Once there was a man who was marooned on a small island. All alone. Everyday, all day long he would scan the horizon for rescue ships. But to no avail. Eventually he surrendered to the idea that he would spend the remainder of his life in that lonely hell-on-Earth. He prayed to God for rescue, but no ship ever came. Yet he still had faith. So, he built an abode to protect him from the elements. And little by little over time, his humble shack was stocked with food, water (which was scarce) and a few valuable items that had washed ashore from his ship. Months passed. Then a year. Slowly the man had turned his shack into a home. A true refuge. There he felt safe. He kept his sanity by detailing his dreams, and misfortunes in a diary which miraculously had survived (along with a supply of pencils) his hours in the sea. He also had two books. The Bible and a copy of the sonnets of Shakespeare. Oh, how his spirits soared the day he found these two books in a case of other waterlogged and destroyed books. Somehow, the case has washed ashore. Every book was destroyed except these two which, for some reason, has been wrapped completely in wax paper. In addition to this, he had a photograph of a woman. He did not know who it was. No doubt, the daughter, wife or sister of one of the ill-fated passengers. But she was beautiful. He named her Cassandra. To him she was as real as if she was flesh and blood. Over time, she became his companion. Also there were his tools. A length of good rope, without which he could never reach the fresh water stream which dripped from a crack in the upper reaches of the cliffs overlooking the north shoreline. He'd fasted the rope to a tree and repel down and utilize another prize possession. His bucket. Somehow this old wooden bucket had come ashore. With it he was able to get an ample supply of good fresh water. Without it, he would be forced to wait for rainfall to drink. With the bucket and rope, he was able to have the one luxury that he enjoyed. Fresh cold water. Also among his valuable tools was a section of saw. With this piece of saw he was able to cut palm fronds for his roof. Cut wood for his fire, and butcher the sea turtles which were in good supply. Everyday he begged God to send a rescue ship. He would dream of rescue. But always, he would wake up. Alone and lost. But, he reasoned, at least he had shelter in his primitive abode. One day as he was exploring the far side of the island in hopes of finding an easier water source, he suddenly he noticed a great column of smoke rising above the cliffs. In a second he realized it was coming from the north shore area. Where his dwelling was. His heart was throbbing wildly in his chest as he raced back to his shack. "Did I not extinguish my cooking fire?" he asked himself. As he came around the edge of trees his worst fears layed before him. What a sight to behold. His shack was engulfed in flames. Gone were his tools, his beloved books, Cassandra, and his diary. Everything was gone. He fell to his knees and begged God to answer him... "Why?" His sobbing continued unabated until finally he fell asleep from total exhaustion. His dreams were filled with visions of rescue, home and happiness. Just then a noise woke him from his dream. Looking up he saw out in the bay... a great ship. Nearly to land was a small boat with a detachment of men. Was this too a dream? It wasn't. It was real. The men picked up the poor unfortunate and bore his sad frame to the boat and returned to the ship, where the man was given water and food. Still he wondered... is it a dream? Soon the captain came in. "How are you?" the captain asked. "I am fine now. Thank you sir. Please... won't you tell me... how did you find me there in that place?" "Oh sir", replied the captain "We saw the smoke from your signal fire of course."
Good story! Here's another: A man, who had been a bit of a rogue, one morning woke up in a beautiful house in a beautiful park. He had servant at his disposal, and, as he soon found out, anything he asked for was immediately granted. He could have wonderful meals, wine, parties, women, music etc... and no matter how wild a party had been, the house would be spotless the next morning and he would wake up, fit as a fiddle, with no trace of a hangover. He enjoyed himself thoroughly, but after some time, he became restless. The parties bored him, and the women seemed all alike. He thought about this for some time, and finally it dawned upon him what he was missing. He called his good servant and said: - I want to try something new! I want to do some work, I want a woman who won't just do everything I ask of her! I want some challenge! - Well sir, - said the servant, - I'm afraid that is impossible! All those things mean problems, and you are not allowed to have any problems here! - - But then, - cried the man, - ... I might as well be in hell! - - Well sir, - said the servant, - but where do you think you are?? - Hans
Tom Hanks What's really funny about the story is that a version of it occurs in a godawful Zemeckis film starring Tom Hanks: Cast Away, I believe, was the title. The basic premise is familiar to everyone? 5-minute Fed-Ex ad, then a 2-minute Fed-Ex ad, and then another 5-minute Fed-Ex ad before Tom Hanks finds himself swimming with corpses and eventually marooned on the island. Among the rescued treasures of the downed cargo plane is a Wilson® volleyball, appropriately named Wilson. What's great is that when you watch the scene where he's rescued, Zemeckis really botches the cut, but seemingly it is intentional. Hanks loses his volleyball while madly drifting at sea, but in the same second, a cargo ship passes. Now, perhaps there was a period implied to have passed between one event and the next, but as it was cut, it was a pretty one-two combination. I found a number of interesting "morals" to the story: • Salvation comes with the death of God (this was an instant notion) •_One must lose what one has in one world before entering another--you can't take it with you, as such. How would it look if he arrived in civilization stark bonkers and talking to a volleyball? • Like I said, it's a version of the story. To draw a moral parallel, I would say that Hanks' actions while sailing the raft into open sea, accounting essentially for himself and another person, logistically allowed him to survive. Perhaps he brought extra provisions (not clear how anthropomorphized Wilson became). Perhaps he sailed different tacks (tacking on that raft?) or took the swells and crests of storm differently than if he had been on his own. Funny, that. It was a terrible movie that should never have been made. (Hanks has had a couple of those recently.) But that's the thing; even bad art has something to teach. thanx, Tiassa Please Register or Log in to view the hidden image!
