Once upon a time, a poor oil and gas priest named loman miller, was out drinking with his Bilderberger buddies. They were all depressed that their oil supplies were running dry while consumption was increasing beyond the 30 billion barrels we now consume, and the last remaining source of oil available to maintain civilisation as know it is the tar sands. One by one they all got to bragging about their children, and loman, who was so proud of his daughter Jeannie, bragged that his daughter had invented a way to turn tar sand into oil that uses less than the 1 barrel of oil needed to produce 3 barrels now. Nothing can be done about the 6 tons of sand, or the 6 to 12 barrels of water needed to make those 3 barrels of oil though.
One of his friends or enemies told the president, who had Jeannie quietly and efficiently kidnapped by HomeLand Security on grounds of national security and had her put in a top security facility with all the latest equipment put at her disposal - for her "safety."
The president came to visit her, "turn this tar sand in to oil for the good of the nation in 30 days, or your father could be executed as an enemy of the state." The president continued to mock her, "Of course if you succeed I would be happy to ask your father for your hand in marriage," she was told with a sneer.
First one week passed, then two weeks passed. The third week passed. A few more days flew by, till it was the night before - and still she couldn't turn tar sand into oil.
Her whole body shaking, she know that her father was going to die.
Then from out of nowhere a small little man with wings appeared. He looked her up and down and said - 'what will you give me if I turn this tar sand into oil?'
Jeannie said 'I have nothing to give you.'
'Give me that gold necklace around your neck,' the little man told her.
'But that was my mother's necklace. It is all I have to remember her by. Please don't ask for that,' Jeannie pleaded.
'What good is the necklace if can't save your life? Do you think the HomeLand Security executioner will not slip it from your neck after he shoots you in the back of the head? Would your mother want you to keep the necklace and lose your life instead?' asked the the little man.
'What if you run away after I give you the necklace?' she asked.
He gripped her neck with surprising speed and strength - 'I could take it now,' he said and then let go.
'Take it then,' she said slipping it over her head.
He put the necklace around his neck, told her to go to sleep and set to work configuring the equipment, programming the computers, feeding the tar sand into the DNA sequencers, and as he worked he began to sing the oil song (1). And the lullaby, the sound of the spinning separators and the hypnotic pumping of the vacuums soon put Jeannie to sleep.
The dawn broke, and the president came and saw that the tar sand had been turned into oil.
"A fluke. It could happen to anyone. Put this into my oil bank, and move her in to a larger facility. This time give her more tar sand!" The president turned to Jeannie, "turn this tar sand in to oil for the good of the nation in 30 days, or your father could be tortured and executed as an enemy of the state. Your not getting away that easily. You will need to do it again. I don't know how you did what you did, but you won't be able to do it a second time!"
First one week passed, then two weeks passed. The third week passed. A few more days flew by, till it was once again the night before - and still she had nothing done.
She wondered if the little man would appear like he had last time and what she could give him this time. Perhaps it had been nothing more than a dream. But her hand reached for where her necklace had been and came away empty.
From out of nowhere the same little man appeared. He looked her up and down and said - 'what will you give me this time if I turn this tar sand into oil?'
Jeannie said 'I have nothing to give you.'
He said 'Give me that gold ring on your finger.'
'But that was my mother's wedding ring. Don't ask for that,' Jeannie pleaded.
'What good is the ring if can't save your life? Do you think the HomeLand Security executioner will not slip it from your finger after he shoots you in the back of the head? Would your mother want you to keep the ring and lose your life instead?' asked the the little man.
'What if you run away after I give you the ring?' she asked.
He gripped her hand with surprising speed and strength - 'I can take it now, just like I could have taken the necklace last night. And I didn't run away last night did I?' and then let go.
'Take it then,' she said slipping it off her finger.
He put the ring on the necklace around his neck, told her to go to sleep and set to work configuring the equipment, programming the computers, feeding the tar sand into the DNA sequencers, and once again he began to sing the oil song. And the lullaby, the sound of the spinning separators and the hypnotic pumping of the vacuums soon put Jeannie to sleep for a second time.
The dawn broke, and the president came and saw that even more tar sand had been turned into oil.
"Put this into my oil bank. Now move her in to the largest hangar we have and this time make sure you give her all the tar sand you've got!"
Just like every other time she was told "turn this tar sand in to oil for the good of the nation in 30 days, or your father could be brainwashed, tortured and executed as an enemy of the state."
First one week passed, then two weeks passed. The third week passed. A few more days flew by, till it was the night before - and still she hadn't been able to turn tar sand into oil.
So she busied herself configuring the equipment, programming the computers, feeding the tar sand into the DNA sequencers. She couldn't give up. But nothing was working. The tar sand was being turned in to mud.
Something was missing, but what?
She's seen tar sand turned into oil twice - she knew it was possible. but she just couldn't make it work. there were too many combinations. she couldn't figure it out.
for millions of years my ancestors have survived disasters, jeannie thought to herself, she could survive this small disaster. not an ice age. not a meteor. not a solar flare. not a disease or a volcano or a tsunami. just converting tar sand into oil. just a few more tweaks and she'd have it. but it's impossible. its too far away.
jeannie, too exhausted to cry slides her back down the side of the machine and puts her head in her arms.
She wondered if the little man would appear like he had last time and what she could give him this time. Perhaps it had been nothing more than a dream. But her hand reached for where her ring had been and came away empty. She knew she had nothing to give him this time. She hoped he would come and save her and her father, and at the same the time she hoped he wouldn't come because she had nothing left to give him and her father would die.
As she was starting to go to sleep a familiar voice says to her 'what will you give me this time, if I turn all this tar sand into oil?'
'I have nothing left. You have taken everything, I have nothing left to give, go away and leave me alone.' she said.
He looks her in the eye and says 'Give me your first child.'
'I couldn't do that. I will not do that. I would rather die than give you my child. What kind of mother would sell her child's life to save her own? Have mercy.' Jeannie pleaded.
'Who knows,' the little man says, 'maybe you will never have a child, what harm can come of it? Anyway you are going to die if you don't give me a child. At least if you give me a child - you will have had a child - a child to pass on your destiny - and your child may have a chance at a better life than you. How can you deny that child their chance at fighting inequality?' said the little man.
'What if I run away after I give birth?' she asked.
'I will hunt you down and kill you, I will kill your child, I will kill every last one of your family, I will kill your friends, and I will kill everyone who ever knew you, until every last memory of you is gone.' he says.
'Take it then,' she said, 'if i have i child it will be yours.'
'When the child is three years old I will come to claim it as my right.'
He then told her to go to sleep and set to work configuring the equipment, programming the computers, feeding the tar sand into the DNA sequencers, and he began to sing the oil song. And soon the lullaby, the sound of the spinning separators and the hypnotic pumping of the vacuums soon made Jeannie sleepy. But this time she was ready, and she stayed awake and remembered everything, and finally at long last all the machine was done.
The dawn broke, and the president came and saw that all the tar sand had been turned into oil.
"Good. Put this into my oil bank. Now you will marry me."
Within the year, the president and jeannie had married and a beautiful baby boy was born.
Remembering her promise to the little man, she tripled spending on white house security, and created a new elite team within HomeLand Security to protect the child.
The team trained day and night for 3 years. At all times 5 units had the child in their site, and 25 others were constantly monitoring the situation.
One the eve of the child's first birthday, the first lady called in the army and national guard. she felt safe. the day was almost over and nothing had happened to her or her baby.
then suddenly her 5 agents dropped down dead and the little man appeared and said "Lady, I have come for the child."
But she refused, begged for mercy, and finally threatened to kill the child and herself rather than have the child taken from her.
"I will have mercy on you, with one condition - you have 3 days to guess my name."
Immediately Jeannie dispatched HomeLand Security and the NSA out looking for clues, hints and threads.
The next day the little man came and she guessed. But every guess was wrong...
So then Jeannie deployed the CIA and the FBI to help the HomeLanders and the NSA, increasing the bounty placed on the information leading to locating the little man's name.
The next day the little man came again and again she guessed. Again every guess was wrong...
So then Jeannie deployed the Army, the Navy and the Air Force, doubling the bounty placed on the information leading to locating the little man and eliminate him.
And finally, improbably, because this is a story, one of her security teams was able to locate the missing link and find out his name.
The little man pranced in, eager to collect his child when she bent down and whispered his name.
His fury was so great at hearing her say his name, that he exploded, sending his shattered remains flying through the room.
The End.
copyright 2007 - 2008
joshua scott paul
1 - the oil song
copyright 2007 - 2008
joshua scott paul
the world is dying
and i am crying
because i don't
know what to do
it's not my problem
i didn't do it
it's not because me
the world is dead
we have to make the factory owners
drink the water from their plants
we have to make the car owners
breathe the air for their tail pipes
we can fix it
we can do it
all we have to do
is believe we can
