In 1989 I published a collection of parables entitled The Furniture of Heaven. Now here’s a parable from a new book I’m working on.
A man went for a job interview with Death.
Death wore a stylish brown leather suit and sat behind an extremely long, broad, highly polished table with absolutely nothing on it.
Looking over the man’s resumé, Death observed, “I see you haven’t killed anyone?”
“Not directly, no.”
“Ah! I like that answer. You worked for a corporation, then?”
“Yes, I was CEO of Goliath Oil.”
“Well, well! Yes, I think we may have a place for you. What do you see yourself doing?”
“More of the same. Pulling wool over the public’s eyes. Bribing government. Ruining the environment. Gouging the poor.”
“Excellent, excellent. All very laudable talents. And what will you require for salary? As I’m sure you’re aware, money is of no use here.”
“Yes, I understand. What I want is a small share of the earth’s blood—maybe one percent? Delivered to me intravenously.”
“I see. Well, perhaps that can be arranged. Anything else?”
“Just the usual package of benefits: a few hundred hectares of rainforest, some bolts of blue sky, a generous helping of clean water—Lake Superior, maybe?”
“Superior is spoken for, I’m afraid. In fact, we have no clean water left.”
“Ah! That’s good, I suppose. Then give me the skins of ten thousand lackeys and laborers. That will do.”
“Deal.”
Leaning forward in his wingback chair, Death picked his teeth with a splinter of bone.
“We’ve had a lot of your kind apply lately,” he said. “It’s very encouraging. For the first time in history we’re looking at accomplishing the deaths not just of individuals or populations, but of the whole planet.”
“My goal precisely. Why kill people one by one when you can rip the rug right out from under the entire race?”
“Well said! Just between you and me, what do you think the prospects are for total destruction by the end of this century?”
“Looking good, sir. I’d say we’re right on track. There’s only one problem …”
Death looked up from filing his nails on a shinbone. “What’s that?”
“Well, if we succeed in doing away with all the people and animals and plants—I mean, at that point, who will be left for us to kill?”
Death became very still.
“Hm. I see your point. How, then, do you suggest we proceed?”
“There’s only one thing to do, sir: Diversify. We’ll need to adjust our business model away from mere killing.”
“What then?”
“Torture. We’ll boil, flay, rack, and torment everybody down here forever and ever.”
Death broke into a broad toothless smile.
“Say, you’re my kind of man! Welcome to the team.”
(AI generated image)
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