Humba-Jumba Necessity

 

 

 

   In a corner of the universe there was a galaxy, a bright and beautiful galaxy, and in this galaxy there was a solar system with a single planet. The planet was a beautiful spinning sphere, with an average temperature of seven times the boiling point of water. It was inhabited by a race of living beings called humba.

   The humba's civilization was based on matter. Its material building blocks were elementary subatomic particles. The humbas and their civilization developed in accordance with the laws of nature. They were governed by the categories of time and space. They unerringly obeyed the principle of cause and effect. Thus, they were programmed and determined.  But these creatures were not aware of such programming, because they were infused with motives. The motives were felt as desires, and resulted in passionate action. The humba was a sentient, rational being, capable of compassion and love.

   In a corner of the beautiful planet there was a humba being named Cohentis. It was working in the plain of pain, the hooks on its mechanical limbs squeezing, turning, releasing. "Oh, it's hot today," Cohentis said. "I really need some himba-imba." With its three great jointed levers it lifted itself from the spongy surface, jerked forward, and made its way to the himba oasis. Drawing up to the bubbling pool, it lowered its frontal appendage into the himba, and began to suck fervently. The gray goo liquid was sucked up into its appendage, swishing and spluttering. For the first few seconds only, Cohentis was happy, gloriously and deliriously happy, but then it became aware of the thoughts that were circulating in its mind. 'Oh, how great, how great I am,' it thought as it sucked.

   'Strange,' Cohentis mused, 'What does my greatness have to do with this himba?' The pleasure evaporated instantly when Cohentis ceased to contemplate its greatness. It was only when he entertained fantasies about his greatness that the himba tasted so good. This was the only way it could enjoy the himba. 'Why is this so?' it wondered. 'What is so special about what I am doing? Everyone drinks the himba.' Reflecting on this, Cohentis was miserable. But it soon submerged again into the pleasure of the himba, and as the enjoyment returned, so did the thought, 'Oh, how wonderful I am.'

   As its thirst was quenched, Cohentis noticed another thought passing through its mind: desire for another humba being. And it wondered: 'Why is it that I'm irresistibly attracted to every hissing jimba-jumba with purple hair? All day long in the hivy-ivy, I'm confronted with one after another. There is never any rest. Where is there peace?'

   Just then Cohentis noticed a fleeting image reflected on the himba pool, and, rotating its eye, saw that Elensis was lumbering by. Instantaneously Cohentis lost all interest in the himba. It self-consciously washed its nether parts with its multi-jointed hook, and brushed its hairy fungiles into place. It then headed towards Elensis, who had turned towards it. As they approached each other they moved faster and faster. The levers and wheels turned, they clicked and hummed. Hydraulic lines went off, one after the other, in a syncopated rhythm. Elensis was swaying forward with a wild look in its eye. They were flying straight towards each other. They met, crashing, holding tight with their three appendages, twirling each other around. Metal struts struck each other. Sparks flew, flames grew.

            Hajumba, hajimba,       

            Let's make this match athinga.

            I love the magic mimba,

            That mystic mortal mimba.       

   For the first instant of their embrace, the sensation was beautiful. It was connection. It was romance. Cohentis was gloriously and deliriously happy. But it watched as the wheels turned in its mind. 'How desirable this jimba-jumba is,' it thought.  'And how great I am to be the one that is embracing it.' This idea went hook in hook with the pleasure of the mimba. As soon as the thought about greatness stopped, the pleasure stopped. The two separate things were intrinsically linked.

   As Cohentis caressed Elensis, it mused on these thoughts. Why was it created in a way that made it glorify itself every time it got close to something or someone? Was it programmed to respond in this way? Furthermore, what made it instantly dissatisfied when it reached its object, set in motion in the search of something new? Just before sleep Cohentis had to think, 'Oh, how great I am.' If it did not do so, it could not fall asleep. Each time it looked at another humba being, it had to think, 'I wonder what I can gain from this object?' This ceaseless activity of self-glorification was its first and last sentiment each day. It was the origin and the end of its life. 'Yes, my ego is fixed at every point of space and time,' Cohentis thought. 'I am a miserable creature.'

   Elensis must have sensed the struggle going on within Cohentis, because it drew back, shaking its solenoid and putting its transmission into reverse in order to drive away the rapture. It looked up compassionately. "You are never at rest, dear," Elensis said. "You are always in motion. You are not at peace."

   "Labibba, labubba," Cohentis said. "The mimba is great, but I really gotta go, gotta mo-jo."

   Elensis looked curiously at Cohentis. "Don't you realize that we get two credits for each mimba? Two permanent marks that go down in the book of life?"

   "Sometimes I think that a mad computer scientist wrote the book of life," Cohentis responded. "The rapture of the mimba is powerful, but it is also a kind of hypnosis. Is it something that I chose freely, or is it chosen for me? And how can I know the difference? Can I stand on my own three pods, without any support? What would it take?"

   "You're circuits are overheating," Elensis said. "In order to be free of the life-book, all influences would have to be overcome. It would mean annulling the principle of cause and effect. That's impossible. You must learn to relax, and enjoy the great gift of living here on this planet. The mimba is wonderful. We should do whatever it takes to get the two credits." Hissing seductively, antennas undulating, Elensis leaned forward. Their struts struck each other.

   Cohentis tried to relax, but found that it was pumping in short, irrational gasps. The wheels in its mind were already spinning. Its nobule head was heavy, confused. The pressure was building. "Labibba, labubba, Elensis, I really gotta go, gotta mo-jo, gotta he-haw, gotta la la la. This is too much for me. What I really want is the jumba. Just the jumba." And, having thought this, it was unable to think of anything else. It pulled away from Elensis. "I'm sorry,'' it said.

   Elensis rattled its grasping mechanism. "You are so easily obsessed," it said. "And so easily satiated. I thought you wanted to be free."

   Turning away, Cohentis set off, hopping and bumping full speed forward. It bypassed the pond of fond, the trees of ease. When it reached the summit of the hill of ill the sun was already setting. The air was cool, just six times the boiling point of water. The moons were great white circles pouring light onto the land. Cohentis' mind also was full, pouring forth fantasies. Below, it could see hundreds of humbas pressed together, and it could hear the beating of the thumba.

   Cohentis scampered down the hill. It stepped onto the bubbling hoo-joo gas, and was engulfed by a humba tide. Nether appendages lifted high, antennas raised, each hob-joint stretched out to its tautest length, the humba beings coalesced into a single entity. As they moved, their suckers sucked up the goo and sprayed it into the air. Cohentis was assimilated into the crazy rhythm. It twirled and whirled, swooped and swooned, swept up in the mesmerizing, frenzied, intoxicating dance.

            Humba-mumba,

            The gleeful, lethal jumba.

            I love the thumping thumba,

            That jiving jaunty jumba.

   For the first few seconds, Cohentis was happy, gloriously and deliriously happy, but then it became aware of the thoughts that were cruising through its mind. Unbeknownst to itself, it had been reciting the words, 'How wonderful this jumba is. And how great I am to be an integral part of it. Oh, how great I am.' This enlargement of his own ego was painful. It was like blowing into a ho-jo: unless one constantly breathes into it, it deflates.

   When it realized this, Cohentis was deflated, driven asunder from the jumba, its self-serving thoughts ground to a full stop. Its self-glorification was fully revealed, an obscenely flaunting and false immodesty. It stood in the midst of the throbbing mass, ashamed and exposed. Isolated in that massive movement of unity, it was an alien being.

   Cohentis stumbled towards the edge of the crowd, and then moved towards a group of titanium trees, falling back against a tree trunk. 'I am alone, utterly alone,' Cohentis said to itself. 'I am totally separate, isolated, tortured by desire, passion, love, and hope.'

   Cohentis stood still, absolutely still. Its flywheel, set in motion at birth, endlessly turning round and round, slowed. A screw stripped, a spring popped. It clicked, once, twice, thrice, and came to a stop. Its thought processes were mutating, transforming. They switched, rotated, shifted. The endlessly repeating mantra fell silent. It did not contemplate its greatness. It did not fall back into ego or rapture.

   Cohentis listened to the rhythmic chanting and beating, but was not engulfed by it. The programmed response was deactivated. The principle of cause and effect was annulled. There was a strange openness to something different.  'What is this?' Cohentis wondered. 'I have never felt like this before. It is totally new.' It brushed back the tinkling metallic leaves, watching the thumping natural ecstasy of the jumba. Unaffected, it shook its nobule head, and emerged from the titanium grove.

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