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A very controversial story for you today

Hello!

 

 

Lars here.

 

 

I hope it's an unreasonably good day in your neck of the woods.

 

 

I've been thinking of a story recently, one with a very controversial ending.

 

 

It goes like this:

 

 

A boy is born into a middle-class American family in the early 1970s.

 

 

They live in a bright, yellow people-box in a proto-suburb at the fringe of a mid-sized city.

 

 

The dad likes martinis, landscaping projects, and the Green Bay Packers. He knows computers -- the kind with punch cards and such -- and owns a consulting firm. He does lots of work for the space program.

 

 

The mom likes crafts, romance novels, and iced tea. She does bookkeeping and has a side hustle selling cosmetics.

 

 

The boy is bright but shy. He is small for his age and feels awkward at birthday parties.

 

 

At night, the family sits together on a burgundy couch in their yellow house.

 

 

They read stories together.

 

 

Strange stories.

 

 

Stories that blow the boy's mind.

 

 

These stories aren't about rocket ships or talking animals or deep sea adventures.

 

 

These stories are about aliens.

 

 

The boy reads these stories aloud to the parents. They help him pronounce the words. Occasionally, they interrupt to make sure the boy has understood what he has just read.

 

 

It is very important that he understand, they say.

 

 

So the boy does his best to take it all in.

 

 

The aliens sound quite terrifying.

 

 

They can't be seen.

 

 

When they move, which they do with fantastic speed, they cause no disturbance and make no sound.

 

 

They pass easily through solid objects, even people.

 

 

When the aliens speak, they don't produce a sound, the boy learns. What they say can only be heard inside our heads. 

 

 

The boy also learns that every time he thinks a thought, the aliens can hear it.

 

 

Always.

 

 

No matter where the boy may hide, the aliens are always listening to the thoughts in his head.

 

 

So it is very important to think the right kinds of thoughts.

 

 

Because the aliens are powerful. They can unleash cataclysmic events on a galactic scale. 

 

 

And they can also unleash cataclysmic events on a personal scale.

 

 

They have the power to create, and they have the power to destroy.

 

 

So the aliens should definitely not be angered.

 

 

The boy learns that there is a long list of things the aliens do not like. These angering things do not have to be things that the boy actually does. Even his thoughts can anger the aliens.

 

 

And certain kinds of thoughts are especially disturbing to the aliens. They make the aliens murderously angry.

 

 

This frightens the boy. The aliens can't be seen, felt, heard, or touched. There is no sanctuary from them. They are always watching and always listening. And they do horrible things when they are angry.

 

 

The boy also learns that the aliens can inject certain thoughts into his mind.

 

 

And that there are good aliens and bad aliens.

 

 

The good aliens are sometimes angry. The bad ones are always angry.

 

 

Thoughts from good aliens should be held close, heeded, believed, and cherished.

 

 

Thoughts from bad aliens should be banished from his mind.

 

 

And so the boy wonders...

 

 

As each thought comes into his mind...

 

 

Whether it came from a good alien or a bad one.

 

 

And he also wonders

 

 

whether any of the thoughts inside his own mind

 

 

are his own thoughts.

 

 

He wonders how he might tell the difference between his own thoughts, good alien thoughts, and bad alien thoughts.

 

 

He is confused.

 

 

And because of the good aliens and the bad aliens and the terrible cost of allowing bad thoughts to take root, the boy learns to question every thought he thinks.

 

 

To gain wisdom, the boy is taken to meet with others, and to listen to men who have studied the aliens for many years. These men, he is told, have the answers. They know the meaning of the ancient writings, which are strange and sometimes nonsensical yet contain all the answers to any kind of question that can be asked. This is what the wise men say.

 

 

These men do not make the boy any less confused.

 

 

"Have you seen the aliens?" the boy asks the wise men. "Do they speak to you?"

 

 

Yes, the aliens do speak to the wise men, just as they speak to all men, and with time, the boy is told, he too will learn the character of their voices, so that his doubts will be erased and he will walk a safe path through his life.

 

 

With time may come understanding, he is told.

 

 

But for the moment, the main thing is to believe in the aliens.

 

 

Because while they see all things, hear all things, and know all things... and while they have unfathomable powers to create and destroy...

 

 

The aliens demand to be believed in.

 

 

Believing in the aliens is the most important thing, the wise men say.

 

 

Believing in the aliens is even more important than food or water, according to the ancient text.

 

 

Because aliens punish disbelief. And they have the power to make the punishment last long after a person's body has died.

 

 

The torment is unspeakable, beyond the worst pain the boy has ever felt, he is told. 

 

 

And yet, the boy is told, in spite of this misery and torment and punishment for wrong belief...

 

 

The aliens love us.

 

 

This love is an all-encompassing love, more powerful than any human love, say the wise men.

 

 

"But why," the boy asks, "if the aliens love us, do they punish us for all of time if we don't obey them or believe in them?"

 

 

The wise men quote the ancient writings: Because the aliens are jealous aliens, they say.

 

 

"But when I am jealous and angry and hurtful,” the boy says, “you tell me that this is not love. How is it love when the aliens do these things?”

 

 

This is indeed a mystery, the wise men say.

 

 

"And if they are so powerful, and if they love us so much, why do they allow us to suffer such misery and pain?"

 

 

This, too, is one of the great mysteries, the wise men say, and these mysteries are not ours to grasp. In due time, they say, the answers to these mysteries will all be revealed to us.

 

 

And until then, the wise men say, we must believe that the aliens love us.

 

 

And what is more, we must also love them back, with our whole hearts.

 

 

This is their command.

 

 

"They command us to love them?"

 

 

They do, the wise men say, pointing again to the ancient text.

 

 

"But that is not love."

 

 

It is a mystery, the wise men say.

 

 

The boy tries to hold these things in his head, but they do not fit.

 

 

The wise men say that he should not try to hold them in his head. He should hold them in his heart.

 

 

But they do not fit there, either.

 

 

Yet, even though the aliens cannot be seen, felt, or heard, the boy tries very hard to believe in the aliens.

 

 

"Can I ask the aliens to do something, so that I will know they are real?" the boy asks.

 

 

Definitely not, he is told, because it is very angering to the aliens to be tested in this impertinent way.

 

 

He is not to test the aliens, ever. 

 

 

He is just to believe.

 

 

And to love them with his whole self. He can hold nothing back from them.

 

 

These answers confuse the boy's mind and put a weight on his heart.

 

 

The boy becomes a man. In his life, he observes that true things tend to leave evidence of their truth. And the more true a thing is, the more evidence it leaves of its truth.

 

 

More evidence mounts as time passes, he observes, and it becomes possible to find the limits of a thing's truth. 

 

 

It might be true for many cases, but not all.

 

 

It might be true for some cases, but not most.

 

 

Or it might be true for all the cases that anyone has ever observed. Gravity is like this: always true.

 

 

But a question immediately comes to mind:

 

 

Gravity works... but by what mechanism?

 

 

No one seems to have an answer. The people who have studied gravity for their whole lives don't even believe they know how it works.

 

 

They can describe in minute detail the effects that gravity produces.

 

 

But these people cannot begin to describe how it achieves those effects.

 

 

Yet the man's parents believe they know how gravity works.

 

 

And what's more, they believe they know where it came from.

 

 

It came from the same source that everything came from, say the man's parents.

 

 

The heavens and the firmament.

 

 

The planets and the stars.

 

 

The atoms and the molecules.

 

 

The asteroids and the humanoids and the hemorrhoids.

 

 

They all came from the same source.

 

 

The One Source.

 

 

The source that the man has been told about for his entire life.

 

 

The aliens.

 

 

All that can be seen, felt, experienced... this is the work of the aliens.

 

 

The aliens, who love him dearly...

 

 

And who will torment him for eternity if he does not believe in them, or if he does not love them.

 

 

And yet, this mysterious answer is the source of all peace, the man's parents say, which is also what the wise men say.

 

 

But these kinds of answers give the man no peace.

 

 

In fact, he never finds peace.

 

 

Until one day.

 

 

For his entire life, he tried very hard to believe in the undetectable aliens who can listen to thoughts, create worlds, and punish men for eternity for a lack of belief.

 

 

But peace finally did come to the man...

 

 

When he stopped trying to love the aliens.

 

 

And when he stopped trying even to believe in the aliens.

 

 

And even though the man's parents became very sad and angry at the news that the man had given up his attempts to believe in the aliens...

 

 

This decision made the man's life infinitely better.

 

 

-----

 

 

This story probably doesn't seem controversial to you so far. 

 

 

But here's the twist.

 

 

Changing one word in this story turns it from a random story...

 

 

Into an autobiography.

 

 

Mine.

 

 

If you replace "aliens" with a different word,

 

 

Then this story becomes my story.

 

 

The word:

 

 

"Spirits."

 

 

And so when people ask me, as many of you have asked, whether or not I am religious...

 

 

Well, this story is my answer. 

 

 

-----

 

 

I know that some of you may think less of me now, while others may think more.

 

 

Either way, best wishes and goodwill.

 

 

Until next time, 

 

Lars

 

 

PS. If you enjoy thrillers and you're ready for something new to read, have a look here.

 

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