«The code says, “Thou shalt not covet they neighbor's wife.” The result? Reluctant chastity, adultery, jealousy, bitterness, blows and sometimes murder, broken homes and twisted chil dren — and furtive little passes degrading to woman and man. Is this Commandment ever obeyed? If a man swore on his own Bible that he refrained from coveting his neighbor's wife because the code forbade it, I would suspect either self-deception or subnormal sexuality. Any male virile enough to sire a child has coveted many women, whether he acts or not.
«Now comes Mike and says: “There is no need to covet my wife …love her! There's no limit to her love, we have everything to gain — and nothing to lose but fear and guilt and hatred and jealousy.” The proposition is incredible. So far as I recall only pre-civilization Eskimos were this naive — and they were so isolated that they were almost “Men from Mars” themselves. But we gave them our “virtues” and now they have chastity and adultery just like the rest of us. Ben, what did they gain?»
«I wouldn't care to be an Eskimo.»
«Nor I. Spoiled fish makes me bilious.»
«I had in mind soap and water. I guess I'm effete.»
«Me, too, Ben. I was born in a house with no more plumbing than an igloo; I prefer the present. Nevertheless Eskimos were invariably described as the happiest people on Earth. Any unhappiness they suffered was not through jealousy; they didn't have a word for it. They borrowed spouses for convenience and fun — it did not make them unhappy. So who's looney? Look at this glum world around you, then tell me: Did Mike's disciples seem happier, or unhappier, then other people?»
«I didn't talk to them all, Jubal. But — yes, they're happy. So happy they seem slap-happy. There's a catch in it somewhere.»
«Maybe you were the catch.»
«How?»
«It's a pity your tastes canalized so young. Even three days of what you were offered would be something to treasure when you reach my age. And you, you young idiot, let jealousy chase you away! At your age I would have gone Eskimo — why, I'm so vicariously vexed that my only consolation is the sour certainty that you will regret it. Age does not bring wisdom, Ben, but it does give perspective … and the saddest sight of all is to see, far behind you, temptations you've resisted. I have such regrets — but nothing to the whopper you will suffer! »
«Quit rubbing it in!»
«Heavens, man! — or are you a mouse? — I'm trying to goad you. Why are you moaning to an old man? When you should be heading for the Nest like a homing pigeon! Hell, if I were even twenty years younger, I'd join Mike's church myself.»
«Lay off, Jubal. What do you really think of Mike's church?
«You said it was just a discipline.»
«Yes and no. It is supposed to be “Truth” with a Capital “T” as Mike got it from the Martian “Old Ones”. »
«The “Old Ones”, eh? To me, they're hogwash.»
«Mike believes in them.»
«Ben, I once knew a manufacturer who believed that he consulted the ghost of Alexander Hamilton. However — Damn it, why must I be the Devil's advocate?»
«What's biting you now?»
«Ben, the foulest sinner of all is the hypocrite who makes a racket of religion. But we must give the Devil his due. Mike does believe and he's teaching the truth as he sees it. As for his “Old Ones”, I don't know that they don't exist; I simply find the idea hard to swallow. As for his Thou-Art-God creed, it is neither more nor less credible than any other. Come Judgment Day, if they hold it, we may find that Mumbo Jumbo the God of the Congo was Big Boss all along.»
«Oh, for Heaven's sake, Jubal!»
«All names belong in the hat, Ben. Man is so built that he cannot imagine his own death. This leads to endless invention of religions. While this conviction by no means proves immortality to be a fact, questions generated by it are overwhelmingly important. The nature of life, how ego hooks into the body, the problem of ego itself and why each ego seems to be the center of the universe, the purpose of life, the purpose of the universe — these are paramount questions, Ben; they can never be trivial. Science hasn't solved them — and who am I to sneer at religions for trying, no matter how unconvincingly to me? Old Mumbo Jumbo may eat me yet; I can't rule him out because he owns no fancy cathedrals. Nor can I rule out one godstruck boy leading a sex cult in an upholstered attic; he might be the Messiah. The only religious opinion I feel sure of is this: self-awareness is not just a bunch of amino acids bumping together!»
«Whew: Jubal, you should have been a preacher.»
«Missed it by luck. If Mike can show us a better way to run this fouled-up planet, his sex life needs no vindication. Geniuses are justifiably contemptuous of lesser opinion and are always indifferent to sexual customs of the tribe; they make their own rules. Mike is a genius. So he ignores Mrs. Grundy and diddles to suit himself.
«But from a theological standpoint Mike's sexual behavior is as orthodox as Santa Claus. He preaches that all living creatures are collectively God … which makes Mike and his disciples the only self-aware gods on this planet … which rates him a union card by all the rules for godding. Those rules always permit gods sexual freedom limited only by their own judgment.
«You want proof? Leda and the Swan? Europa and the Bull? Osiris, Isis, and Horus? The incredible incests of the Norse gods? I won't cite eastern religions; their gods do things that a mink breeder wouldn't tolerate. But look at the relations of the Trinity-in-One of the most widely respected western religion. The only way that religion's precepts can be reconciled with the interrelations of what purports to be a monotheos is by concluding that breeding rules for deity are not the rules for mortals. But most people never think about it; they seal it off and mark it: “Holy — Do Not Disturb”.
«One must allow Mike any dispensation granted other gods. One god alone splits into at least two parts, and breeds, not just Jehovah — they all do. A group of gods will breed like rabbits, and with as little regard for human proprieties. Once Mike entered the godding business, orgies were as predictable as sunrise — so forget the standards of Podunk and judge them by Olympian morals.»
Jubal glowered. «Ben, to understand this, you must start by conceding their sincerity.»
«Oh, I do! It's just that — »
«Doyou?You start by assuming that they must be wrong, judging them by that very code you reject. Try logic instead. Ben, this “growing-closer” by sexual union, this plurality-into-unity, logically has no place for monogamy. Since shared-by-all sexual congress is basic to this creed — a fact that your account makes crystal clear — why expect it to be hidden? One hides what one is ashamed of — but they are not ashamed, they glory in it. To duck behind closed doors would be a sop to the very code they have rejected… or it would shout aloud that you were an outsider who should never have been admitted in the first place.»
«Maybe I shouldn't have been.»
«Obviously you shouldn't have been. Mike clearly had misgivings. But Gillian insisted. Eh?»
«That only makes it worse!»
«How? She wanted you to be one of them “in all fullness”, as Mike would say. She loves you — and is not jealous of you. But you are jealous of her — and, while you claim to love her, your behavior doesn't show it.»
«Damn it, I do love her!»
«So? As may be, you clearly did not understand the Olympian honor you were being offered.»
«I guess I didn't,» Ben conceded glumly.
«I'm going to offer you a way out. You wondered how Mike got rid of his clothes. I'll tell you.»
«How?»
«A miracle.»
«Oh, for God's sake!»
«Could be. One thousand dollars says it was a miracle. Go ask Mike. Get him to show you. Then send me the money.»