(Translated from the Arabic by putting elders into a blender and pouring the resulting puree onto the heads of those at the Madrasa.)
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From the First Book of Hindl (NOT Hindi) Testamentum Novus (revised)
Time to get out your Codex Impelus and Lexicon.
When the countries of the Middle East were being divided up by the rich and powerful, many angry words were spoken. The wise and learned debated borders and governance, but came to no agreeable conclusions.
One member of this prominent estate of men was Mahna Mahna - Slayer of Stones, brother of Mahatma-Grady - Lord Protector of the Indias and Man-God of the Nibbly Piblixx.
Mahna Mahna rose in anger, screaming at the holy men ‑
"Ye vacillating fundaments! Who shall stand today and blaspheme that venerate endowment of God? Upon my soul, does no one hold His objects in reverent esteem? You (Mahna Mahna pojnted at one of the Imams), does thy heart not fairly sing at His art? Why do your followers destroy the beauty of things created by the children of God? The things He instructed His children to build!”
Then, he turned to the governors.
“My Lords, why do ye worship the musketoon and Skiver? Wouldst thy brave words and promises stand before its thunder and damn its might? Ye are like sheep before them!”
Finally, Mahna Mahna waved his hand over all assembled.
“Ye know only ignorance! In a thousand skirmishes, love rose to oppugn those who wouldst turn back this land's great history and plunge it back into the sands! Only a simpleton condemns that which he does not understand! You, my corpulent Lords, wouldst contrive to exile love into history's false judgements! "
He concluded by saying, “E'en now, your evil toils. Its damnation from the tongues of fools!"
The assembled sat silent. Their shame filling every dark space.
Mahna Mahna concluded ‑
"Should ye care so little that ye wouldst choose to scatter love into nothing, I wouldst remind ye ‑ 'twas before, and it remains still – the successful end to man's struggles. Nay, not lustrous or beauteous, a midge perhaps, to thee, my gathered legates. But pray, ask the provincials of its might. And hope that they do not rise up and smite ye down in the name of the thing you revile! Ye have no comprehension of the history!"
Then he drove a sandalwood spear through a holy man and all feasted upon his earthly remains.
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From the First Book of Hindl (NOT Hindi) Testamentum Novus (revised)
Time to get out your Codex Impelus and Lexicon.
When the countries of the Middle East were being divided up by the rich and powerful, many angry words were spoken. The wise and learned debated borders and governance, but came to no agreeable conclusions.
One member of this prominent estate of men was Mahna Mahna - Slayer of Stones, brother of Mahatma-Grady - Lord Protector of the Indias and Man-God of the Nibbly Piblixx.
Mahna Mahna rose in anger, screaming at the holy men ‑
"Ye vacillating fundaments! Who shall stand today and blaspheme that venerate endowment of God? Upon my soul, does no one hold His objects in reverent esteem? You (Mahna Mahna pojnted at one of the Imams), does thy heart not fairly sing at His art? Why do your followers destroy the beauty of things created by the children of God? The things He instructed His children to build!”
Then, he turned to the governors.
“My Lords, why do ye worship the musketoon and Skiver? Wouldst thy brave words and promises stand before its thunder and damn its might? Ye are like sheep before them!”
Finally, Mahna Mahna waved his hand over all assembled.
“Ye know only ignorance! In a thousand skirmishes, love rose to oppugn those who wouldst turn back this land's great history and plunge it back into the sands! Only a simpleton condemns that which he does not understand! You, my corpulent Lords, wouldst contrive to exile love into history's false judgements! "
He concluded by saying, “E'en now, your evil toils. Its damnation from the tongues of fools!"
The assembled sat silent. Their shame filling every dark space.
Mahna Mahna concluded ‑
"Should ye care so little that ye wouldst choose to scatter love into nothing, I wouldst remind ye ‑ 'twas before, and it remains still – the successful end to man's struggles. Nay, not lustrous or beauteous, a midge perhaps, to thee, my gathered legates. But pray, ask the provincials of its might. And hope that they do not rise up and smite ye down in the name of the thing you revile! Ye have no comprehension of the history!"
Then he drove a sandalwood spear through a holy man and all feasted upon his earthly remains.
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