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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