Wednesday, 13 November 2013

Out-and-Out Liars, Part 2; Swen Gnillor, Swen Gnikaerb and Other Monsters, Chapter 2, Part 3



The Breatharians, founded in the 1980s by Wiley Brooks, (an Ethiopian imigrant whose guilt-ridden gratitude at finding himself in the giant candy store that is America spawned this scorched-earth religion), held and still holds the belief that  in order to leave the gaudy superficiality of a 3D world and ascend to the Elysuim Fields, if somewhat parched, of an existence in 5D,  forgoing all food and water was not only  prerequisite for entrance into this paradise  but strict adherence to a life lived on fresh air and fresh air alone, an absolute. What they saved in toilet paper they gained in sanctimoniousness.

Evian Star was formed at the precise moment when the leader of the Breatharians began preaching, in a moment of cold-turkey-induced recklessness, the idea  that  McDonalds, namely, diet Coke and double quarter-pounder, with cheese was  now vibrating on the right frequency, 5D that is, and offered only  vital portal into that world. Faced with his leader’s sudden and craven volt-face Evian Star (real name James Sheen) would have vomited on the spot had there been anything in his stomach. Instead, gripped by a series of dry heaves, he lead his gastric band of brothers away  from the convoy of Breatharians heading for the distant great yellow arches on the horizon.

Teething problems presented themselves to the Western world-wide billionaire members of Evian Star at the outset ( 5D Workshops were charged $1 billion; a $100.000 deposit wired a month in advance) ; the same problem that plagued those who had lived on breath now visited those who lived on incremental sips of  H2o; When  Evian Star members  Australian-born Verity Linn,  Timo Degen and Munich pre-school teacher and Melbourne resident Lani Marcia Rosylne Morris all died in isolation (RIP)  while on the Evianarian liquid light ‘diet’ (a bargain at a cool $10.000 a bottle,) on Facebook, its charismatic leader denied all involvement in the three deaths, his evasive rhetorical post read;

Death has a psycho-spiritual, rather than physiological, source. Discuss!

When challenged further about a Swiss woman whose physical body succumbed to a lengthy regime of pure light after reading his blog ‘Love and Fresh-Air, Evian Star shut the door on all possible reproach to his leadership, declaring.
  
I cannot be held responsible for the actions of my followers. Those who died were not coming from a place of integrity and did not have the right motivation.

The Annual Evian Spring Gathering in Haute Savoie, France found a rag-tag army of Evianarians camped out on the former grounds of a Monsieur Cachet close to Sainte Catherine, the source of the great spring itself; A grade 1 listed  site, Le Societe Anonyme des eaux minerals De Cachet did not appreciate the appearance of the improvised Evian sweat-lodge, the phallic Evian Ice sculptures or the huge marquee housing a restaurant with Scratch-and- Sniff menus, upon its manicured lawns.

One night and toward the end of the ten-day Gathering a mild storm blew away some members along with tents; flattened biscuit and chocolate wrappers were found on the edges of  bleached oblongs of grass. Evian Star who had arrived three days into the festival cloaked in non-fee-paying nubile disciples, was horrified at this clear evidence of snacking. Not only were those guilty made examples of and cordoned off in another part of a field but the whole collective was made to follow a dietary regime more rigorous than the one they were already on. Evian Star also declared he was going on a long pilgrimage, alone, to purge the sins of his flock.

Evian Star also felt the compulsive, nay stomach-cramping urge to visit another fanciful sovereign, a pig-farmer, and self-styled emperor, a white Rastafarian by the name of Napoleon or Nappy for short. Nappy greeted Evain Star like a kindred Lord into his shabby bog-like realm and with the use of scraps of paper and felt-tip pens a manic joust of brinkmanship began as each drew maps colouring in territories conquered, one with a porcine empire, the other with territories flooded with Spring Water.

In the background, out beyond the pens the aroma of roasting pig was wending its way towards the nasal follicles of the two kings. The game of One-Upmanship had run out of steam with victory heavily weighted on the side of Evian Star due to his record-breaking feat of abstinence from all solids.  It was at this moment, the victor bathing in the afterglow of smugness that the host asked the guest whether he and his community could have the honour of tasting his honourable guest's famous Evian Soup.

From a large wide carpet-bag on the floor Evian Star produced an equally large black cooking pot or cauldron, of the kind self-styled wizards like to carry. From his seamlessly bottomless bag he also produced five giant bottles of water, the principal and sole ingredient of this benign and notorious dish. The pot filled, Evian indicated he was happy to assist from a seated position and Nappy donned an apron with repeated patterns of Miss Piggy.

“I am grateful for the opportunity to reward your fine hospitality and for the opportunity to lead your lost community out of the darkness of a 3 Dimensional existence and into the infinite 5th Dimensional frequencies of my soup.!”

To say a leaden pause followed would be understatement indeed; however, not willing to offend his guest helpers hauled the large pot onto the Arga, at the same moment the aromas of spit-roasted suckling pig wafted into the yard.

Like captives of the recital of very long and very bad poetry Napoleon’s fellow communitarians sat eyes glazed, the light from the Arga's flames rendered insipid by the very contents, or lack thereof, of the watery recipe simmering above. Darkness fell on the Kitchen as more corpulent members of the porcine fellowship squeezed through the door at the prospect of a feast.

Sat in serried ranks of shock, it was their leader’s duty to quell any insurgence; the guest was always right, this was tradition, and must at all cost receive due honour and the utmost respect. However this guest clearly needed taking down a peg or two. Besides, business always at the forefront of his mind, Napoleon had several kilos of Pork Scratchings to shift and experience had taught him that large already-formed groups were easiest to sell to.

As Evian Star sat rigid in anticipation of his watery soup, Napoleon approached the stove, lifted the lid and dipped a finger into the pot then brought it to his lips.

“Ummh. Delicious”, he exlaimed,"delicious, but may I suggest one thing?”

“Be my guest”. Replied Evian Star.

“It could do with a little salt”.

“If you think so”. Resolved Evian Star.

“I do” said Napoleon crushing a handful of rock salt into the pot.

This was followed by another long pause, after which Napoleon, once again dipped his finger into the pot and brought it to his lips.

“It is almost ready, but may I suggest one thing?”

“You may”, replied Evian Star.

“It could just do with a potato or two”.

“Oh, if you think so”.

“I do”, returned Napoleon tipping a dozen peeled potatoes into the pot.

A short pause followed. Evian failed to notice that a rosy colour was returning to the cheeks of all seated in the kitchen. Dipping a finger once again into the pot and sucking on it with a grand gesture, Napoleon declared.

“Your Evian soup is very near perfection, yet its sweetness could be enhanced with the addition of a few carrots”.

“Do you think so?”, queried Evian Star.

“I do”. Replied his host tipping a colander of chopped carrots into the pot.

As the Evian Soup simmered Napoleon weighed up his guest. He took a mouthful of soup, this time with the use of a ladle.

“Your soup is not only known nation-wide, but enjoys a world-wide reknown, and for good reason, but may I be so bold?, he said handing napkins out and receiving one back concealing a furtively tied Bouquet Garnis.

“You may”. Said Evian Star

“The tanginess of the zinc element could be slightly off-set by the addition of a few dices of pork”.

“Do you really think so?”

“I do”, said Napoleon as one of his members hurriedly entered with a bucket filled with  succulent pieces of freshly roasted pig.

As the bowls steamed before the company gathered, all waited respectfully as Evian Star lifted the first spoonful of soup to his mouth. A silence fell as the group assembled watched the founder of the Evianarians shovel spoonful after spoonful of Evian-based stew into his mouth.

Surreptitiously, Evian Star’s host edged a small jiffy-bag of Pork Scratchings towards his guest's bowl.


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