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The Prince of Dungland:
This is not part of my philosophy series:
This is a myth:
March 25, 2002:
Once upon a time, there was an evil empire called Dungland. What
made this land unique, other that its evil empire status, was
its status as the execution capitol of the world. Many other lands
abhorred execution and had outlawed it as barbaric. Still others,
which allowed executions, usually made great efforts to avoid
actually doing it. In Dungland, however, the people held an abiding
love for the ceremony.
Only one other land had at one time aspired to such greatness.
That was a rather primitive land in a far away place called France.
A very long time ago these people held a very strange dance called
The Enlightenment. The dance actually continued for several years.
In that time, it built up to a frenzy and finally culminated in
an orgy of executions. Since then, no other land has aspired to
the title of execution capitol of the world save for Dungland.
In Dungland, lived a certain prince named Bobby Joe Polk. Now,
in Dungland, being a prince was not all that special. A prince
was only identified by the color of his skin, which was mostly
white. The only advantage to being a prince was the strong likelihood
of never being executed. It was a form of protection which usually
worked.
To be sure, for the sake of appearance, Dungland did execute a
prince on some rare occasions. This only occurred when they were
able to find a perfect fool. For the most part, a prince was protected
if he could only avoid becoming a perfect fool. This protection
did not necessarily extend to any princesses. Princesses were
sometimes executed.
Now, prince Bobby Joe, as many of us do, yearned to be more that
just a prince. He wished to be some kind of noble god hero. Unlike
the rest of us who yearn to be more noble that we are, Bobby Joe
was very determined. He cast about searching for ways he could
do that. Then he came upon the writings of some famous psychiatrists.
They wrote about a human disorder called split personality. Then
he thought, ‘If it can happen by accident, perhaps it can
happen by design. With another mind, I might become a true hero.'
The prince pondered on this for many years. He became more and
more obsessed with it. He had this idea that there really was
another more noble person hidden within him. He had only to bring
that person forth. Then one day, without his knowledge, his mind
did split into two parts. In one part, he continued to wear the
persona of a noble prince provider hero. This is a normal persona
and the persona he presented to the world. In fact, it was the
only persona of which he was conscious.
Beneath this outward persona lurked a diabolical evil prince who
was not known even to the prince himself. Though the noble prince
had forgot his dream of being a noble god hero, the diabolical
prince had not. With no active role to occupy him, he plotted
to fulfill the dream. From that, he evolved a diabolical plot.
All he needed to implement it was a likely dupe. He saw that dupe
in the princess. The princess was totally dependent upon the prince
for sustenance, both physical and emotional. Through her, the
plan could be realized.
At this time, the princess had already borne three offspring.
She was very content with the task of caring for them. She always
looked forward to her time with the prince when he returned from
the world of commerce. Then she could share her day with him and
listen to his counsel. In these times, the diabolical prince began
to insert words and statements into the dialogs which the noble
prince held with the princess.
One day the noble prince asked, " Are you happy with your
life my dear?"
"Indeed I am," replied the princess.
"That is good," said the noble prince.
Then the diabolical prince added, "You do look a bit tired
though. That concerns me."
"Do I look tired?" asked the princess. "I feel
fine."
"I'm glad," said the noble prince.
"But, if you would like to get some early rest, I can manage
the children," said the diabolical prince with a noble expression.
"Oh no," said the princess. "You do enough in your
work. Caring for the children is my pleasure."
The noble prince smiled and hugged the princess.
"That is the right attitude," he said.
"We must always make sure our children are in good loving
hands," added the diabolical prince.
And so it went. That night in bed, the princess pondered and wondered
about her ability to fulfill her role. There had been no doubt
earlier. Now there was.
Then the diabolical prince touched her arm.
"If you are not too weary from your day, I have a need,"
he said.
The princess had not felt weary or uncertain during the day. Now
she felt both. Still, he was the prince and she responded to his
need. And so it went.
When the princess discovered that she was with child, she began
to brood. A doubt had been placed and she wondered about here
adequacy as a mother. It was also coming time to start with the
education of the little ones. This she knew was also her duty
and uncertainty beset her. One evening, she discussed it with
the prince.
"It is coming time to begin the education of our children,"
she said. "I wish to be sure I will do it right."
"Of course, you will do it right," said the noble prince.
"You are a God fearing woman. Who could be better suited?"
"It's true, I am God fearing," said the princess.
"And we must be sure our children do not go to hell,"
said the diabolical prince. "That will be in your hands."
The princess shuddered and the noble prince noticed.
"Are you feeling uncertain about it?" he asked.
"You were so sure before," added the diabolical prince.
"Perhaps you are just tired."
"I do feel a bit tired now," replied the princess. "Perhaps
you are right."
"Why don't you just take an early bath and go to bed,"
said the noble prince.
"I can manage the children for tonight," added the diabolical
prince. "Don'‘t worry about us."
The princess went off to her bath filled with doubt and misgivings.
She felt overwhelmed. she was sure she would fail. She lay in
bed brooding about her failures. When the prince came to bed she
needed his support, but he turned his back to her. Heavy with
child and uncertain in her role, she felt completely unattractive
and unwanted. And so it went.
When the new child was born, the princess felt a renewed strength.
The child was beautiful and the future looked great again. She
was sure she could meet the challenges of her role. That was the
after birth euphoria. It was quickly followed by a serious depression.
Her doubts, reenforced by the diabolical prince, returned stronger
than ever.
Seeing her mood, which grew progressively worse, the noble prince
took the princess to a learned doctor. The doctor examined her
and questioned her. Then he spoke to the prince.
"The princess is suffering from a serious depression,"
he said.
"What must I do?" asked the noble prince.
"She needs nothing more than reassurance and support over
a long time," replied the doctor. "she needs help in
her duties."
"I can do that," replied the noble prince. "I will
take up some of the household chores."
"That is a start," said the doctor, "but it will
take time. Just make sure she gets emotional support along with
that."
"To be sure," said the noble prince.
"One more thing," said the good doctor.
The noble prince looked to the doctor. "What thing, doctor?"
"The princess must never have another offspring. If she does,
she may become completely unstable."
"I understand," said the noble prince. "We are
blessed enough."
The diabolical prince was pleased that the good doctor had concentrated
on the princess and not questioned him. He was not at all sure
of his ability to con a true professional.
Later, at home the prince and the princess spoke.
"We must work together to get through this," said the
noble prince. "The doctor has said that you need support
and help from me."
"You do so much already." said the princess. "It
seems unfair. I feel that I have failed you."
"Nonsense," said the noble prince. "You have not
failed. We will overcome this. It is a set back, not a defeat."
"I know you will never fail our children," added the
diabolical prince. "You will never let them go to hell."
That night in bed, the diabolical prince turned to her. "If
you are not too weary, I have a need," he said.
Of course, she was very weary and very depressed, but he was the
prince. She served him as best she could. And so it came to pass
that another child was born to the prince and princess and her
duties went on — and on — and on.
In all of this time, the princess was locked up each day in the
cottage with only the children. There were no adult minds to nurture
hers, only the demands of dependant children. She had no intellectual
input. She had only the children, her duties, and the confusing
contradictory input of the prince.
Each day the princess became more and more depressed and each
day the diabolical prince reminded her that the children must
not be allowed to go to hell.
"I would rather have them die than go to hell," he said.
Each day she pondered her dilemma. She wondered how to save her
children from the devil. Then one day the thought occurred to
her. If the children died while they were still innocent, they
were sure to go to heaven. She could beat the devil. She pondered
on this simple strategy for several months. Then one day, alone
again with the children, she acted. She took their lives and offered
their souls to God. Then she called the police. The police came
and what they found was not a princess but the completely mad
woman she had become.
The prince was called home from work.
As he rushed into the yard, the diabolical prince shouted, "What
has she done to my children?"
Of course, this revealed that the diabolical prince knew quite
well what she had done. He simply did not know the how of it.
His plot was working. There was just one detail and that was to
show the world that he was indeed a noble martyred god hero, done
in by the diabolical foil of fate.
Of course the media folks showed up, as they always do when there
is the promise of a bizarre show of some kind. The prince made
a show of avoiding them. He even refused a media presence at his
children's funeral. Then, at the eleventh hour, he relented and
invited the media folks. The diabolical prince knew that, unlike
professionals, the media folk are gullible and quite easy to con.
At that funeral the diabolical prince put on the best show of
his life. He played the martyred god hero using his dead children
as props in his charade. He postured for the media folk and gave
heart rending soliloquies over each of the infants. Then, the
ever gullible media folk scurried off with their reports. They
told the story to a waiting world.
"There was not a dry eye in the house," said one report.
House, of course, is a term used to describe a performing theater,
not a funeral chapel. This little slip revealed what the media
folk were concealing even from themselves. They knew, beneath
it all, that they had watched a performance, not a real event.
The princess, was tried by the courts of Dungland and found guilty
of murder in the first degree. In the sentencing, the jury had
a choice of giving her a quick and merciful execution or a long
and torturous one. They chose prolonged torture. She was sentenced
for life to the penal system of Dungland where she was sure to
never receive treatment for her emotional disorders. Heavily sedated,
she would wait to die with only the ongoing torture of her own
convoluted thoughts.
Each time, the prince had the opportunity to speak, he continued
to put all responsibility outside of himself and play the role
of the martyred god hero. He blamed the medical establishment
and the courts. He never blamed himself. It seems that the diabolical
prince took complete charge. Many people, by that time, had become
suspicious of his motives and the diabolical prince was fighting
for his reputation, perhaps even his life. In that epic struggle,
who can know what became of the noble prince.
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