1

THE RAMPANT DOG

2
 In memory of my earthly Parents and those of Heaven in whom I recognize
all what I am. Dedicated to my “Amicus Potens” Nicolás González Parazza, and
to my friend Dina Lloveras de Uriburu who always encouraged me to be
constant with cultivation of Arts and refinement of spirit, and to Eliú Elisabeth
and Rosa Noelfa, my daughters.
I thank them all for making me comprehend, in different ways, the reasons to
publish this book.

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 PRELIMINARY WORDS

The Universe is thought of God. We mortals have been made in His own
image and likeness. That is why God granted us the Gift for Creative Thinking.
From there comes the power mankind has to craf twhether its own dark dead end,
or a different one, raising itself on a path full of light, harmony and prosperity.
The first story, “The Rampant Dog’s Chronicles” tells us a man’s reflections.
At the beginning he cannot make out the difference between causes and effects,
because he believes that the thinking dogs are to blame for every suffering of the
Human Race. Gradually, he discovers that it works the other way around. Going
back with true heart on his own steps, he realizes that the Dog’s Evolution was not
the reason why Humanity degraded, but the thoughts, deeds, habits and
particularities of their own people. Eventually –too late, though- he learns that his
contemporaries’ negative traits are the reflecting mirror of his own thoughts, deeds,
habits and particularities.
Mario Vargas Llosa states that future does not exist, it is nothing but a wide
shade of endless possibilities and courses of action we can choose from. One of
them, why not, is to leave all our darkness and sorrows be just a nightmare, an
insane fiction of literature. Let this story’s pungent and tragic end perish when you
close this book.
Our fate can be changed by a consciousness awakening, then choosing a more
positive way to go. That will be possible only when we establish and individual
practice of noble virtues such as wisdom, patience, faith, benevolence and justice in
our very thoughts and hearts. Our Nation’s destiny will straighten up as long as
most of our people are aware of each one’s individual responsibility on this matter.
When walking along this bright path, we will finally understand that rules (positive
law) are not a resource meant to satisfy our whimsy desires, but a handy tool which
can help us to live together a better life. When that day comes, we will be wearing
law every morning at ease, as though it was a holy habit especially tailored for
each of us.
The second story, “The Inverted Man’s Chronicles” deals with a simple
human trait, though a no less serious and worrying one.
Man is an imitative creature by nature, however, when this comparative
feature becomes an obsession and bastardizes into desire to debase, dispossess or
destroy the neighbour, it is not just will of imitation anymore, but it turns now into
envy.
If I had to choose an object with which symbolizing that capital sin I would
not hesitate to pick the mask, because the only way to let it show is taking the
external shape of disguise. The envious subject never reveals his true harmful
intention, either by shame or guilt.
For more than a century, the Economic Egalitarianism –through Marxism and
left political expressions- was for the envious his most effective moral justification.
When that pseudo-intellectual utopian mask became shreds gnawed by reality, the
envious had to find another justification in order to lay their resentment on the
envied. Just like in the drug addict’s world where cocaine had taken the place of
heroine, the Economic Egalitarianism gave in its place to a more lethal one, the

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pseudo-religious fanaticism represented by Fundamentalism so fashionable
nowadays.
Like every social phenomenon, Terrorism is an extremely complex issue;
therefore, it should not be left aside when considering the main variables which
decisively intervene when searching for its true nature.
I will close this introduction with a reflection that I have quoted from the
second story of this book which somehow enshrines the very sense of the present
work.
“Let us refrain from breaking mirrors senselessly, believing that the crystals
are defective. Because the stains we see in them, are nothing less than our own
face’s flaws reflection.

D.G.

5
THE RAMPANT DOG

6
PART I

7
 INTRODUCTION

Vice-Chancellor of the C.B.H.S.U (Canine Brotherhood High Studies University)

address on the occasion of the opening of the Academic year of 10,025 EP
(Canine Era)

March 1st of the year 10,025

“Governing Board, Professors, Students:

I have good reasons to be highly pleased to inaugurate this new C.B.H.S.U’s
10.025 Academic Year Term.
First of all, I am grateful to the National Government's policy, because in the
last three years the Public Budget for the Research Area, has tripled. Secondly,
totally satisfied with the excellent production of interdisciplinary teams such as the
Department of Archaeology and the Standing Committee of Human Zoological
Researches, who have created and successfully developed a project that is
revolutionizing the Ancient History and the Dog’s position in the Universe.
Taking for granted the quality and seriousness that characterized the
development and every one of the project stages, I would like to emphasize the
tremendous impact the findings at the excavation, located in the Desolate
Continent, have caused on the Canine Scientific Community.
The preliminary archaeological research was performed with such
professionalism that the spot for the excavation was located with an amazing
accuracy. One hundred and fifty metres, right below, lay a small human town
called San Juan that the desert dust kept hidden for more than 8.000 years. At
Level XV occurred, in my opinion, the most significant findings: in a basement of a
municipal public building intended for human confinement, were found remarkably
preserved seven tables written by a human. These historical treasures have shed
light on the dawn of our civilization, and contain startling revelations about an
unprecedented crisis of values of human social and political organization which
seemed to have led themselves to self extinction.

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 According to zoology, not much is known about this animal species
developed skills up to now, but only the Football Game and the Bologna Sausage
making. Based now on these new discoveries, we must reconsider not only the life,
work, rise and decline of Man but also the Origin of Dog and his culture since it
appears that there was a close cause-effect relationship between the involution of
Man and the evolution of our Race.
Investigations are proving that the newly discovered "City of San Juan" was
the cradle of Canine Civilization as well as the geographical and cultural mark of
human dominance decline.
Our institution is fully aware of the universal significance of these findings,
so the Vice-Chancellor has agreed to the request of the Department of Archaeology
to publish the full text masterfully decoded by our investigators, who gave the name
of "The Rampant Dog Chronicles"

Vice-Chancellor of the C.B.H.S.U

(Canine Brotherhood High Studies University)
Prof. Bobby Dobermann

_________________________________________________________________________

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 THE RAMPANT DOG CHRONICLES
(An Archaeological Interpretation of the seven original human table’s text)

10
 THE RAMPANT DOG CHRONICLES
(An Archaeological Interpretation of the seven original human table’s text)

TABLE I

"That that men are reluctant to change, always ends

up being changed by the irrational winds of History
in its way, and often, against men’s will "

(J. Ortega y Gasset)

I guess, because of my Judeo-Christian roots I have always hated the

Charles Darwin’s theory, the one that states; "man descends from monkeys."
However, I must confess from the bottom of my heart (where I suspect, we all
have a remnant of scepticism, doubt and even atheism) have always feared that
that theory was true.
Once into this nightmare, it’s not hard to imagine that inferior species faded
so slow into the new evolved creature, that it would pass unnoticed by many
generations, as though one looked continuously at the hands of a watch for a long
time and don’t realize they ever move.
Although I’ve never thought that within my own generation, here, in the
Southern End of America, and, as Borges said, "in this lost South American
suburb", my nightmare wouldn’t be only a premonition, but also the beginning of
an actual and rapid evolution of a species of vertebrates "Dog" generally favoured
by all mankind, and particularly by a sub-human species: "The politicians and their
accomplices".
I have no reason to believe that someone passes my drafts clean so as to
leave a testimony. However, I am going to continue writing with dried excrement
on some interchangeable bottom serving plates of my cage.

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 We are locked into a place which I would name "Human Municipal Kennel," a
grim, silent and endless basement where humans labelled as "mongrels,
dangerous or undervalued” end up.
The dogs use to come down here to feed us once a day, though, they are
showing up more often, and not just to bring us food.
I see now why all the fuss and brawls I’ve been hearing lately. Most of the
famous former professional football players and referees are being rounded up. As
gossip passes on from cage to cage, I got to know that they use that poor people
to amuse themselves by organizing football tournaments which turn out to be,
afterwards, an unspeakable abomination. I suspect, Football and Bologna
Sausage are doggy weaknesses, for I have come to a morbid conclusion: that the
players who don’t perform as expected at the Football courtyard, and referees who
don’t ensure fair play, are doomed to be ground into minced meat. One can tell
that by the existing proportion between the number of players and coaches
belonging to the losing team, and the amount of Bologna sausages hanging from
the ceiling of the dog’s guard office down here the, which is next to our cages,
namely; every time the Municipality’s team loses a match, next day appear twelve
new bolognas hanging up in the ceiling. They gather in the gard sentry every
Sunday to watch football on T.V, take down a piece of Bologna, slice it up and
devour while watching a game.
I wonder -not without indignation- if this sport is everything dogs expect us to do
well…
One way or the other, we are all confined to vegetate here in individual cages, I
guess, to keep us from reproducing. And because of the small space, we can’t
even stretch out our legs (they are fully aware that one of the key steps in the
evolution of lower species -among other things- is being able to stand on the hind
legs, and then walk upright).
I’m afraid we will all die here in captivity in all fours. Or -if we are too stinkers at
playing football- will end up hunging on a hook as pieces of bologna sausage.
In fact, the dogs see us as a lower species whose power key factor over us is
Control... That word ... Control ... First the Municipality, the Police, then the Army,
finally UN Blue Helmets ... Nobody ever was able to exert control over the dogs
... I don’t really feel confident at arriving at a conclusion, for my intellectual
capacity has fallen to a level in which I can, with much effort, make use only of my

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memory. So, before my intellect, as part of the dying flame that has been handed
down from generation to generation for centuries to guide the destiny of the
Planet, fades away due to lack of exercise, I wish to bequeath –if not a reflection-
at least a story about the way the end of Man had begun. Or put it another way,
the daybreak of Dog’s Dominion Era.

To humans:
Octavius (Can’t recall my last name)
To the Canine Government:
I.D Human #33399/03
Vaccine Plate #3305/ABF
Municipality Human Kennel

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 TABLE II

Monday 26th of February 2015.

06.00 AM

“The line which once had separated humans from all

other living things, I’m afraid, started becoming blurred
that morning, while I was slowly heading for my job”

(Octavius)

As it was my custom early in the mornings, I used to drive away every dog I
caught scavenging garbage bags in the streets on my way to my job. However, I
wish I had kicked my neighbour’s asses rather that the dog’s for they having let
their pets roam and copulate in the public thoroughfare, and then, have
abandoned the puppies there.
Fifty yards ahead -not wondering at that- I spotted a brown dog standing on its
back legs poking about a can full of garbage to the brim in the dumping area at a
condominium apartment. As I drew near the scene I found that he was so large!
His stance was so towering that the top of his head almost matched my height.
Yet, the daunting sight didn’t stop me from thinking: “the bastard deserves to be
target of my wrath ..."
As he heard my approaching footsteps he stopped eating, turned around and
returned my stare with the immutability of the Sphinx. Holding up his rampant
position, he kept his eyes fixed on mines, even long after having left him behind.
Never ever, a dog had looked in my eyes in that way. What secrets did he
conceal behind those eyes? I'm sure, the same thing the following night wouldn’t
let me sleep: Thoughts.
The misgivings that froze me to the bone that morning, were caused neither by
the fear of being bitten or even eaten, nor by having the certainty that that dog was
capable of reasoning, but by the paralysing horror of ignoring what the hell was he
thinking about.

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Sunday 4th of March, 2015
7:05 AM

Since that peculiar encounter last Monday, my intuition was sending me strong
signals that the dogs –as a whole species- were all connecting each other
somehow. But...for what purpose? I was terrified by the single thought of drawing
premature conclusions.
I was really needing to meet someone to talk with about this and share my
suspicions, whether to laugh at ourselves dismissing any crazy idea, or else, to
make up at once a research team to assess and measure the pace, rate and
scope of the alleged alteration of canine behaviour.

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 TABLE III

Monday 5th of March, 2015

2:18 AM.

Cacho, my brother in law, came home last Saturday to let me know he would
pick me up on Sunday after lunch to go to see the weekend football match at the
local stadium.
That was exactly the break I had been waiting for. I was to clear my mind from
paranoid ideas by spending an afternoon on football and friendship. All I was
craving was a pint of beer, arguing a little with my buddies over sports, then go
back home to live a normal life again.
That afternoon we saw, laughed and talked about football. We were so
passionately devoted to sports talk. After the game, we all were in need to put
some beer down our throaths in order to raise our spirits. Accordingly, we got
several packs on our way to the park, found an inviting shade under e tree, and
shortly, numberless beers went back and forth. We got into friendly discussions
over recent games, exchanged opinions and questioned the refereeing, the clubs
leadership and the AFA (Argentine Football Association), even pondered over
football values from a professional, amateur, fans and management point of view.
In the middle of this numbing enjoyment I don’t know exactly when and why
one of my buddies brought up the subject of politics. At some point of his
monologue, he harshly rebuked me saying:
"I well know you are a close friend of a politician. I also know you need to feed a
whole family, so why on earth you haven’t asked him anything for your family’s
sake?"
In such relaxed circumstances, I wasn’t prepared to set up a response that they
might have, or had wished to understand.
All in all, having met my fellows for a drink and having seen the football match
did me good afterwards, I stopped for a while worrying about ideas that only make
sense in the science fiction realm, not into a family’s man head, a realistic one who
belongs to his kin and to his favourite football team.

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 Already back home, enjoying the fresh air and the stillness of the night
rendered by the San Juan’s late summer, I found myself haunted by the
recollection of the argument I had with my buddy that afternoon, after the game.
I was perplexed rather than hurt. Is that, on one hand, we the boys could
endlessly disagree whether Boca had always been far better than River. But on
the other hand, we were unable to discuss politics for three minutes without
reaching the point of almost hanging the dissident counterpart.
Football – Politics.
Politics – Football.
What’s the difference between these two activities?
Quite a few.
Both have rules. And one of the goals they have in common is the desire to
succeed.
But ... ¿At what price?
Football.

It would never cross our minds (neither would the adversary’s) the idea that
one day we requested the AFA president to shrink our team goal size and enlarge
the opponent’s. Or that he let us play a game with twelve players, and the other
with ten.Or even worse, that the referee stole a ball dribbling torwards the goal and
scored for us.
Or what would be most unusual; we deemed to quit football practice to run for
president of FIFA and then, from up above, change goal dimensions in our favour,
add up players to our team, remove some from the adversary’s and manipulate
the referees.
If we break the rules of the game and there is no arbitration or leadership to
make the whole sport community abide by the regulations, VICTORY is no longer
VICTORY, because game is no longer a game. The latter would turn into a fake
due to have been unilaterally altered the rules that conforms the nature of the
game itself. Therefore, every alleged winner (he and his accomplices) who comes
out of a flawed game in its rules, proclaiming himself as a winner, is a sort of a
keen, phony and an opportunist who managed to get away with it. He won his own
game, although he never won Football Game.

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 TABLE IV

Politics – Football.
Politics.
Is Politics any sort of game? Definitely not.
Although, I often think, that football is not a game anymore, but for some
people nothing more than a very profitable business. Regardless these tempting
juicy tidbits the sport world market offers, it hasn’t lost its essence. That is, football
remains a game in which you can win, lose or draw, and is still governed by stable
and faithful rules. This kind of sport can still produce a team worthy of carrying the
noble laurel wreaths of victory.
But the nature of politics has nothing to do with game.
Game is essentially COMPETITION.
Politics is fundamentally a public tool made to foster common welfare.
It is true that in many instances of political life exists competition, such as
during election campaigns. It is also a fact that too often there are many important
private or sectarian interests at stake. In spite of this, common welfare shouldn’t
be left off to be the golden rule, the reason of its existence, the one and only goal
of the political-legal tools in any country.
But what happens to a nation that abandons these guidelines? Naturally, it
surrenders communal life governed by rational principles, to go backwards into the
jungle law. The stronger, the faster, the more unscrupulous seizes power. And
also appropriates good sense (the fool’s, of course).
The most visible manifestation of this type of terminal social disease is a
progressive degeneration of a network called LAW with which the individuals of a
community life are kept together and shelters them from chaos. Social life without
this container network turns into a true personal game without any rule or, in any
case, ruled by wicked laws.
... If only we were able to appreciate and practice the rules of our community
feeling the same passion, devotion and scruples we do towards Football ... It
would be wonderful if we put our intuitive and almost devoted awareness of "fair
play" which inspires our football culture, into practice within the "field of our politics
and everyday’s urban life...

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 My mind was wandering off, and my body just rocking into the cool night breeze
on my hanging hammock, when the thinking dogs suddenly returned to the centre
of my thoughts.
I quickly got off and found that my feet were spasmodically searching for the
lawn surface, trying to flee myself from that excruciating thought.
Once I got off and standing on the ground I attempted thinking of something
else, for instance ... how long hadn’t I come down from above? I guess...since my
family and I moved from the apartment. At that time, I remember my youngest
daughter asking me when going down in the elevator:
"Dad, why do the floors go up?
"No dear! Floors are always fixed on its same level; it is the elevator the one
that goes down!" I replied.
Speaking of going downwards, last week my neighbour Don Carlos told me:
"The problem here in Argentina is the U.S. currency. It keeps going up and up!"
"Look Don Carlos, dollar doesn’t ever rise, it’s always still. Argentina's currency
is the one that goes downwards. It’s actually sinking!" I dissented.
I was feeling increasingly entangled in my own wicked thoughts, when I
suddenly felt standing in the middle of mi lawn there, and sinking into the bowels
of the earth, perhaps, because of the weight and gravity of these musings.
From then on I began to feel seriously concerned about the degradation of human
species, rather than about the alleged dog’s evolution.
We were all sinking and devaluating ourselves along with the Argentine
currency and the rest of our culture. We were all trapped in an unstoppable
elevator descending right into a gloomy and deep underground of the Stone Age,
leaving on the upper floors the treasures of civilized life which we never learnt to
value. I hope that someone whom we left behind up on the surface, was able to
appreciate them.
Perhaps, the dogs in the city would.

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 TABLE V

I remember that distant Sunday football afternoon now, and that night of
reflection. By those days, I was beginning to fully understand that the alleged
evolution of dogs kept a very close relationship with the rapid decline of human
species. And it was so palpable and true as that I find myself today in a cage
bumping my head against the ceiling and trying to get used to the idea that we are
gradually regressing to a sub-zoological status.

Tuesday 6th of March, 2015.

23:22 PM.

An overwhelming majority of my people were acting so unscrupulously! Life

had become a pure personal game to play, because nobody cared about others,
except to reduce them to an object or an obstacle, depending on the case, which
anyone could handle, use, destroy, or simply ignore to satisfy all their personal
interests
The rich and the poor, the educated and the uneducated alike threw garbage,
dogs and cats living or dead at anytime, in anywhere. By-laws, traffic regulations,
provincial and national laws, and mainly the National Constitution resembled me
the importance that bystanders gave to a road sign posted on a crossroad which
said; "Caution, Level crossing without barrier" but the railroad had already
disappeared twenty-one years ago.
We all, in varying degrees, had become addicted to a sophisticated single-
player game, whose players curiously shared the same software, hardware and
scenario: The City of San Juan and its inhabitants. And the only way to win it was
to overcome the major obstacle: One had to outsmart a whole network full of
holes, that one we called "The Law". The another main objective was acquiring the
ability to seize political power granted by the State.
I will never forget the pioneers of that wicked game, those "enlightened" who
broke into the realm of politics shortly before I was born. They discovered that Law

20
and Political Power shouldn’t always mean an obstacle, for with a little of ingenuity
and a lot of mischief one could transform them into a gold mine easy to exploit for
themselves and for the unscrupulous to whom succeeded in power.
They well knew that the body of laws was conceived just like God made
bunches of grapes. The flesh of grains was its spirit, the substance, the justice
criteria used to regulate social interaction so as to make it possible, and meant to
reach common welfare. The stalks of the bunch and the beans skin represented
the externality, the armour that protected the pulp and kept the cluster together,
providing the bunch with cohesion, power and due obligation.
Most of my countrymen emulated the notorious "enlightened" by eating skin
and stalk to become powerful, however, discarded the pulp.
Not just any makeshift rogue could separate the flesh from the skin and stalk.
This procedure required owning the only tool with which the meticulous dissection
could be performed: The Political Power. But this software was not available for
sale. So how did you get it then?
If a player wanted to catch up with the national videogame lifestyle, had to be
trained to perfection in certain attributes such as hypocrisy, dishonesty and own a
moral rather flat. Only then it was possible to have chances of claiming the
precious Political Power bonus. After purchasing this precious dissection tool, he
was now enabled to maul the law, amputate the pulp -its heart-, be discarded and
thrown to the dogs and keeps for himself the armour: stalks, stems and skin, the
sheer power granted by legality.
The law was, thus, downgraded to became a powerful heartless zombie-
mutant, stripped off of its spirit and meaning, being reduced to serve as a low tool
for exercising the brutality of unlimited power at the service of the "enlightened"
bastard’s narrow interests.
Not that I'm against personal interests, indeed, they have always been the most
powerful engine of history, and it comes from the most noble drive of man: the
urge to be more and better. It was fine that such interest had been expressed
within the framework of law. But misfortune fell upon us when we were tempted to
play this game of vexing and breaking the rules to use them as a shortcut in the
search for such interests.
Definitely we were forsaking the game of communal life governed and ordered
by the once-sacred public institutions, to give rise to this new and dangerous

21
personal game. And now, thanks to this Political Power bonus, the latter could be
set up in the GOD MODE, get all the tools of political and economic manipulation,
and, thus, run over an entire society in pursuit of what we, the rogues, wished for.
And get away with it without a scratch.
Law was meant to serve a criterion of coexistence. Why on the world, then, the
mere legality was devouring its own soul?
State had been created by my people as a tool for better living. Why on the
world, then, State, the mere tool, was eating up the flesh of his own master?
The dogs were adopted as pets, so why the hell pets are now devouring their
own masters?
Nobody and nothing was actually eating anyone. That is, what people were
throwing away, dogs were taking, which was nothing less than the “Spirit of Law",
called otherwise the “Spirit of Coexistence.", also known as the “tool of balance
between the individual and his community."
When we approached the end, almost everyone constantly fought each other to
seize skin, stalks and stems of the law grapes in order to play each one his own
game, but we despised pulp, the key to community life success.
If the Middle East’s Wise Men who sought the Man’s Redeemer to honour and
worship Him, and finally found Him among the manure in a barn, it wasn’t
senseless to think that in the dark and fetid trash cans of my city, the dogs would
discover the treasure men had rejected. The key with which they would begin to
develop their own game. A game that would swallow up the other game.

22
 TABLE VI

"It is better to light a candle than cursing darkness"

(Confucius)

My concern wasn’t focused on the confrontation between dogs and humans

any longer (though I knew, day by day that fate was drawing near), but now,
precisely on the factor that could avoid our end: learning to live in community
rather than other species does it better than us.
.

Saturday 20th of April, 2015.

11.00 P.M.

I felt particularly happy that day, because of the simple fact of living one more
Saturday, my favourite day of the week.
After many months of neglect, I made up my mind the night before to take the car
to the electrician repair shop next morning. The twenty two years wiring was a
mess, the instruments and low beam lights were collapsed long ago.
While listening to the shrill radio workshop and watching the man work, I felt
doubly happy, for thinking it was Saturday, and for having soon the regulatory
beam lights of my car in conditions to go just wherever I wanted and be back
home whenever I pleased.
The happy life flowing was cut off by the eleven o’clock radio news. Early that
morning, at different province police stations were reported by the Audit Animal
Society nine crime complaints of abuse and violence against street dogs
committed by scavengers and cardboard pickers while poking about among the
trash in the public thoroughfare.
I lost the story line of the radio news when the electrician popped up his head
from under the hood to tell me:
"The whole wiring is useless. So you have two options, sir. The First is patching
up the old ones; I gotta find all shorts circuits and fix them up. Yet, there may have
trouble again. The second option is installing new cables to replace the old ones.

23
It’s the most expensive, though, the best. Either way you’ll have to leave me car coz
it’s dismantled right now... ".
"I’ll take the second option then" I disposed.
I don’t even recall having taken leave of the electrician, when I found myself
standing in the sidewalk.
The morning was ill, perhaps because its golden warmth had given way to the
blinding white glare of the noon, which was now beginning to hurt my eyes and
stun my mind. Or it’s that I felt my county sick and smelly, and myself an
inseparable part of it. Is it possible that my countrymen might not have scented the
reek of our own diseases like I did? In that very second I was struck by the
memory of a North American Far West conquest epic novel passage, where a
traveller crossing over the desert found a man suffering a several weeks
gangrenous wound. While the traveller had to cover his mouth and nose with a
bandana because of the stench, the poor sick man no longer noticed it for having
lived so long together with his own rottenness.
Yes, I do believe now that my county was then going through a state of agony.
So was the whole country, too.
We were so happy and accustomed to the stench of our social diseases, that
the day had our people been put in quarantine, we would surely have cursed the
doctors for having kept us in quarantine.
We were all reaching the point of getting us thrown away into hell itself along
with my car’s old wiring.
I suppose that had my car’s old cables had life of their own and had their minds
been governed by our same thoughts, for sure, they would have blamed the new
installed cables for their bad luck. And we would have incriminated the dogs of the
city for our own aberrations.
Before I could even have set a foot on the pavement, someone tapped my left
shoulder. Without turning, I assumed this was the electrician. I left the workshop
so abruptly that he didn’t even have the chance to ask me some money in
advance. However, from the corner of the eye I saw a huge brown hairy claw
resting on my left shoulder which, judging by its size and colour, I thought it might
belong to the dog I met that morning on my way to work, the one with which we
swore by the mere exchange of a glance, to resume a dialogue by which we would
disclose our true thoughts.
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 While he refraining me from stepping down into the pavement, he said:
"You are breaking your own law. You must go to the next corner and cross over
within the crosswalk."
Without even turn around I answered:
"I’ll cross from wherever I want"
And behind the claw, a guttural voice gurgled:
"From now onwards, you are not going to do whatever you want, but what
commands the law"
For good sense’s sake -and also for my pride’s-, I wouldn’t have allowed a
nightmare voice replacing my voice of conscience. Furthermore, I have always
considered myself a realistic dude, I have my own idiosyncrasy ... I thought it
wasn’t worthwhile having heeded that warning ... not even having turned around to
discuss the matter.
Even Before to be able to set a foot onto the road I lost consciousness. I wish I
had never got it back, because I woke up in the middle of something like a
reconstruction of an ancient Egyptian mummification scene. Four Anubis, four
beastly jackal-shaped faces held me tied to a hospital bed, while another one
injected me, sealed and branded me like cattle.
From my individual cage and having lost any interest in knowing what my fate
will be, I can’t find out now whether this is all about a collective nightmare in which
we all are still immersed. Or is that humans in this region have fell asleep, and
from within this dream, a claw of an alien conscience is rousing us, though,
unfortunately, too late.

25
 TABLE VII

The seventh Table does not record more than a mysterious hieroglyph, perhaps an
animal puzzle or a hobby of the prisoner, drawn by the published Tables author.

Excavation record card belonging to Professor Peke Chihuahua (Member of the Corps of
Archaeology Research C.B.H.S.U)

26
END OF PART I

27
PART II

28
 INTRODUCTION

Vice-Chancellor of the C.B.H.S.U (Canine Brotherhood High Studies University)

address on the occasion of the opening of the Academic year 10,026 EP (Canine
Era)

March 1st of the year 10,026

“Governing Board, Professors, Students:

Firstly, I wish to thank to all the private and public entities that have
believed in our project, for they have consistently supported our Academic Projects
over the time. And secondly, I would like to highlight the brilliant work of the
interdisciplinary Department of Archaeology and the Standing Committee of
Human Zoological Studies who, for over a year and up to the present, are dedicated
to develop a project which has surpassed its own expectations.
And behold the fruits, in the XVI level of the excavations (which began last
year) at the San Juan Human City ruins belonging to the Devastated Continent, was
found documentation, apparently of journalistic nature, which mentions another
source of animal decadence simultaneous with San Juan’s human settlement, and
also, another one of the earliest canine settlements on earth.
The found writings gave grounds to the creation of another Archaeological
Project to which the Department of Epidemiology at our Faculty of Medicine was
later invited to join.
Preliminary investigations were carried out to determine the location where
that city would be buried. The studies concluded that it should be somewhere in the
Continent of the Light. Eleven months ago the diggings began just one hundred and
thirty kilometres northwest Dachshund University Complex, and three months later
the archaeological site was discovered one hundred and eighty feet below the sand
of this vast desert.
The most significant discovery to Science was a virus found in human fossils
they called "Envy", and six tables written by a man locked up in a building

29
originally built for sacred use, and later used by our ancestors as a human
confinement unit.
The main topic of the tables is about a terrible epidemic those animals had to
endure caused by the "Envy" virus which got into the victim’s brains, then poisoned
their hearts, thus, seriously upsetting their emotions causing hallucinations which
deformed perception of reality, and finally made them lose their good judgement.
The Medical College principal task was to verify the existence of such
infection, and if detected, researchers should determine its composition, nature,
degree of danger and possible prophylaxis. Analysis performed by the
Epidemiology Department Investigation Team in human remains proved positive.
Later on, they put forward their opinion about its genesis and development.
The origin of the "Envy" virus is unknown; however, according to the
writings, it is possible that it was begotten by human brain itself due to deficiencies
in its moral-rational immune system. The infection remained in state of dormancy,
but did not reproduce but when it took heart. All we can say for now about its
symptoms is that the victims of the disease of "Envy"-or rather their victimizers-
performed their wickednesses in a solitary way, hiding in the shadows. Alghough,
when that feeling was collective, they needed to express it outwardly through
certain political, military or religious leadership-inspired dogmas of righteous
appearance, which were only meant to conceal either leader’s and follower’s bad
conscience, thus, justifying their destructive work. In that way they could
blamelessly abase and destroy the actual victims, the envied. The animal who wrote
these tables explains that his fellows did not know how to (or perhaps they could
not, or did not want to) develop vaccines to prevent it, or medicines to fight it.
Perhaps because they knew that the only antibodies that could have ever cured,
prevented or stopped its spreading were certain defenses that the patient should
produce by himself. These defenses consisted of a set of virtues and spiritual
qualities that could only be individually and voluntarily developed in the human
mind and heart.
It is written that these hallucinations caused by the virus had led all
humanity to experience increasing uncontrolled patterns of violence never seen
before in the Animal history up to those days. Some had called that bloody chapter
30
of Men "Holy War", others simply "The Age of Terrorism". The truth is that odd
and unusual things happened in a city called Munich in a country called
"Germany" belonging to the "European continent" whose location we frankly
ignore. We can say that in this city, humans sick of the "Envy" virus, led their
paranoid behaviour up to the point of slaughtering millions of virtuous people
immune to this disease, and feeding our ancestors with the entrails of those victims.
We can assure that that fact, apparently morbid and negative, actually triggered the
evolution of our ancestors of that region, and simultaneously precipitated human
decadence.
Albeit it is known that "Envy" had decimated human animal populations in those
latitudes, we cannot assert that it was the only cause of their extintion.
The Prof. John Retriever - one of our experts in hieroglyphics and the Head
Committee Member of The Archaeological Site of the Light Continent Project- has
developed an incipient, though, promising theory that explains another factor that
would have definitely pushed these animals to end their existence that way. His
hypothesis is summarized as follows:
If species evolve walking upright by straightening their heads upwards,
raising front extremities and standing on their back legs; involution is obtained
conversely by turning their lower extremities into central organs of thought, in such
a way that head and hands are relegated to serve as mere appendages and support
of buttocks and feet.
He has based his theory on a suggestive finding; a drawing with an attached
text called "Graffiti" written with blood by a captive animal on a fixed plate of his
cage wall, which here I quote:
"If ye having wealth in sight,
End up in destitution,
Invert the nature of your science,
And plan poverty hard.
If ye try to think sensibly,
And things go backwards,
Your brain certainly does not work!
Then, plan the future with your feet.
And so your operating axis turned upside down
By replacing your head with your feet,
Your plan will yield, for sure, fortune.

31
 Yet, beware of the new position!
Put your hat on your feet
And wear seamless underpants on your head.

Spanish anonymous sonnet “Praise of Folly"

Those humans must have had some reason to believe that by means of the
law of gravity, the new position would make the "Envy" poison drain from their
hearts to expel it down their mouth. The Professor deducts that such inversion
surprisingly caused the opposite effect. The poison wasn’t evacuated as expected,
instead -conveyed by blood- it was sent right down into the brains, by which it is
supposed, the latter ceased working. In this manner, feet and buttocks took up the
brains function becoming the new organs of thought. The poisoning caused by the
"Envy" virus along with the involutional body position seem to have been the two
determining factors that caused the decline and disappearance of those beasts.
The discoveries made within our archaeological diggings are the source of
many theories. The tip of a huge iceberg is being disclosed which will lead us to a
new era of canine knowledge. By understanding how men emerged, evolved and
mostly why and how disappeared from the earth surface, we will come closer to a
full knowledge of our origin and evolution and, chiefly, will enable us to reveal the
secret that will make possible to perpetuate our race on this planet.
Every theory, report and research documentation related to the findings at
the mentioned Archaeological Projects is being collected by our University
Executive Board in order to eventually print and publish them out in several
volumes.
So, we are immensely pleased with these results, and also to deliver up to our
professors, authorities and students, copies of the Six Tables found in the Continent
of Light brilliantly deciphered by our researchers, which were named: "The
Inverted Man’s Chronicles” in appreciation and recognition to the Prof. John
Retriever’s valuable contribution.

Vice-Chancellor of the C.B.H.S.U

(Canine Brotherhood High Studies University)
Prof. Bobby Dobermann
_________________________________________________________________________
32
 THE INVERTED MAN’S CHRONICLES
(An Archaeological Interpretation of the six original human table’s text)

33
 THE INVERTED MAN’S CHRONICLES
(An Archaeological Interpretation of the seven original human table’s text)

TABLE I

God spoke to man:

"I have settled you in the world so that you be
able to look around and see what surrounds you. I
Made a creature out of you that is neither entirely
heavenly nor earthly, nor mortal nor immortal, I
have granted you the power to mould and
conquer yourself, with with you can debase you
by living as beasts, or else, raise your soul to
become a near-divine being. "

Pico de la Mirándola.

We had been a proud people for having been anciently blessed with the gift of
science, arts, literature and wisdom, and lately, with Providence. We have had it
all; cunning, faith, courage and the black gold. I remember the latter oozing from
the guts of earth all over our deserts twenty four hours a day just like a diarrhea of
resources, possibilities and hopes out of control.
There should be no chastisement worse than the humiliation of having had it all
and have lost it all. And to top it off, to have become our pet’s pets, the dogs.
Since I was child I have dreamed of having an epic death such as committing a
terrorist attack to serve my God and His holy State. But I have never imagined
myself growing old in a cage of 0,50 mx 1,00 mx 1,00, ending my days this way in
here, locked up like a rabid dog.
Before I die, or rather before I lose my senses, I will try unravelling a mystery that
anguishes my soul, it is, why have we lost that state of grace to become a cursed
and decimated people? Why and how have we become a bunch of regressed and
doomed would-beasts and have been condemmed to disappear without leaving a
single trace on Earth?
Four items is all I have to to carry out with this, namely; six interchangeable floor
plates of my cage that will serve as a booknote, my own blood to write with, my
memories, and finally something I'm ashamed for and even frightened to admit,
because its exercise has always been a mortal sin: the ability to unprejudiced
reflection.
I recently found among my memories a story that a tiny and smiling Chinese I met
when I was an active member of The International Liberticidal Movement told me:

34
 "A man, who had the custom of going out drinking in the evenings, happened to
be on his way back home completely drunk, when he stumbled and hit his face
against the pavement causing an ugly bruise in the face. He having arrived home
looked in the mirror and thought the bruise was dirt on the glass. He spent the
whole evening trying to clean it out. But having failed to do so and fed up with it, he
ended up thinking it was a flaw in the mirror; so he threw it to the floor shattering it
in thousand shards. "
Just like the poor man's story, I had hoped that my people, after having broken
all the Western, East, Middle East and Dog’s world mirrors, and having recovered
from the pride and arrogance drunkness hangover, that would we ever realize that
the curse was not in them, but in our own face.

To humans:
Abdul (Can’t recall my last name)
To the Canine Government:
I.D Human #1516154/10
Vaccine Plate 232664/HJG FREE FROM INFECTION
Mosque Human Kennel

35
 TABLE II

Even before I was born, I had sensed through the frantic pounding of my mothers
blood, the omen of violence and brutality that was waiting for me outside her
womb. It was also reserved for me a baby-sized green combat military uniform
emulating the Supreme Leader’s displayed out in a shop somewhere in the streets
which I would have as a present when I turned three. And later on, in my school
years, the indoctrination classes, the acquirement of the consciousness
awakening that affirms God had rejoined the State and the Religion. Also lay
ahead the English classes’ attendance whose knowledge would help me to
penetrate the West, as well as the liberticide-instruction courses which involved
suicide attacks using trotyl loads. After all this, in the end (or at the beginning of
my nightmare) our archenemy was there in the West, the virus called "Freedom"
(by then, I did not even have the freedom to mention it). The sacred reason for
which I was born -and should have died- was leading to victory the crusade of
wiping out this powerful virus of the face of the Earth, along with its terminal ill
people. The virus “Freedom” and the infected had to be annihilated, for they meant
a mortal threat to the very essence of our creed and lifestyle.

Due to my oustanding performance in every stage of my political-religious-

military- career, I was continuously promoted to positions of great responsibility
and power. For that reason, -I have always been convinced of it- that one of my
duties was, more than ever, display and exemplary behaviour to my subordinates,
superiors and alikes. Unfortunately I was one of the few who practised that
decorum, because almost everyone, especially my superiors and alikes, ate the
evil fruit of Freedom. Some of them, frequently hired the services of blonde blue-
eyed prostitutes from the West, and took them to shopping to cities like New York,
where they spent millions on buying them jewelry. Some others used to smoke
American cigarettes and drink scotch. We could also find among our ranks of
senior officers, some who probably were the best clients of the most famous
casinos in Las Vegas. The more power they got, the more they blatantly benefited
from the disgusting free market virus’s fruit by creating bank accounts in the
Western banking system to earn interests, apparently to meet the goals of our
Movement, though, to secretly fullfill some secret craving (usually linked with some
Western temptation).
Promotions had led me to get acquainted with the highest political, religious and
military elite of our Movement. The longer I coexisted with them, the more I got to
know about their private lives. I closely watched many attitudes that were in sheer
contradiction with our dogma. But what disgusted me most was some comrades’s
behaviour which betrayed our sacred traditions and lifestyle, like sending their
children to study and live in prestigious universities in the Contaminated Free
World. And to top it off, they used to buy them impressive cars and motorcycles to
live there in the worst western style. They did want their offsprings to catch the
virus!
How was it possible, that our people longed for becoming or having all what we
hated they (Westerners) were like or owned? My countrymen were secretly
coveting and spying on Western things and values. But if so, why on earth this
hypocrisy? Is that something was good and valuable as long as it was mine, but if

36
it belonged to someone else it was evil and mean? Oh good God! But…what kind
of moral myopia was this of ours?
Therefore, I asked to myself the following question:
"Do things, values or qualities we price, leave off being valuable for the mere
fact of belonging to others?"
The answer was blunt:
"Things, values or qualities are always valuable no matter who possesses them.”
I having become prisoner of my own shame, did my best to conceal that wicked
response in the wickedest and innermost part of myself. Even hidden there, it
gradually began to turn into a rising sun that would melt down the fragile built-ice
universe that I had let others build inside me along my whole life there into the
dark and ignored caves of my conscience.

37
 TABLE III

I will never forget my early high school year’s at the most prestigious institution
in the country, neither will I Jemail, one of my classmates. He left a deep imprint in
my life. Jemail wanted to destroy me, although the poor fellow ended up in the
local hospital dying before my eyes.
Teachers, school authorities and my schoolmates had always openly declared
their admiration towards my remarkable ability to learn English faster and better
than anyone, all but Jemail, who had been totally indifferent to my
accomplishments. Throughout my entire school life I had been countless times
stabbed in the back by him. I will fumble about in my memory for some of the
deadliest ones
During the first year it had been nothing but an endless chain of innumerable
gossips he continuously divulged, such as that I was earnestly devoted to study
not so much because of my intellectual capacity, but because I was threatened by
my parents to be beaten if I wouldn’t obtain good marks at school, in that way they
would boast about my achievements. Shortly after that, and without the least
intention of giving up his wicked intentions, he kept attempting to vilify me, now
saying that my high proficiency in English was because my parents were Western
spies. Obviously, Jemail’s slanders were aimed to destroy my reputation, but as
he had failed the last year, kept trying the next by saying I had having an affair
with a student from school. He did that just to get me into troubles with the
school’s authorities and the girl’s parents.That had put me in an ackward and a
very dangerous situation, because in my country, western-style courtship was one
of the most characteristic and abhorrent symptoms of having been infected with
the virus of "Freedom".
My father took action on the matter at once. Although considering the facts like
the overwhelming wave of comments that had constantly been running to and fro
everywhere, and the pressure of her parents to kick me out of school for the sole
purpose of cleansing his daughter’s honour, my father could do little about it. My
school days there, were coming to an end.
Under these circumstances, I remember a particular day at the end of a
shooting training class. Down in the locker rooms I found the Jemail’s turban
instead of mine. Obviously, he took mine by mistake. Moved by curiosity rather
than any interest in getting the garment back, I headed for Jemail’s place. On my
way, I was trying hard to clarify my feelings towards him. The mere thought of him
and his harmful behaviour triggered heavy loads of distress and fear into my heart,
but I also felt the urgent need to know what was impelling him to act so wickedly.
Jemail wasn’t home. His mom greeted me kindly, although somewhat nervous.
While putting the kettle on for a cup of mint tea, she began telling me -as if
apologizing for some reason- the hard times her son had had to go through in his
childhood, to which, I thought, had nothing to do with the reasons of my visit or
with what was happening at school. After taking a couple of sips from my cup, and
and feeling a little uneasy about the conversation, I changed the subject. I showed
her the Jemail turban and told her the reason of my call. As if trying to shake
outrageous thoughts off herself, she hastily rose from his chair, grabbed the
garment and asked me to follow her upstairs to her son's bedroom in order to
search for my turbant which should be somewhere among his belongings.

38
 The four walls of his room were completely plastered with posters advertising
seminars and Western products in English language. All of them drawn by himself.
His mom must have seen the horror drawn on my face, for which she intended to
sketch a verbal explanation by saying to me:
- "Since child, Jemail have dreamed of becoming an English teacher. So I think
... he feels a little bit of envy towards you. "

Three days after that visit, -and two before the principal requested my father to
get me transferred as soon as possible to other school- everyone heard the news
that morning; Jemail suffered a traffic accident. My chest was overran by mixed
feelings. On the one hand it was a relief, yet, on the other, I began to feel sorry for
him. All my classmates went to the hospital at once to visit him and learn about his
health condition. His mother was there, in a gray and dark corridor, wrapped in
grief and despair. Some relatives unsuccessfully attempted comforting her; others
remained shocked and motionless as though the boy had already died. I
approached her, she looked up and spread her arms towards me, took her hands
while she said with watering eyes and weeping voice:
- "Abdul!... my sonny isn’t well...he do nothing but calling you all the time.
Please… go inside to see what he want from you. "
The nurse who accompanied me to his bed whispered in my ear I make my visit
as short as possible, because the boy was in a critical condition. When I got close
to his bed he must have sensed my presence because he immediately opened his
eyes. And without any prologue he began to say:
- "Hey Abdul... what’s happenning to me nnow is good, it’s better this way, cause
I’ve been suffering from an incurable disease. I’ve got a virus that upsets my
reasoning and poisons my heart. And so moved by this poison I’m impelled to
destroy my neighbor. "
I asked with bewilderment:
- "What are you talking about?".
He went on as if he had not heard me:
- "It all started years ago in my head. I have always craved for being able to
master the English language and have become a professor, and then someday, have
been assigned to spying missions in the West. But one fine day you joined school,
and in a peculiar way, you walked into my life, and got into my thoughts ... From
then up to now, I have made the mistake of comparing you with me in my mind, Is
that I used to believe that if I was like you I would be much happier than I am! Once
that absurd reasoning took root in my mind, a feeling of dissatisfaction and
emptiness grew stronger inside me, which I have never been able to mitigate. I have
made but a few feeble attempts to emulate you, and when I failed –or was afraid I
wouldn’t make it- I tried hard to assimilate this inferiority, but it’s never worked.
This useless comparison between you and me; the impotence of not being able to be
better myself –or, at least to match you- in English, and my inability to assimilate
this inferiority, forced me to live every day and every night with that poison which
embittered my heart. Eventually, this venom turned inside me into self-punitive
feelings; and outwardly, into a dire need of debase and destroy you.
Every time I attempted to annihilate you, I concealed myself in shadows, for
before the world’s eyes I lacked of any morally acceptable cause. I also did so for
having felt guilty and ashamed, as I had always been aware of the sheer
39
malignancy of my feelings and purposes. Behold, Abdul, the reason why you have
been the target of my slanders and defamations which are ruining your career now.
Before it's too late, I want you to forgive me for what I’ve done. Instead of having
fed hatred in my heart, I should have raised respect for the better. Instead of having
engaged myself in equating to the eminent by beheading him, I should have
concentrated on my self-realization in English or in any other area.
I have come to the conclusion that the Envy virus is infinitely more harmful than
the Freedom’s."
He stopped breathing afterwards.
Two days later I was transferred to another school.
All the pieces were beginning to fall in the right place: the Jemail’s envious
behaviour; his confession before he died and my comrade’s contradictory attitude.
All these revelations forced me to appraise my movement, my comrades, my
people, my family and myself from a new perspective. I would never see the world
through my old glass again. In my innermost self the idea that our people were
being seriously infected by the virus of envy was growing stronger, and also that
our Dogma was just a powerful drug, mixed with high doses of thie Envy virus,
manufactured and distributed by our political religious and military elite to be
consumed in mass by my people. Once we had become envy-drug addicted and
ended up thinking, feeling and consequently behaving under the hallucinogenic
effects, we would all knock down the fake target: the nonexistent Freedom virus.
Although our target wasn’t actually Freedom, but the Westerners, the envied
ones.
And ultimately, the only benefited ones: The Dogs.

40
 TABLE IV

The achievement of my political career’s pinnacle coincided with the closure of

our religious military and political Holy Mission first stage. In those days the
Western world was irreversibly beginning to crumble because of the terror and
panic caused by our martyr’s systematic deeds. That paralyzing fear did provoke
the expected devastating effects on the financial world, stock exchanges, banks,
industry and trade throughout the Free World. That was the sign we had been
waiting for to get the PhaseTwo started out.
My memories of the years before I got my most important promotion (I was
assigned to my thirtieth-reconnaissance mission in Europe, Germany, in Munich
City. I had to assess there a target and its sorroundings) are still fresh, because
kinky thoughts –and even kinkier feelings- seized my mind and heart.
I don’t know whether I felt it that way because of the envy virus or because the
freedom’s, the thing is that I had never seen anything more disgusting than a
human being treating a dog as if it was of our own species. That's exactly what
many German ladies of that city did: they bathed them with shampoo, perfumed
them, took them for a stroll on boggypods, and to the hairdresser, manicured
them, if deemed necessary took them to the psychotherapist. Also they bought
special food for dogs that was available on every shelf of human supermarkets. In
our country, dogs used to eat leftovers and slept outside. They simply lived like
dogs and were treated like dogs, clearly differentiated from men.
The objective of the first stage called G8MPCTC (Group of the Eight Most
Contaminated Countries Total Collapse) was successfully accomplished thanks to
the beastly bombings carried out by the special suicide squad under my
command.
When confussion, chaos and anarchy began reigning in the Western World, the
Holy Council reckoned the time to get on with the occupation stage had come. So I
was sent back to Germany, but this time on the holy duty of comforming the
Cabinet of Occupancy. The instructions of the Supreme Leader were accurate; to
carry out the extermination of people contaminated with the Freedom virus.
Already settled there and being in charge of the goverment, I managed the
Supreme Leader hastened the approval of my first two government decrees drafts,
which I quote here:

"Article 1 - Once erected the extermination buildings, proceed to arrest the

individuals who have excelled in this country at business, politics, sciences,
sporting, arts and religion, and then annihilate them.
Article 2 - Proceed to snatch away all the dog pets from their masters, which will be
under the guardianship of the State, and feed them with the entrails of the sacrificed
humans. "
Once the extermination camp construction had been finished in compliance with
the regulatory decrees, I commanded the creation of a local canine population
census in order to thoroughly locate the stupid pet dogs and how many there were
there. And also another Census of human population to determine who should be
annihilated or, in some cases, isolated and recovered from the Freedom virus so
that they could be of some use for our Movement’s purposes.
The Dog Expropriation Brigades did their job with great efficiency, because in
just six months they had abducted nearly quarter a million of those silly lapdogs
41
which ended up imprisoned in the concentration camp. Oh! What a pleasure I felt
back then, to see hundreds of thousands of them living in chicken wire cages,
swarming around and mingling themselves with thick clouds of dust raised by their
own legs, and still wearing ridiculous pigtails tied with satin brighted colour ribbons
at the top of their heads, but this time being treated like real dogs and behaving
like such; hysterically barking showing their bared teeth. Kidnapping Brigades did
a good job as well, for they had captured and eliminated in the same period almost
half a million of infected people.
What was the true reason why I felt so outraged by the mere sight of those
puppies being treated like humans? Did I really disagree, deep inside me, with the
idea of caring so much about dogs? Well...my indignation was nothing but a
desguise to conceal the actual cause. I must confess that, thoroughout my
childhood, I had felt a distressing lack of affection from my mother. She had been
so cold towards me that I spent my whole childhood living in a vast emptiness. The
truth is that the envy virus was gnawing on my soul! I felt so sad and empty every
time I compared my poor and distant childhood happiness with which that dog in
Munich must have enjoyed when being strolled in a buggypod by her master, so
well cared for by such advanced Western resources and by the touch of those
warm and maternal hands. I wish I had been him when child and having been so
spoiled as that dog, at least, for just one minute! In that manner, my heart shrank
from helplessness, frustration and unassimilated despair. This rational comparison
made me feel such chagrin that it ended up poisoning my heart and eventually
pushed me to debase the dogs the way I did.
I think today, that everything has a measure, a limit. But then, not knowing it, I
pushed things too far, beyond that limit, when I ordered to feed the dogs with
hearts and brains of sacrificed infected humans.
Is that instead of debasing them ... I did exalt them by doing so! Because they
were being nourished with brains and hearts saturated with virtues with which
dogs would keep the virus away from their souls, whereas we were becoming
increasingly blinder, sicker and more intoxicated because of envy.
The dogs, even in captivity, had begun to self-structuring as a community more
wisely than we had. They used to practice virtues such as respect for natural
hierarchies and for the better. And instead of humiliating the successful, they
strove to emulate the him and concentrate on their own self- realization.
The virtues (practiced by those men whom I turned into dog food) were no less
than the only antidote to envy. Meanwhile we, devoid of this trait, advanced in the
opposite direction, walking away from the real-world perspective and values. The
venom of envy clouded our minds and hearts distorting our vision of reality,
paralyzed our will to spiritual rising and insulated us from each other.
The envy was quite a desintegrating factor because, although invited us to keep
together militarily, politically and religiously on behalf of the Sacred Dogma’s
slogans, the sole and unspeakable purpose of the wicked association was to
generate conflict and violence outbreaks in the world community so as to insulate,
weaken and systematically destroy the envied, the Westerners.

The calamities provoked by our envy were slowing down the upward march of
our species and, thus, leading us straight to self-destruction. The dogs, instead,
were impelled to material and spiritual evolution through the practise of creative
emulation which was inspired in freedom values and respect for the better.
Why on the world didn’t I take seriously from the beginning the Jemail’s words
he uttered on his deathbed? Why didn’t I pay due attention to the hypocrisy of my
42
comrades? There’s nothing wrong with Freedom. The virus has never existed!
Freedom is not a virus at all, but it is an essential and irreplaceable ingredient, the
vital oxygen that humans need to release their natural impulse to be more and
better.
Now I understand why freedom and his daughter, inequality, to us the envious, get
on our nerves.

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 TABLE V

Say: I seek refuge with the Lord of the Dawn,

From the mischief of those who practise secret arts;
And from the evil of malignant witchcraft,
And from the evil of those who blow on knots,
And from the mischief of the envious one as he
practises envy.
And from the evil of the envier when he envieth.
And from the evil of the envious when he envies.

Chapter CXIII: Al-Falaq (the Daybreak, Dawn,

The Koran)

The envious’s brutal and insatiable yearning of throwing the superior and
successful Westerner’s flesh to the dogs, didn’t stop there. My comrades also held
political, military and religiously organized huntings here, in my own country,
though not solitarily performed as Jemail had done against me, but collectively,
protected and hypocritically justified on the principles of our Sacred Dogma.
Ridiculous charges like tax evasion and unnecessary display of spiritual or
material power were held against students, professionals, inventors, scientists,
artists, athletes, saints, industrialists and traders who had excelled in their
respective realms and subsecuently condemned to persecution, arrest and public
execution.
I guess now that the whole idea was sending to mankind this message in order
to justificate our bloody deeds commanded by our darkest and unspeakable
feeling, ENVY:
“Inequality is a crime; therefore, being better or successful means becoming a
criminal.”

I also understand now the reasons why I found myself, back then, between
crossfires, that is, between my incipient awareness and the rotten and insane
principles of the Holy Movement.
How is it possible that I having been the only one who realized the existence of
envy and its terrible destructive power, had been the master tool of human
extermination, and the one who had placed dogs on the threshold of evolution?
I have been envied and have also been envious. I had known both faces of the
meanest and most miserable capital sin. My whole life had become an
embarrassing chain of disappointments: the Jemail’s envious hypercriticism and
defamation that led me to the isolation, marginalization and the temporary delay in
my career; the double-faced and contradictory behaviour of my comrades; the
envy I felt towards that puppy in Munich; the genocide, the monstrous mistake of
feeding dogs with offals which contained high doses of envy proof virtues, the
freedom virus inexistence and my unconditional loyalty to the Movement, which
was nothing less than a hollow facade that was solely intended to mask the envy
... Why in the world I didn’t die in my mother’s womb!

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 I found myself in Munich, at the Governorate Office at the Leopold Strasse,
sitting at my desk, onto the pinnacle of my career, however, bitterly disappointed
about my people, my movement ... and my existence. I don‘t know when it all
began, but my deeds and my conscience had splitted away in a forkpath taking
each a different branch, and it was now impossible they met again ... I was literally
stuck in a dead end street.
According to the faith we profess, death is a natural, common, and so a
transcendental fact as it is being born. In my case, I thought, it might be a relief, a
liberation to immortality. While playing games with that idea, I mechanically took
my service gun out of the desk drawer.

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 TABLE VI

“Verily, We have warned you of a Penalty near, the Day

when man will see (the deeds) which his hands have sent
forth, and the Unbeliever will say, "Woe unto me! Would
that I were (mere) dust!"

Chapter LXXVIII An-Naba (The Tidings, the

Announcement, the Koran)

The ultimate grace that I had hoped from Heaven has recently been denied.
Because today I haven’t aroused in heaven, nor in Germany, but in my Country
(after days, months or years?), with a gauze bandage soaked in dried blood as
hard as a cardboard sheet, wrapped around my temples, locked up in this hellish
cage, and surrounded and guarded by German shepherd headed army dogs and
assisted by hairy poodle doggies wearing colourful satin topknots on their heads.
I start to believe now that the Creator rather than having wished to shorten the
fratricidal’s lifes –like mine-, he has extended it. The Holy Scriptures say that God,
hadn’t set Cain free from his guilt by putting him to death, instead, He left him alive
to wander in the East of Paradise and put a mark on his forehead, so when found
no one would kill him. Also Methuselah had lived to 969 years, but not as a
granted blessing, but I think, as a mean to experiencing remorse and contrition.
I must accept my fate.
The further success of my mission, that is, preserving and make known these
writings is, up to this point, out of my reach, but it lays in someone else’s hands to
keep this testimony from hazzard, and, if possible, to disseminate it.
As an ultimate exercise of mind, I want to believe that dogs are willing to grant
my last will, which I accept. I wish that an epitaph be engraved on my Nation’s
tombstone. I would not hesitate to be it this:

"PERMANENTLY DEVELOP AND PRACTICE VIRTUES IN YOUR HEART

WITH WHICH ENNOBLE IT AND PURIFY IT, AND KEEP UP YOUR GOOD
JUDGEMENT.
APPRECIATE AND VALUE OTHER'S MATERIAL AND SPIRITUAL
POSSESSIONS, REJOICE FROM YOUR NEIGHBOUR’S BLISS, BUT NEVER
LET IT BE A CAUSE OF DISTRESS.
SHUT YOUR HEART’S AND MIND’S DOOR AND LEAVE ENVY OUT,
BECAUSE IT IS NOT A MATTER OF SCRUPLES, BUT OF SURVIVAL. "

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THE END

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