THE MASTER DEPARTS

the old man ... a child of that rebellious and seminal decade in our nation's history ... now these many years later on the edge of his death ... said there were three things he could remember of his time on earth and they were each a part of our broken reflection of god ... the first was sex a mimicry a parrotry of creative power ... the second was war our ancient right to claim morality ... and the third a distant third his people's love of knowledge ... after we buried him and went our separate ways I retired to dinner and a coffee by the table in remembrance of my old friend ... in age he had become if not bitter a bit sardonic ... that part about sex being a cheap imitation rather than a participation in the creative power for example ... I knew he didn't really mean that ... and for him a practical pacifist a perennial professional civilian to give war a claim to morality ... well what was that but moral cowardice ... unless we could say here as well he was being ironic ... the real spirit of my dead friend was revealed only in what he said last ... for he was always a patron of books ... my dead scholar friend yufoolio