hurricane ethos

This video is based on a story that I wrote, found below:


The tornado was going about its usual business. Transforming the truth telling people into birds, and the ones with intentions of world domination into reptiles. As the tradition holds it for many years now, the annual conference , was coming up very soon, where the holy Tibetian monks* would resolve the problems between the two parties.


There was only one last monk remaining.


The atmosphere was getting very tense, no chirp of the birds could be heard, no stone occupied by the cold blooded reptiles.


Days went by, no sounds on the streets, no movement around. Dark skies. Grim electricity in the air.


The conference was in progress, a former football stadium, now filled with birds on one side, reptilians on another. The last Tibetian monk in between the two. The word of the monk was holy in the current disposition, and was treated as the ultimate intelligence. As he was the last one, his choice was to decide the destiny of the species.

He was the sole tribunal of the bird-reptile world, and the only religion both societies upheld.


It was this year, that the reptiles ran out of animals to hunt and feast on. Therefore they extended their menu with the birds. The birds, as small and fragile as they were, had no way of fighting back. Yet they held the higher status in the class hierarchy, and were able to live better lives. One could say, that the birds have constructed the first ideal class. “The truth-telling bourgeoisie”. With free education and medical care. (Canadians were the only ones to come close before them) And as a matter of fact, some of the reptiles with their underdeveloped brains envied the birds for their beautifully constructed society.


The bourgeoisie birds, with no hierarchy between them, sit across the wolf pack of reptiles with a testosterone-charged alpha male as their leader.


All the eyes lie on the monk. As he is the one to resolve this conflict. Tornado raging in the background, sky turning orange as the dusk falls. The whole crowd filled with anticipation.


The monk’s choices were:


-to speak the truth of the prosperity in the bird nation and become bird himself.


This could be the last drop before the cup of reptile appetite overflows.



-to take side of the reptiles and annihilate \the birds.


This would mean that the holy monk would have to give up all the values he       previously upheld, and settle to live like a savage, while pushing the society        development million years back.


He clears his throat, gets closer to the microphone. Sweat drop falls onto it as the tornado comes closer. No hair on his bold head to wave in the wind.


He opens his mouth and says:


Investment in cryptocurrency promotes the decentralization of economical power.


Tornado confused, birds confused, reptiles confused. Monk walks off.




*-Tibetian monks neither spoke nor strived for the world domination