For Dan, it started out as a normal day, much like all his other work days. The commute into work, the job, and looking forward to home. Dan was a normal everyday American, with a normal everyday life. But Dan had a secret; he was a knife knut. He loved his knives, and collected and carried a great many. They came and went, and he even belonged to a knife forum. But even then, there was a further level to Dan, he was a member of a cult. The Cult. Dan carried a peanut.
He liked all kinds of knives, but the peanut was one of his 'work place' knives. Small and discrete, it cut what needed to be cut. He was a cult member of the rank and file. Then one day things changed. Dan became an owner of a damascus peanut. The peanut of peanuts. But little did Dan realize just what that would come to mean.
He left work that evening a little later than usual. Winter dusk was already starting to fade the day, and Dan walked to his truck. As he turned the corner, he ran into two very strange characters, but characters that he was familiar with. A very large fat man in a rumbled white linen suit and a bright red Fez on his head was standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Next to him was small man, almost a midget in a black tuxedo. Dan knew them from when he was initiated into The Cult. At the curb was a yellow 1965 Checker automobile in the guise of a NYC taxi.
"Hello Dan my boy. How've you been?" asked the smiling man in the white suit and Fez. "We've come to give you a lift."
Dan was a bit puzzled.
"Lift where? I don't have plans right now, and I don't think it's a meeting night of The Cult." said Dan.
"Oh, but it's a very special meeting m'lad. And you have to be there, orders from the Grand High Muckba himself."
This shocked Dan, and he wondered why the Grand High Muckba would order his presence on a night when there was no meeting. The Fez man was insistent, so they got in and the small man in the black tux drove them off into the night. The ride was less than comforting, as the almost midget could barely see over the steering wheel of the huge Checker, and he drove at a reckless speed through the city traffic. Angry honking of horns sounded in their wake, but the crazed midget drove on. They arrived at their destination, one that Dan recognized as a secret meeting spot of The Cult. Out of the NYC Checker taxi and down a stairway to a basement door. The fat man in the Fez had the key, and they proceeded down a stone floored passageway that dated back to the beginnings of the city. Then they where at the familiar meeting chamber, with it's rough stone floor and flickering candle lamps on the walls that cast a yellow light.
A small crown of cult members were there, dressed in their black robes, and Dan realized that there were far fewer cult members present than normal, and felt a bit uneasy. Then the small crowd parted, and the Grand High Muckba himself came forward, greeting Dan warmly. His beard seemed snow white against the black of the robes, and Dan thought that he seemed more aged than before. He walked with a crooked hornbeam cane, and seemed smaller than before.
"Welcome, bother Dan. I'm very glad you could make on short notice." The old Grand Muckba said. "There is an important change in the wind tonight."
"What change is that?" asked a now curious Dan.
"Why, the moving up to the inner sanctum of the Cult." the white bearded Grand High Muckba told him. "You now are a damascus peanut owner."
"But I've just been gifted this peanut yesterday. How could you you know so fast." asked a stunned Dan.
The old man waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.
"We're The Cult, we know everything."
"Okay" Dan said, "But I was gifted the damascus peanut. It's not like I sought it out and bought one. I'm not sure I'm worthy for the inner sanctum."
"Let us worry about that. Sometimes the man does not get to choose the knife, but the knife will choose the man. A damascus peanut is a special knife, and it may go down through several owners before it finds one that it bonds with. I myself was gifted my damascus peanut by a forum member, after having the old yellow peanut that I gave away. But when I took possession of the damascus 'nut, I knew that it was the one. So, now it's time for you to move up in the Cult."
The old man gestured for Dan to follow him, and a curtain was pulled aside that reveled a narrow passageway also built of stone. They walked a short way down the stone corridor illuminated by the flickering yellow lamps, and came to a sturdy wooden beam door. The old Muckba took out a key on a silver chain from around his neck, and unlocked the door, and motioned Dan to follow him. Inside, Dan gasped at what he saw.
Gleaming white marble floor and rich chairs of leather and dark wood, and against the far wall was a floor to ceiling shelf like in the other room, with many small cubby holes for shot glasses. But these shot glasses were not of silver, but of damascus steel. The old man pointed to one, and told Dan to pick it up. Dan went to the wall, and picked out the one that the old Muckba had indicated. To his surprise, his name was engraved on the glass, but further to amaze him was, the shot glass was the same pattern damascus as his new peanut. He turned to the Grand HIgh Muckba.
"How could you know?" he asked, "I only just got the peanut"
Again, the old man just waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.
"We're The Cult, we know everything. You see, it was all arranged. We have to be careful about picking the next generation of leaders for The Cult. I'm not getting any younger you know!" the old man said. "And nothing really happens by chance. Fate, karma, call it what you will, but it works it's own way, and we sometimes are just along for the ride. But we old ones have to make things ready for those who come after us. That's the way it's always been. A parent tries to make things ready for his children, countries leaders are supposed to get things ready for the next generation. We, here of the Cult, try to get the next generation ready. Our time here is finite, and it's sometimes short for what we hope to do. So we just try to do the best with what we have. Now The Cult has to pick new members to learn the ways of the inner sanctum, to get ready in case they have to take over. To learn the lessons the peanut can teach you."
Dan nodded, now knowing what he had to do. It was time to step up and take more active role in The Cult. The old man was watching him closely.
"It's all a metaphor, isn't it?" Dan asked, and the old man nodded.
"Yes, for those who learn to apply it to life. The little peanut is a metaphor for doing the best you can, with what you have. Some of us are very smart, but some of us are less smart, and have to try harder and think more carefully. Just like the peanut may seem too small for most people, it's a lesson in doing your best, like Teddy Roosevelt said: "Do the best with what you have, where you are." or like the Marine Recon, who say to "Adapt and overcome." You use the peanut by thinking on how best to do the job. You may not always have the biggest and best, but you have to do what you have to do. Some of us may not be rich, but we still have a family to raise, so we learn to think carefully, and make the most of what we have."
Another member of the inner sanctum was pouring drinks into the damascus shot glasses. Dan picked up his glass as all the others did, and they toasted the new member of the inner sanctum. Dan tossed down the drink, and brandy went down with a warm glow, then exploded in a puddle of warmth in his stomach.
"What the heck was that?" Dan asked.
The old Grand High Muckba picked up the bottle and showed the label to Dan.
"This is a very fine brandy that was laid down about the time that Case came out with the peanut almost a century ago." said the old man. "Would you like another?"
With no further comment, Dan held out his damascus shot glass that was the same pattern as his knife blade.
He liked all kinds of knives, but the peanut was one of his 'work place' knives. Small and discrete, it cut what needed to be cut. He was a cult member of the rank and file. Then one day things changed. Dan became an owner of a damascus peanut. The peanut of peanuts. But little did Dan realize just what that would come to mean.
He left work that evening a little later than usual. Winter dusk was already starting to fade the day, and Dan walked to his truck. As he turned the corner, he ran into two very strange characters, but characters that he was familiar with. A very large fat man in a rumbled white linen suit and a bright red Fez on his head was standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Next to him was small man, almost a midget in a black tuxedo. Dan knew them from when he was initiated into The Cult. At the curb was a yellow 1965 Checker automobile in the guise of a NYC taxi.
"Hello Dan my boy. How've you been?" asked the smiling man in the white suit and Fez. "We've come to give you a lift."
Dan was a bit puzzled.
"Lift where? I don't have plans right now, and I don't think it's a meeting night of The Cult." said Dan.
"Oh, but it's a very special meeting m'lad. And you have to be there, orders from the Grand High Muckba himself."
This shocked Dan, and he wondered why the Grand High Muckba would order his presence on a night when there was no meeting. The Fez man was insistent, so they got in and the small man in the black tux drove them off into the night. The ride was less than comforting, as the almost midget could barely see over the steering wheel of the huge Checker, and he drove at a reckless speed through the city traffic. Angry honking of horns sounded in their wake, but the crazed midget drove on. They arrived at their destination, one that Dan recognized as a secret meeting spot of The Cult. Out of the NYC Checker taxi and down a stairway to a basement door. The fat man in the Fez had the key, and they proceeded down a stone floored passageway that dated back to the beginnings of the city. Then they where at the familiar meeting chamber, with it's rough stone floor and flickering candle lamps on the walls that cast a yellow light.
A small crown of cult members were there, dressed in their black robes, and Dan realized that there were far fewer cult members present than normal, and felt a bit uneasy. Then the small crowd parted, and the Grand High Muckba himself came forward, greeting Dan warmly. His beard seemed snow white against the black of the robes, and Dan thought that he seemed more aged than before. He walked with a crooked hornbeam cane, and seemed smaller than before.
"Welcome, bother Dan. I'm very glad you could make on short notice." The old Grand Muckba said. "There is an important change in the wind tonight."
"What change is that?" asked a now curious Dan.
"Why, the moving up to the inner sanctum of the Cult." the white bearded Grand High Muckba told him. "You now are a damascus peanut owner."
"But I've just been gifted this peanut yesterday. How could you you know so fast." asked a stunned Dan.
The old man waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.
"We're The Cult, we know everything."
"Okay" Dan said, "But I was gifted the damascus peanut. It's not like I sought it out and bought one. I'm not sure I'm worthy for the inner sanctum."
"Let us worry about that. Sometimes the man does not get to choose the knife, but the knife will choose the man. A damascus peanut is a special knife, and it may go down through several owners before it finds one that it bonds with. I myself was gifted my damascus peanut by a forum member, after having the old yellow peanut that I gave away. But when I took possession of the damascus 'nut, I knew that it was the one. So, now it's time for you to move up in the Cult."
The old man gestured for Dan to follow him, and a curtain was pulled aside that reveled a narrow passageway also built of stone. They walked a short way down the stone corridor illuminated by the flickering yellow lamps, and came to a sturdy wooden beam door. The old Muckba took out a key on a silver chain from around his neck, and unlocked the door, and motioned Dan to follow him. Inside, Dan gasped at what he saw.
Gleaming white marble floor and rich chairs of leather and dark wood, and against the far wall was a floor to ceiling shelf like in the other room, with many small cubby holes for shot glasses. But these shot glasses were not of silver, but of damascus steel. The old man pointed to one, and told Dan to pick it up. Dan went to the wall, and picked out the one that the old Muckba had indicated. To his surprise, his name was engraved on the glass, but further to amaze him was, the shot glass was the same pattern damascus as his new peanut. He turned to the Grand HIgh Muckba.
"How could you know?" he asked, "I only just got the peanut"
Again, the old man just waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.
"We're The Cult, we know everything. You see, it was all arranged. We have to be careful about picking the next generation of leaders for The Cult. I'm not getting any younger you know!" the old man said. "And nothing really happens by chance. Fate, karma, call it what you will, but it works it's own way, and we sometimes are just along for the ride. But we old ones have to make things ready for those who come after us. That's the way it's always been. A parent tries to make things ready for his children, countries leaders are supposed to get things ready for the next generation. We, here of the Cult, try to get the next generation ready. Our time here is finite, and it's sometimes short for what we hope to do. So we just try to do the best with what we have. Now The Cult has to pick new members to learn the ways of the inner sanctum, to get ready in case they have to take over. To learn the lessons the peanut can teach you."
Dan nodded, now knowing what he had to do. It was time to step up and take more active role in The Cult. The old man was watching him closely.
"It's all a metaphor, isn't it?" Dan asked, and the old man nodded.
"Yes, for those who learn to apply it to life. The little peanut is a metaphor for doing the best you can, with what you have. Some of us are very smart, but some of us are less smart, and have to try harder and think more carefully. Just like the peanut may seem too small for most people, it's a lesson in doing your best, like Teddy Roosevelt said: "Do the best with what you have, where you are." or like the Marine Recon, who say to "Adapt and overcome." You use the peanut by thinking on how best to do the job. You may not always have the biggest and best, but you have to do what you have to do. Some of us may not be rich, but we still have a family to raise, so we learn to think carefully, and make the most of what we have."
Another member of the inner sanctum was pouring drinks into the damascus shot glasses. Dan picked up his glass as all the others did, and they toasted the new member of the inner sanctum. Dan tossed down the drink, and brandy went down with a warm glow, then exploded in a puddle of warmth in his stomach.
"What the heck was that?" Dan asked.
The old Grand High Muckba picked up the bottle and showed the label to Dan.
"This is a very fine brandy that was laid down about the time that Case came out with the peanut almost a century ago." said the old man. "Would you like another?"
With no further comment, Dan held out his damascus shot glass that was the same pattern as his knife blade.
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! Too many better,neater...(ahhh,ran out of adjitives)knives...than the peanut.Your new title should be "the pied piper"the way you beguile these poor easily influenced guys to your obsesive cult!!
