really.
It,Äôs just that you are Harriers,
And homelessness is the floor of your box.

[l0c0dantes]

More stuff on teh web.

Chapter 1
A h yes.
2 The smart ones.
3 The ones who have gotten the best grades,
4 And the highest test scores,
5 The ones who have the brightest prospects for the future,
6 Because the world is your oyster.
7 Isn't that how it goes?
8 Isn't that what they've told you?
9 Of course it is.
10 So why do you need any advice from a Harrier,
11 Especially from a lowly Parish Beacon,
12 Like me?

Chapter 2
Maybe you don't need any advice from me.
2 Maybe it will all work out,
3 Somehow,
4 Although I feel you should know that I was like you,
5 Once,
6 Long before I ever heard of Harry,
7 Back when I was young and smart,
8 When the world was my oyster,
9 Which it was until the day I discovered my oyster didn't have any pearls in it,


10 Because the swine had gotten there first.

Chapter 8
Behold Paradise,
2 Which is your inheritance,
3 From Harry.

[l0c0dantes]

Chapter 9
In Paradise,
2 There will be vast territories and treasures and pleasures galore,
3 Ripe for the plucking by good Harriers everywhere,
4 And it may please at least a few of you to know that in Paradise,
5 There will still be a city called Philadelphia,
6 Which will be a shining jewel in the crown of Harry,
7 And just possibly the Capital of Paradise.
8 In Philadelphia, everything will keep on going for a long long time,
9 But its people will become used to decline and decay as a basic fact of life.
10 They will go to work every morning,
11 Just like they do now,
12 And they will get married,
13 And have families,
14 Just like they do now,
15 And they will spend their lives pretty much the same way they do now,
16 Running errands from dawn to dusk,
17 And spending long hours at work meeting deadlines for meaningless fire drills,
18 And fixing the screen door latch,
19 And arranging furtive sexual liaisons,
20 And carting their kids from one organized activity to another,
21 And getting wasted as often as they can,
22 And piling into the car once a year for a three thousand mile vacation in the station wagon,
23 A lot like they do now,
24 And truly, there won't be a lot of bliss,
25 In case you thought that's what Harry was promising,
26 Because in spite of Harry's Consolation,
27 Which will be as abundant as the air we breathe,
28 There will still be fear,
29 And dread,
30 And hatred,
31 And envy,
32 And jealousy,
33 And violence,
34 And all the other things that have always tormented people,
35 From day one.

Chapter 10
In Paradise,
2 In fact,
3 People will just be making a simple trade,
4 Exchanging one kind of fear for another.
5 They will never experience the terror of confrontation with the brute face of reality, and will therefore never feel its power to overwhelm them with the knowledge of their own einsignificance in the vast randomness of the universe,
6 But in return they will live with a constant low grade fear,
7 Which will never go away,
8 Because they will never confront this fear either,
9 And so they will never learn that this kind of fear is the constant companion of the incompetent,
10 Who are always afraid of being found out,
11 Because they know that they don't really know very much,
12 And aren't really trying very hard,
13 And have never really accepted any responsibility for making things work,
14 But only a certain extorted accountability for the things that somebody else put on their list,
15 Which is why they will run and run and run, and put in so many hours a day that it will almost seem like work,
16 Always guessing about what might be the right sounding sort of thing to say,
17 And the most plausible way of shifting the accountability to someone else,
18 Someone who can be sacrificed later,
19 If things go wrong,
20 As they almost always will,
21 In Paradise.

[l0c0dantes]

Chapter 11

In Paradise,
2 Lots and lots of things will go wrong,
3 More and more all the time,
4 But the people who are willing to make a big stink about it will become fewer and fewer,
5 All the time,
6 Because nobody will want to follow anything to its logical conclusion,
7 Anymore.
8 They will complain, of course, when the things they buy don't work,
9 And when service people are rude and late and inept,
10 and when the paperwork is never right,
11 And when they get mugged in broad daylight while everybody just stands around and watches,
12 And they will complain when the Most Chosen nation starts losing its edge,
13 And when there's nobody left to admire in the whole country,
14 And when it seems like practically everybody belongs to some fanatical little group with its own special grudge against the world,
15 And they will complain about the way Philadelphia just keeps on falling apart,
16 No matter what anyone says,
17 And no matter what anyone does,
18 and they will never for a moment dare to follow these things to their logical conclusion,
19 and relate them to the things they do,
20 Every day,
21 or see any kind of connection between the way they are getting by, one day at a time, and the way everone else is getting by, one day at a time,
22 Because when everything is slowly falling apart,
23 How could just one person possibly make any difference?
24 Because all true Harriers know that it's no use,
25 Whether they work hard or not,
26 Whether they care or not,
27 Whether they are civil or not,
28 Whether they are tolerant or not,
29 whether they discipline their children or not,
30 Whether they discipline themselves or not,
31 Whether they take any responsibility or not,

32 Becaause things are the way they are,
33 And how can it possibly be their fault?

Chapter 12
In Paradise,
2  In the shining jewel of Harry's crown where you presently reside,
3 Nothing that happens can ever be anyone's fault,
4 Even if the bridges are crumbling to rust,
5 And the ghettos are grimmer,
6 And the river is dying,
7 And the chemical sunsets are getting more and more hallucinogenic,
8 And the school system is so rotten that even its core is a slimy decomposing blob of putrefaction,
9 And the corporations are run by cold blodded bean counters who despise everyone and everything but money,
10 And the politicians are stupid thieving liars who wouldn't recognize a vision if they were blinded by one,
11 And the rich are getting richer and meaner all the time,
12 And the poor are getting poorer and meaner all the time,
13 And the ones in between are just getting meaner and meaner and meaner,
14 All the time,
15 bAnd absolutely everybody everywhere is living strictly for today,
16 This minute,
17 And the Future consists of tonight, tomorrow, and a few odd points in the months to come,
18 Because any other Vision of the Future might require some thought,
19 Which nobody will want to risk,
20 Until you come of age, of course,
21 And inherit everthing,
22 And take charge of Paradise,

23 And get to do things the way you want to.

Chapter 13
What do you expect to do then, my children?
2 Change everything?
3 Fix everything?
4 Dust off some ideals you heard about once and start cleaning house?
5 Fat chance.
6 You will do nothing of the sort,
7 Because that would require something called character,
8 And Harriers do not have character,
9 Which is important to note,
10 Because you were raised by Harriers,
11 And you will grow to be Harriers yourselves,
12 Living in the land of theHarrieres,
13 Where anyone who refuses to be a Harrier will become a target,

14 For everyone else's blame.

[l0c0dantes]

Chapter 27
But when you've worked down to this spot on the list,
2 And the kids are no longer cute,
3 You will need all you know about the harrier Way,
4 Just to keep from getting blamed,
5 For all the things no one else wants to do,
6 If they think they can hand it to you.
7 And when that day comes,
8 You won't have what it takes,
9 To fight back and show them your mettle,
10 Because it takes a lot more than vague self delusions to win against the Way of Harry.
11 You can try, of course,
12 But they'll take you out,
13 And sooner than later, if I'm any judge,
14 Because if you have any principles,
15 They'll find them,
16 And chop them up,
17 And feed them to you,
18 Till you burp to the tune they play.
19 they'll do it for sure,
20 Because you are the smart ones,
21 And they know just enough to be afraid of you,
22 Not because you are better,
23 Or stronger,
24 Or more virtuous,
25 But because you can make them look bad,
26 Which is the very worst thing you can do,

27 To a Harrier.

[l0c0dantes]

Strikethrough sure is fun to not read.

I think I'll wait for the director's cut.

Mind If I enjoy the irony of that statment?

[vexaph0d]

this thread was fun,
once,
before it was a toolbox.

[Idem]

this thread was fun,
once,
before it was a toolbox.

Tell me about it. 

[Bhode_Sativa]

The path of least resistance is always the road more traveled.

[LMNO]

I get the idea behind this, but I think the execution needs work.