TALES OF THE RACE OF KA

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In a time long lost in the past, two ancient species began a relationship that would span the ages.

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One was a group of upright walking creatures from whom I myself am a descendant, and the others, the horned ones, were called the Aurochs. At the time, the two legged ones were learning to use tools of stone to kill and take from other animals that which they needed to sustain their own bodies, build their families, and develop the cunning that might make them the masters of the world.

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The four legged Aurochs were then a powerful race, huge in comparison to the humanoids whose own height was the measure of the width of an Auroch's chest. Their crushing weight was enough to kill one of these fragile creatures, trampling them under their four cloven feet. But more than their size and weight, their lyre shaped horns offered a deadly threat that made its way into their nightmares.

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The two legged ones saw the power of the Aurochs and feared it, respected it, and above all, coveted it. They intuitively perceived that beings as fragile as themselves needed to draw power from others to grow mightier. They used their stone tools to kill their horned brethren and they took their meat. They took their skin to clothe and warm themselves and painted the stories of their victories over the horned ones upon the cave walls.

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During the subsequent ages, both species were on the move, spreading throughout the world. The Aurochs were in search of pastures in which to graze. The Humans were in constant pursuit of the Aurochs.

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Nourished by the virile flesh of the horned race, mankind grew much stronger. Their minds, fed in this cannibalistic tryst, probed the mysteries of the world and the universe with an intelligence born from an usurpation of bovine power.

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Ages passed. While the imagination and will of the two legged race flourished, the fields of the Aurochs diminished in response to massive terrestrial shifts. The Aurochs themselves dwindled and changed shape. Their descendants became smaller and gentler. Responding to this development, the hunters of the horned race became their herders instead.

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Eventually the Auroch elders passed out of existence entirely leaving the future to their diminutive relatives, the docile species of Taurine and Zebu.

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The Gods and Goddesses were born of this marriage, the bloody and opportunistic union of two races.
The stories, the dreams. the lineage of mankind lies entwined with that of the conquered Bovines.

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Our first Gods were dreamed in their image. Gazing into the firelight supplicated by a feast of Taurine flesh, we dreamed up the names and exploits of our deities fashioned from the threads of our own experience. Soon, these tales would surpass their origins in grandeur.

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We gave life to Surabhi and Kamadhenu who gave life to us in the form of five sacred gifts: milk, curd, butter, to feed us, urine for healing balms, and manure to feed our fires.

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We revered Apis the bull, the embodiment of Ptah, an aspect of Osiris.

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We spun the tale of Amalthea, the goat who raised Zeus with the milk of her teat who in turn assumed the shape of the bull to seduce Europa and father the King of the Minoans whose step son would be the Minotaur.

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Even Yahweh, the God that would rise in the imaginations of men as a God to erase all others, began as one part of a trinity composed of the falcon, the bull, and the mother.

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Thus gratitude gave way to resentment. The God of the sky, himself born from the dreams of the men of earth fed by the life blood of the bovines, seduced the mind of man.

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The God of the Sky became the single blind ruler of an entire species. A jealous God, risen as the embodiment of the jealous heart of mankind, that would forget the root of its power.

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It is a god that still demands the sacrifice of the bovine descendants of the Aurochs, contributing to an unending flow of blood that reaches from our far off past into our present, from Abraham’s sacrifice of the ram on Mount Sinai to the factory farms that, at the time of this writing, imprison the impoverished descendants of the once great horned race.

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See them now, away from the sun, exiled from our sight, as we are all too glad to forget the race of Ka which carried us up from the mud and the wastelands.
Forget the horns, forget the power, forget the mud itself, for its nature can only stain our empty dreams of heaven.

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