Ramblifications
Created | Updated Apr 22, 2002
Special thanks to M. Methanogen and Mme. Thermoccales for tolerating and nurturing my (somewhat *snort* absurd) thought process.
It all began at an introductory SGI Buddhist meeting, with that old, tired statement that humans might, if they've lead a particularily bad life, be reincarnated as a cockroach. And a visitor to the meeting with a background in physics asked the question "How would a cockroach create the causes that would make it reincarnate into a human being? "Have you ever heard the one about a scientist, a buddhist and an artist on a boat? Well.... here ya go. Put on your snorkel and mask, Ethel.... the water's gonna get murky.
Following are excerpts from some emails, so I can (hopefully) stay on track.
Halophiles: Thanks for asking the question about cockaroaches. I'm working on an answer to that one... I think when they create good causes they reincarnate as grasshoppers, at which point they have the potential to snatch the pebble from Sensei's hand. I like to write absurd little stories sometimes, and I have a feeling that might grow into one. It'll be fun to play with, if nothing else.
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Methanogen: I like your idea of writing a book and exploring the reincarnation of the cockroach, however, if you are looking for a real challenge you might start with another form of life such as the Ebola virus.
You can consider this a thought-experiment (der Gedanke Experiment) where we use reasoned arguments in seeking to understand the underlying concepts.
The opening sentence of your book. "This virus became what it is because of an unspeakable past. It is life at the edge of darkness. Its very existence expresses itself in extinction. It manifests itself by the onset of sudden illness and the disease it causes progresses swiftly to... death."
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Halophiles: I think you misunderstood.... I write absurd little stories, not books. My happiness comes from making things, not challenges, though it's always a challenge to make something that I like. hehehe I tend to use unreasonable arguments that have an inherent Brittonian logic and don't necessarily obey the physical laws <ahem> of the universe. I hold veto power, albeit gently.
So far, my story has Lloyd (the cockaroach) living in a military weapons development institution, where the people are working diligently to develop a device which will disrupt the life force in all living things within the earth's atmosphere.Why? Because rumor has it that nuclear weaponry will leave the earth to the roaches, and humans aren't overly thrilled with that idea and want something a little more.... final. ( I DO have a sick sense of humor. Please forgive. It's my nature.) So... they make a simple device that will fulfill that function, and of course they have to test it in a contained environment. As I was writing this I realized that I need an expert opinion on what that controlled environment might look like, and that you might be the one to ask, given that you have a background in physics. So I'm asking, James. Any ideas?
Now, good ol' Lloyd is gonna save the day by interfering with a switch in the Life Force Disrupter (LFD) and causing the scientists to believe that their theory was flawed and the government will chose to put its hard-earned (humph) dollars elsewhere.... fighting terrorism? *snort* (sorry, just HAD to go there) and he'll reincarnate into a glasshopper. Question is, what's a reasonable way for him to die for this cause that won't be too obvious, and won't leave his little curled up carcass somewhere to be discovered?
I think the next part of the story is going to be downright silly, bring up the old tale of the glasshopper and the ant, and have him snatch the pebble from the Sensei's fist. And he'll probably reincarnate yet again as Bubba the Baptist. I haven't decided yet whether he'll evolve further through learning to dance (la cucaracha?), or whether he'll be demoted to a lower (!) lifeform. That could be a place for the Ebola virus. I'll just have to see how the story develops.
*ahem*
I like this as a first paragraph.
"This virus became what it is because of an unspeakable past. It is life at the edge of darkness. Its very existence expresses itself in extinction. It manifests itself by the onset of sudden illness and the disease it causes progresses swiftly to... death."
And if it were my first paragraph, it would have to be soon followed with a description of the unspeakable past. It's my nature to break taboos, and what better taboo to break than to speak the unspeakable. I'd probably look up the ten commandments and see which of them that evil ol' Ebola had broken, and have Peetie god (the protagonist in another of my stories) come down in his righteous glory and slap that evil ol' Ebola around some. Perhaps, if I have your permission, I might just do that once Peetie god comes back from limbo. He's currently being 'moderated' by the BBC. *harrrrrrumph*
Anyway, hope I haven't totally disrupted your universe with this nutty stuff, but it's what I've been thinking about, and *pointing at your opening paragraph to a story*... you started it! How's that for a Gedanke Experiment? (I'm experiencing Schadenfreude right about now)
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My, how things evolve! The story isn't actually starting as I'd expected at all, though I'm sure I'll mosey on over to that beginning one of these days. And further emails occurred, which sparked more entropic tangents, and now.... here I am, ready to ramble. <bubbly>
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I hadn't realized that Archaeans weave webs. I thought that was arachnids.
You learn something every day, eh? That's what I get for engaging in
textual intercourse. It's a good thing. As I followed that thread I came
to realize that having the experiment (where Lloyd the cockaroach is going
to save the day) on Titan could add another interesting realm to the story
I'm churning if life in that place consists of a few sirens and a rich
culture of Archaeans. hehehe I might have to name the scientist in my
story Kilgore Trout to make that leap of Brittonian logic work, but I think
it can be done. If I include a couple of Arachean philosophers in the story
I could call them Thermoccales and Halophiles, though Halophiles would have
to be a bit of an extremist. If they were pronounced Ther-moc-cal-es and
Hal-o-phil-es they'd at least SOUND like proper philosophers, dontcha think?
And probably produce similar emissions
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IN THE BEGINNING
Once upon a time the three most reknowned Archaean http://www.ucmp.berkeley.edu/archaea/archaea.html philosophers of Titan were sipping cosmicpolitans on the head of a pin and doing what it was their nature to do. Methanogen, the most knowlegeable of the trio, dropped this statement into their midst as if it were the essential olive in a perfect martini, "Halophiles, just for completion, is this a form of Buddhism? 'People are divided into two groups - the righteous and the unrighteous - and the righteous do the dividing. Is that Buddhist thinking?"
Stirred, but not shaken, Halophiles began opinionating without much prior thought (which is her nature, and therefore to be forgiven in this best of all possible worlds). "No, that's not Buddhist thinking at all." Buddhists aren't supposed to be righteous. I think of Christians as righteous, always certain that they (and the Bible) have all the answers, and that anyone who questions or disagrees with them is WRONG. And will burn in hell. HUMPH. And yes, I know, that's a generalization. But that's how the vocal ones impress me.
After downing the first and ordering a second cosmicpolitan (the unofficial Muse of opinionating), Halophiles continued, "In my opinion, true Buddhists have selfishness down to an art form, to the extent that they realize that one can't actually be happy as long as one isolates oneself from the rest of humanity. AND that as long as there are unhappy people out there in the world needing to prey on other people's unhappiness, it will interfere with the pursuit of one's own happiness. Of course, there's the whole Good Friend/ Bad Friend concept that makes it really cool, because obstacles and interference are viewed as tools towards building personal strength and faith in one's practice, which is ultimately faith in oneself. Therefore, they do their best to let other people be happy. It makes the world a better place to be in."
Methanogen raised his brow and ordered yet another cosmicpolitan for himself and Halophiles. "Drink up, my dear. You're going somewhere, but I'm not quite sure where that might be. Get to the point already."
Halophiles glared fondly at Methanogen. "OK. If you insist, though I happen to find the path MUCH more entertaining than the destination. HUMPH. Yeah, that actually IS Buddhist thinking. I don't think Buddhists are into divisiveness, and I don't think they are supposed to be righteous, so as long as they aren't righteous, and as long as they aren't doing the dividing, they're behaving in what I see as a Buddhist manner. As long as the Buddhists maintain a state of unrighteousness, they're on the path toward enlightenment. Or at least coming out of the closet." She giggled in a tipsy manner and concluded, "I like that statement. It has that subtle kind of power that ...judo? ...is supposed to have. Righteous and unrighteous are weighted words. This statement uses the weight and the thrust in a surprising way."
Thermoccales, the practicing Buddhist in the group, gently thrust Halophiles into an upright position, because her weight was more than any self-respecting philosopher ought to bear on her own shoulders in this best of all possible worlds. "I have some words on the subject too," she said. "What I think? I think that sounds like the Nikken preists! ha!
Basically, I haven't ever heard of a specific sect of Buddhists
proclaiming themselves 'righteous'. I do know that some sects believe that not everyone can attain enlightment. I guess it is human nature as a result of our pesky, little egos to believe we are all separate beings and that some of us are better than others. As a result of this line of thinking, many people will proclaim themselves the bearer of the word of whatever deity or power they profess to believe. (ie: many of the popes, Osama Bin
Laden, Nikken, Jerry Falwell, Bill Gates, . . . ) Of course, there probably is a specific sect. If you're interested, there is a site called (PENDING) that has some of President Ikeda's writing and speeches and probably some of Nichiren Daishonen's writings, as well, just for your perusal.
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*** NOTE: That chunk needs work, and I think I'll let Thermoccales work on it with me. Delegation is one of my strong points :-)***
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Methanogen leaned forward with a How can there be light without the darkness? Ebola=darkness=The Back hole=The abyss at the edge of existence.
Halophiles: Have you tiptoed to the edge? Do you dare to dance the Limbo?
Methanogen: The answer to this one is yes, on many occassions. I have escaped the irreversible cessation of life and the imminent approach of death. I have the mind that found itself. I have been liberated and captured and freed again. I have challenged the substance of dualism and materialism.
Halophiles: Do you think that enlightenment is the opposite of gravity? Could an Ebola be enlightened?
Methanogen: Now what did I say? Even I get lost, however, I have tried. I have tried to explore life with a lean and poetic prose and understand the end game, the art of seeing, the perennial philosophy, the devils of loudon and of course the doors of perception and then heaven and hell.
Methanogen: The whole is larger than the some of its parts. Do we have a little Buddhism hidden in this?
Halophiles was at just the point of lubrication necessary for any sincere philosopher to swandive into the deep end and resurface in a fountain of ill logic. She wandered over to the jukebox and chose the entire soundtrack from 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show', then veered back to her seat on the pin.
"So, Methanogen" she asked, "Is 'The Rocky Horror Picture Show' a form of Buddhism?"
"In the velvet darkness
of the blackest night
burning bright
there's a guiding star.
No matter what, or who you are."
"Even if you're an Ebola?" Halophiles persisted.
"There's a light
over at the Frankenstein place.
There's a light burning in the fireplace.
There's a light
in the darkness of everybody's life."
"Even if you're an Ebola?" she asked again.
"The darkness must flow down the river of night's dreaming.
Flow, Morpheus
flow
let the sun and light come streaming
into my life."
Methanogen replied, "This virus became what it is because of an unspeakable past. It is life at the edge of darkness. Its very existence expresses itself in extinction. It manifests itself by the onset of sudden illness and the disease it causes progresses swiftly to... death."
"It's astounding
time is fleeting
madness takes its toll.
But listen closely...
not for very much longer.
I've got to keep control."
Halophiles: Ok. I've been toying with this one, and though I still like the idea of having it answer to the 10 commandments, it would be pretty simple to make it a good thing, if you were looking at it fom a Brittonian semi-buddhist perspective. Of course, that assumes a couple of leaps of.... faith....
"It's just a jump to the left
and then a step to the right
put your hands on your hips
and bring your knees in tight
but it's the pelvic thrust
that really drives you insane...
Let's do the time warp again."
Methanogen: Just when things become a little difficult you wait in anticipation for some fruits of faith to liberate you from your burden of fear and trembling. You have become more of a Christian than you might think.
Halophiles: Fruits of faith? I think I prefer wine. Christianity is rotting in the clutches of the fruitflys. I've been known to poke it sometimes, just to see what sickeningly sweet juices ooze out.
Methanogen: No more than any other religion. Do I detect a tender spot? Or perhaps, it is just a little disappointment.
Halophiles sighed and gazed into her watered-down drink as the jukebox suddenly skipped to Shirley Bassey singing "Diamonds are Forever"
"Diamonds are forever
they are all I need to please me
they can stimulate and tease me
they won't leave in the night
I've no fear that they might
desert me."
Halophiles: God has deserted us. God is dead. We killed him.
"Diamonds are forever
hold one up and then caress it
touch it, stroke it and undress it
I can see every flaw
nothing hides in the heart
to hurt me"
Halophiles: Science is safe. Science is my new god. Long live science.
"I don't need love
for what good will love do me?
Diamonds never lie to me
for when love's gone..."
Halophiles: For when God's gone...we still have diamonds, and science, and sparkly little moments that make it all worthwhile, right? And there's faith that it's all worthwhile, as long as you make it that way, right? *ahem* I hate a maudlin drunk. That's what happens when random stimulus stirs its finger in my silly mind. Oy vey. I hate it when that happens.
Halophiles gets up and whacks the jukebox so it burps a few times and then settles back into its predestined track on "the Rocky Picture Horror Show' and settles back into her semi-buddist ramblings. "So, if you're willing to accept that the purpose of reincarnation is to achieve enlightenment (in this best of all possible worlds)...and that one of the ways to get there is to recycle into another life, in order to have a 'fresh' start at addressing the issues which you didn't succeed in mastering in past lives (maybe they weren't really the BEST of all possible worlds, or maybe they were the best of all POSSIBLE worlds, but impossible worlds that are even better are lurking over the horizon )....
"It's so dreamy
oh, fantasy free me so you can't see me
no, not at all.
In another dimension with ?? intentions
well secluded, I see all.
With a bit of a mind flip
you're into the time slip
and nothing can ever be the same
You're spaced out on sensation
like you're under sedation.
Let's do the time warp again."
Halophiles: Then it's just a jump to the left (o! sinister left!)
Methanogen: You realize that this is redundant: Sinister --- left.
Halophiles: Yes. I know. Sometimes I like to be redundant. Sometimes I repeat myself.
Methanogen: I like this one and I bestow a kudos.
Halophiles winks and reiterates, " Then it's just a jump to the left to accept that Ebola is just a tool which accelerates our recycling into another brave new world. An opportunity aknockin'. Kinda like a key to the pearly gates of potential heaven, without the doldrums. Ebola is our good friend. He wears a sweater like Mr. Rogers, and had been known to sing 'Won't Cha Be My Neighbor'. He keeps his lawn mown, and ours too. What more can we ask? And once again humanity rears its ugly head, but you gotta love it, kinda like a bulldog, 'cause otherwise it's just a plain butt-ugly waste of skin ..."
"So, come up to the lab
and see what's on the slab
I see you shiver with antici
....pation.
But maybe the pain is really to blame
so I'll remove the cause
but not the symptom."
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Give yourself over to absolute pleasure
swim the warm waters of sins of the flesh
erotic nightmares beyond any measure
and sensual daydreams to treasure forever.
Can't you just see it?
Don't dream it.
Be it.
The red pill or the green pill. Which one do you chose?
Ach!
We've got to get out of this trap
before this decadence saps our wits.
I've got to be strong
and try to hang on
or else my mind may well
*snap*
und my life will be lived
for the....
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Holey <ghost> Batman! Where did this come from? <yikes>
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Suddenly, a rumpled, jet-lagged and decidedly grumpy Peetie god *poofs* out of cyberlimbo and slaps his mom none-too-gently upside the head.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING? It's been an hour and you've made what? A sentence??? You have a comittment, a pact, a MISSION! Get to it. NOW!!!! Dammit, I've gotta mambo outa limbo for THIS???? Just when that whiny brat finally went to sleep? <grr> 99 bottles of beer on the wall, indeed. If it hasn't been Hell, it certainly has been a ringside seat in Purgatory. Thank ummmm.... Me! The little imp's mom finally went to the bathroom and I force fed him some vodka. He'll snooze for hours.
But, back to the business at hand. You're having problems working on the bit you have in there? Fine. No big deal. There's all sorts of pieces to work on. You know what you always say, Mom (and I can't believe I'm having to remind you of this). Just start at a point. Make a line. Give it a twist. Color it in. It'll turn into what it's meant to be. Geeeeeez. It applies to writing stories as well as drawing. Now, here's a little divine inspiration for you....
PAY ATTENTION!
DON'T make me set that bush afire. I got out of the miracles and visions business years ago. I'm only here to set you straight because you're my mom, and besides, I have nooooo intention of supporting you in your older age. So you'd better get with it. Right now. Develop some discipline. Go catch the Ebola. That's where the enlightenment is gonna begin, for today."
A gentle *FOOP* and Peetie slips back to where he came from.
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EBOLA
Methanogen swirled the olive in his glass and peered at Thermoccales. "I have a question about reincarnation. You buddhists seem to be of the opinion that humankind is the ultimate incarnation, the final step before entering Nirvana. More than once I've heard it said that if someone does terrible things in this life he might reincarnate as a cockroach, for example. If that's the case, how would a cockroach create the causes which would set it back on the path toward humanity? And what about something truly evil... something like the Ebola virus? This virus became what it is because of an unspeakable past. It is life at the edge of darkness. Its very existence expresses itself in extinction. It manifests itself by the onset of sudden illness and the disease it causes progresses swiftly to... death."
A figure arose from a nearby table and injected himself into the conversation. "Wait a minute... that's really not at all fair. Pardon the interruption, but I couldn't help but overhear your comments about Ebola. We've got a bad rap, but if you'd just take a moment and walk a few steps in our shoes you'd realize that we aren't evil... we merely follow our nature. We're not human, you know. We don't have free will. It's not one of the options in our design package, not even in the most highly engineered, state-of-the-art, military sponsored Ebola. So give us a break, ok?"
"First of all, we're not of the same stuff as Buddhists. We were created by God. They weren't. We have inherent limitations. They don't, as long as they follow their Buddha nature. It's inappropriate to make value judgements about us, especially to perpetrate those myths about our inherent evilness. In your case it's just pure species prejudice. It's God's place to judge our merit, not yours. Sure, there's that unsubstanciated rumor that we broke the ten commandments... but did you notice the timing on that newsflash? Right in the middle of one of the biggest intergalactic sex scandals the Universal Guidance Comittee has ever endured? I mean.... think about it.... mightn't it be just possible that the whole thing was a carefully crafted plot? If you've suddenly got Ebola breaking commandments left and right, redefining the meaning of evil, then the breaches of faith, the lies and deceptions the chairman indulged in don't look quite so bad in comparison, do they?"
"As far as this notion of our unspeakable past, we were created when God created the world! There's no doubt about it... we have proof. He said it was so in the bible. We have no past, per se. We didn't have to go through dubious evolutionary phases... we have no missing links. Just because some people are arrogant enough to try to improve on God's grand design, well, that's not our fault. If we're being put to evil uses that's not our fault, either. Talk to the ones with free will about their moral choices."
http://www.uct.ac.za/microbiology/ebopage.html
5-7 day injected incubation period
Then God spoke all these words, saying, "I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.
3"You shall have no other gods besides Me.
4 "You shall not make for yourself an idol, or any likeness of what is in heaven above or on earth beneath or in the water under the earth.
5 "You shall not worship them or serve them; for I, the Lord your God, am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers on the children, on the third and the four fourth generations of those who hate Me, 6 but showing lovingkindness to thousands, to those who love Me and keep My commandments.
7 "You shall not take the name of the Lord your God in vain, for the Lord will not leave him unpunished who takes His name in vain.
8 "Remember the sabbath day, to keep it holy. "Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath of the Lord your God; in it you shall not do any work, you or your son or your daughter, your male servant or your female servant or your cattle or your sojourner who stays with you. "For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea and all that is in them, and rested on the seventh day; therefore the lord blessed the sabbath day and made it holy.
12 "Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be prolonged in the land which the Lord your God gives you.
13 "You shall not murder.
14 "You shall not commit adultery.
15 "You shall not steal.
16 "You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor.
17 "You shall not covet you neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife or his male servant or his ox or his donkey or anything that belongs to your neighbor."
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LLOYD THE COCKAROACH
Once upon a time a perfectly common, ordinary roach named Lloyd made some choices which impacted the future of an entire planet. Lloyd had a quiet life with his tribe in the basement of a military research facility. They took care not to be seen by the humans who ran the facility, as the xenophobic humans had a disturbing disregard for the lives of creatures not like themselves and had a tendency to destry them on sight, innitially through traditional warfare (the boot) followed by chemical warfare designed to annihilate entire colonies.
The two species had one major difference in their approach-- humans preferred to impact and control their environment through technological applications, while the roaches believed in gaining supremacy through numbers and infiltrated areas, set up their enclaves, and procreated with all their might. This irritated the humans because there was a standing presumption that even after they finally achieved their ultimate goal of being able to kill off their entire species through nuclear weaponry, the roaches would survive. It didn't seem right that such lowly and relatively unevolved creatures should be capable of thwarting mankind's most potent creation, so a small group of the world's most innovative scientists banded together to create a means of destroying the life force in everything. Of course, they had no intention of ever actually applying their knowlege... they just wanted to see if it could be done. Their government funded the research because it just might come in handy one day if other planets ever needed to be conquered and rid of local vermin, so the criteria were that the environment would be untouched (other than the destruction of all life, of course), and that it would be a quick and reasonably painless death. They weren't brutes, after all.
After years of fruitless effort, Dr. Elvis Himmelsgrund knew it was time to take a fresh approach. The frustration was about to drive him to drink, and being an intelligent man, he realized that drinking would do nothing more than kill off his most valuable asset-- his mighty brain. After idly watching the tree surgeon prune the oaks on his property, Elvis decided that a bit of mental pruning was the necessary thing, get rid of the old, dead wood, the scraggly neural branches that were depleting his capacity for creative thought. After grave consideration he decided to take an old and tested method towards mental restructuring and he dusted off his college cookbook and whipped up a batch of LSD.
He took a six week sabatical, rented a comfortable Winnebago, and drove west to a secluded spot in Death Valley, reasoning that there was no better place on Earth to seek his inspiration. His plan was to keep himself under the influence of the hallucinogen for six days and then to take a day of rest and see what resulted. So he drove and ate, drove and slept, and drove again. At last, when he reached a spot in the desert and was tired of driving, he stopped.
The sun was sinking into a late afternoon sky, tinting the sand and stone and cactus golden orange. A good place to be, he decided. After a light dinner Elvis uncorked a bottle of fine wine he'd set aside for the occasion of his first expedition into the unexplored realms of his consciousness. He was nervous-- not knowing what to expect, not at all sure he'd find what he was seeking. Though he wasn't an especially brave man he was a determined one. He poured and admired the balloon of wine in the sun's rays and he sipped. He relaxed in the warmth and slipped his first piece of blotter into the niche between his cheek and molars and waited for something to happen. For a long time nothing did. The sun continued to sink toward the west, the sky deepened to lilac and rose as he contemplatively sipped his wine. When he rose from his lounge chair in the desert and turned to refill his glass he spotted the moon lurking large and low over the horizon. Impatiently he paced in the sand, from one point to another, waiting. A coyote howled in the distance and the hair on his arms stood up and captured the evening breeze, giving him a chill. He shuddered, remembering his grandmother describing that sensation as a goose walking over her grave. With a full glass of wine he returned to his seat, wondering if the drug would ever take effect. Impatiently he tucked another piece of blotter by his gums as the coyote howled again.
The desert was silvery and dim and grey, another world with the color leaked out. The air cooled rapidly and he went into the camper for a sweater. As he slipped his arms into the fuzzy warmth he sniggered, visualizing Mr. Rogers and his old song, "wontcha be my neighbor, wontcha be my friend'. Elvis stepped back outside and moseyed to his lawnchair, noticing a coyote perched at a polite distance from his camper. The animal wagged its tail and grinned in a friendly fashion when Elvis patted his thigh and jokingly said, "c'mere boy". It stood up and cautiously stepped a few feet closer, hesitated and came closer still.
To his surprise Elvis felt no fear at the coyotes approach. The beast appeared to have a goofy grin, and as it sidled along it seemed subservient rather than threatening. It settled down a few feet from Elvis and curled its tail over its paws and sniffed the air.
<grr> this isn't working yet. Poop. Not giving up... I'll try again later.