Parable of the Machine

Filed Under: Storytelling, Literature.

This is a tale about our civilization in its first great battle against the winds of life. These winds act as the very force which propels the cycle of life and death - the very seed which nourishes our Earth from the ravaging cold of deep space. All life follows the flow of the winds, for, if not, they shall be left to fight those very winds which give them life. Ages ago, we decided to no longer flow in the direction of the winds, and in doing so, we marked that day as the greatest battle humanity has, and ever will face.

Once upon a time, as our great civilization ruthlessly fought against the winds of life, a keen young inventor named Cognis created a creation to end all suffering. A conglomeration of nuts, bolts, turning gears and wheels this was. A name was coined to convey it’s ultimate power - The Machine. The workings were simple, insert a man, woman or child into its cavernous interior slots, and they will live their lives, turning the cranks and pulling the levers. In return, they shall receive full protection from the pervasive winds of life.

At first, the inhabitors of this Machine wanted no place alongside its creation. They exclaimed, “Within such a creation, we will have no sunlight - we will see no gentle sparkle of the stream or witness the overhead grace of an eagle. Within such a creation, life will be miserable!”

Cognis eventually convinced them that to do otherwise was a mark of death, for they, without the protection of this machine, would suffer greatly from the ravaging winds ? even if they could watch the spectacle of a pretty day. He insisted that they immediately congregate within its dark iron depths and begin to lead lives of the proposed safety from those pervasive winds. Surely, Cognis thought, who would want to die in order to see a sunset, or feel the morning dew at the bottom of their feet?

And so, it began…

With a great burgeoning roar, the machine came to life. Its towering smokestacks poured black soot into the crisp afternoon air; its elongated arms stretched to their limits, reaching to the sky to mark its dominion. The Machine worked beautifully, drilling itself harder and harder into the soils, holding its stance against the winds of life. It leveled the nearby forests, and dug every mineral from the soils below its merciless stance. It began to grow - larger and larger ? allowing unrelentless drones of newcomers into its iron depths. So now, they too shall live the rest of their days in the greatest of safety, where they too shall be shielded from those horrendous winds of life.

And so the machine?s legacy continued forth…

As the years passed on - ten, hundreds and even thousands, the Machine still grew and grew, consuming what our mother the earth gave so selflessly. Within it’s ever-deepening depths, whole cultures were formed, and an entire plethora of diverse peoples existed under the rule of its impenetrable caverns. The people were disconnected from the outside world as the machine went on to ravage what it could, onward against the winds of life.

The legacy of Cognis still lived on, and one late night, most everyone living within the Machine celebrated its sheer invincibility to the winds thus far. They basked in fine wines and lounged in plush chairs talking through the night about how great such an invention this was.

However, not atune to the chattering of the commoners, a small resistance was planning to escape from the machine - to break through the walls and live lives of which their ancestors always spoke. A curiosity drove their will to see for themselves a life not within the dark depths of this machine. As children, they were told that the winds outside would surely tear them to shreds, yet even so; they persisted in following the guidance of their hearts.

Led by a elder revolutionary named Alazanto, those in the resistance began to tear away at the chain-links, the webs of wire and even the thick metal plating which sealed them within. Through the night amid the celebration, they refused to give up, and at dawn, they had succeeded. The sun shone through a small crack. The resistance had never seen anything so bright ? yet oddly beautiful. With more persistence, they had widened the crack, giving enough room for the first man to squeeze through. Alazanto stepped outside the walls, and as he did, before his eyes stood forests as far as the eye could see. He only heard of such a place in fairy tales, but now and here this was true to him - this was the real world, and the real life to live at last.

Soon after, everyone in the resistance escaped the spanning walls of the machine. They settled by a cliff-top in order to see the expanse of this new world. As they peered miles outward, they were shocked to see the path of destruction this machine had laid. Forests full of living creatures of all kinds, waterfalls and even sparkling streams were decimated to an arid wasteland. This Machine had wantonly killed everything upon the very land which gave life to those within, and without such land, the Machine would surely destroy itself.
“It has to be stopped!? shouted a young man.

“To stop the Machine, is to destroy the Machine. To do so, is to kill nearly all those who inhabit it. Few can live off the forests still remaining, and who are we to decide who can live and who can die?? calmly replied Alazanto.

“What else are we to do? The Machine cannot go on like this!”

“If we were to show those who live within the Machine the sheer beauty of this world outside, then they may all want to live their lives here. If so, they could not all eat, they would have no shelter.? explained Alazanto, “However, not all people would believe our words - many may just laugh hysterically at our stories. Upon this, many would fight to defend the very Machine that now marks their demise. Nevertheless, if those who support our cause could escape to live outside the expansive Machine, and if those who fight to defend it shall stay within, could we not live our lives out here in peace? But alas, the Machine may then turn its hideous face towards our homes and destroy what is left, including us - then onto its very destiny. We could go to war, but how can one fight such a behemoth?”

At that very point, a young girl softly spoke before the resistance. ?Perhaps if we converge back into the machine, then begin to slowly dismantle it, we may someday succeed. The machine has been running amok for thousands of years; as such, we may need to spend at least that much time fixing the wrong it has done thus far?

And so they followed her wisdom to converge back within the Machine.

The road ahead is long and treacherous, and those who live within the Machine may never succeed, but the resistance knows for sure that they can try - and try they may for the very hope of living an eternity outside the unswayable walls of the Machine will never fade…

Published: 7 years, 7 months ago