sepp and the orange land

Kabul 113

Black Shark Valley

Sepp awoke into a strange dream. He got up and he was free and light. He wondered where he was. It was all orange around him, the colors varying from deep to lighter shades of orange. But the theme here was orange he thought, decidedly. He walked straight on a narrow orange road that led to an orange horizon, the trees here were orange too but only dry wood as far as he could see. No leaves but they seemed to have something round on their branches. Something closed. It was cold here and he shivered. The air was dry and cold. It felt like mountain air. He looked at himself. He was naked. Now he felt vulnerable, the great Waffen SS General who had commanded millions was naked.

He walked and the ground was soft but barren. There was no one here. Then he came to a great tree, and there was a giant closed eye on it with a thick brown membrane over it. He stared at the closed eye. He could not speak and then he looked up. Blood was dripping from up above, fresh blood, and then he saw a demon’s head chewing mechanically on a branch. There was something in its mouth and someone was screaming but he could not hear. He was sure there were screams as he could feel waves of sound hit him, he could see them but he could not hear. Then he saw the other branches and there were demons on them too, each one chewing, blood dripping and then as he saw deeper into the branches, he could make out human heads, and body parts as they were crushed by the demonic teeth, inside the demonic mouths. Then he saw that the tree was transparent and the body parts partially chewed were travelling to the main tree trunk from the branches where they were being added up again. Then a face was added to this newly synthesized body, and then through the transparent bark he could see the face and he could almost relate to it. It was like someone he knew. But suddenly its eyes flew open and then its mouth opened in a big O, as if it was in pain.

Then the great Eye opened on the tree trunk, and it looked at Sepp. The Eye was red and it blinked. Suddenly Sepp could hear. Screams! The tree was screaming, everyone in the tree was screaming and the demons were screaming too like ghouls. Even the great Eye was screaming, but instead he could see the Eye’s screams in bloody sound waves as they hit him like bubbles full of blood. He was wet with blood, he tried to scream, he could see his sound waves hitting the tree but he could not hear his own screams. He could not contain it anymore and then he ran. He ran in terror down the orange solitary road lest he too be ingested by this Tree of Demons.

Sepp then came across a mountain and there was something white on top. It could be snow but then it would be so bizzare to have snow here in this orange land. In the distance he could see more Demon trees along the orange road and he decided to go with this snowy mountain.

He climbed the mountain and climbed with his bare feet. Over the grey rocks but he was light as a bird. He could not tire and his feet were unmarked by the toil. At last he reached the snow and it was cold, but not colder than the plains. The snow was soft under his feet but no softer than the rocks below.

“The paradox of life isn’t it my friend” said a voice in the distance. Sepp stared at a naked mustached man with a heavy ponderous face come to him. He seemed comical, this man, short and with such a heavy Mustache. He was smiling at him as if he was expecting a good friend.

“I know you” said Sepp thinking where he had seen him.

“I know you too” said this man simply.

“You know you almost ruined this world, with your philosophy, Friedrich. Well not really ruined but awoke it too much. The people were not ready” said Sepp calmly as he stared at Nietzsche.

“Oh yes they were, look where they have reached now, the fools without having awoken. Look at what happened for the brief moment that they had awoken. It was glorious” said Nietzsche savoring his effect that he had on the World. He giggled.

“You know you are quite mad, Herr Nietzsche” said Sepp looking into the horizon. What a fine view it was from this mountain. Ah splendid, could there even be an orange sunset here, wondered Sepp.

“Well Obergruppenfuhrer Josef, you owe your life and fame to me. Who do you think allowed all this to happen? Have you ever wondered, your coming back to life and living in Uzbekistan and meeting me here again? It was I who allowed Himmler to have that inspiration, that half-witted fool who couldn’t even skin a chicken properly. You see it was Friedrich Nietzsche all along behind this game” said Nietzsche happily.

“What kind of game is this? Who are you playing this game with? God? Allah?” asked Sepp intrigued, looking at a thousand demon trees below.

“There is no Allah here. This is hell my friend and I have a wager with my good friend and hated enemy Trotsky. We are simply settling our arguments with an Experiment. In hell we are bestowed with this kind of power” said Nietzsche in an airy voice as he waved to someone in the distance.

Behind the snowy peak, clambered another short naked man over the rocks and onto the soft snow, bespectacled, a very University type, another man right at home in the bibliotheca.

“Leon Trotsky” said Trotsky, shaking hands with Sepp, angry that Nietzsche had met Sepp first. “I hope he wasn’t trying to tell you that it was only him. I am controlling this situation too. I too am in this game. He is just a bad loser” Trotsky was speaking in Yiddish.

Sepp winced at hearing this bastard German language mixed horribly with Russian, and Nietzsche nodded, “Yes that very Jew who has tried to take over this world with Bolshevism and is now responsible for the so called Neo-cons who have no ideology of their own. I tried to kill him here, many times but unfortunately we can’t die here. We are already dead” Nietzsche said regretfully looking at Trotsky lovingly. They were now friends.

Trotsky was grinning at Sepp now, a nerdy grin thought Sepp. “So how do you like your life on Earth? That Natasha bird is a fine babe right? That was my idea” said Trotsky proudly.

“And you Nietzsche, what did you give me?” asked Sepp turning to him.

“Why I gave you mastery of the Werewolves” he said proudly. That was my idea.

“And who gave me my life back”

“That was a joint decision” said Trotsky solemnly.

“So what am I?” asked Sepp bewildered.

“Das Experiment!” chimed both Trotsky and Nietzsche.

Sepp nodded and pondered over the gleeful men as they danced around him naked. The merry men it seemed in Hell, controlled so many events on Earth.

“Anybody else here? Is he here, you know who I am talking about?” asked Sepp hardly daring to breathe.

“No Josef, Hitler is in Heaven. He carried out God’s work to the letter. So he was just part of the grand design. It was us intellectuals that get hell for thinking too much and trying to explain God’s plan too much” said Trotsky resignedly.

“So any other intellectual giants here?” wondered Sepp.

“We got Herschel here. Yup last time I saw him he was trying to find a good spot here for some of his friends away from all of us. He keeps saying that he gets picked on too much and doesn’t like living here with us” said Nietzsche with a hurt expression on his face.

“You are referring to Theodore right” exclaimed Sepp. So he had made it here too, that wanker.

“Yeah Theodore was a strange case, he was in Purgatory for some time, he complained so much that they sent him to Heaven but then he wanted a separate place in Heaven for himself. Didn’t like all the Christian women there. Freud psychoanalyzed him for some time and diagnosed him with a personality disorder. What was it, Nietzsche, do you remember?” asked Trotsky scratching his head.

“Schizoid personality with avoidant behavior secondary to being rejected by his Mother too much. Same old usual Oedipus crap from Freud. Then Freud in his wisdom recommended Hell for him. Now we have to deal with him” said Nietzsche matter-of-factly getting bored with this conversation and was turning his mind to other thoughts.

“OK Sepp we must continue the experiment now. The time for questions is over” said Trotsky with an experimental look on his face and hit Sepp on his head with a rock. The lights went out.

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