On the ledge overlooking the worlds of our universe, the Satari came together in a council to discuss Earth. “We have seen distress,” they said. “And the women and men… even children are afraid. They are afraid of death.”

         The council moved to the overlook and pointed to the Earth. “See there, is hope.” And the years of Earth shuffled, slowing down and stopping and speeding up again. The years slowed down and stopped at the time of death of people and those people came out of the Earth. When people came out from the Earth, the universe lit up, and the council cried, “Purity! Perfected for our Prefect!”

        A loud sound was made and the sky above them opened. The purest sunlight fell like rain and the Satari looked up. The voice of the prefect entered the Satari. “Why do they fear death? Have I not made a man into a tree and tears have learned to sing? And in the year of my field, they lost everything. And in the day of the bloodless blossom?”

       The Satari answered and said, “Sir there are so many robes they wear, some say your names and cannot see nor do they know or care but are afraid. They cannot see and though they sing, they cannot feel you ever.”

      The sunlight rained more, and bloodless blossoms fell, and the prefect said through the Satari, “Since all has been done, and all my trees have fed them and the man of tree of bloodless blossoms sang, what is the problem with their song?”

        “Sir,” said the Satari. “They need a jump and a start. In their heart they are alive, but they have so much on their mind.” The Satari looked up. And a scroll came down, so powerful it was singing within itself, forever. A dispatch of Satari was sent into the Earth and globally encircled it. And the prefect said: “Carry this scroll down to Earth and place it upon the heart of a boy named John of Lennon. He will put into song for the world many reasons to live.”

       The Satari reached to the Earth and planted the scroll. The Prefect came down and touched one Satari and said, “Son of the Air, clear the airwaves. Let mankind celebrate life. For death is already defeated. Go!” To the rest of the Satari he charged this command, “When they play “Hey Jude” publicly, I want ALL you Satari to get down!”

      The Satari looked confused. “Get down, sir?”, they asked. “Yes!”, said the prefect, a little upset. “Get down there! Get the people to feel it. I want millions of people to finally feel good. You know- ROCK OUT!”

       “Ohhhh…”, said the Satari. “Yeah. We love to rock out.” The prefect said, “Bah. Okay. Well, I’ll be working on the 21st century up here, so make sure the people sing so I can hear it. Bring me some more wine, please.”

           And the prefect’s pen was inking down about the good that would be done in 2013, 2014 & 2015… very carefully not omitting any details as he wrote very small letters on a scroll that ran down the infinite distance of the great Hall of Kings Past, Present and Future.

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