Joe DiBuduo
1122 Stetson Rd. #d
Prescott AZ 86303
(630) 220-8384
Joe1025@hotmail.com
Namuh’s Visit

The sky hung low over the slaughterhouse. The cloud cover was so thick no one saw the light bubble that transported me touchdown. Once I stepped out it immediately vanished. I stood at the crossroads, and read the directional signs. One pointed straight ahead and the wording on the arrow said, “Tyson Food Company.” I double-checked my coordinates and found I was at the correct slaughterhouse, surrounded by farmland with roads leading to and from the meat packing plant. I smelled it long before I got close enough to see the structures and holding pens overloaded with crying cattle.
“I'm here to apply for a job,” I told the receptionist as I patted my long curly blue-black hair into place on my misshapen head, twice as big as most others I’d seen so far.
Shelia, from personnel looked me over, “Do you speak English?”
“Yes, I do.” I pulled out a handful of ID.
“I only need a SS card.” She glanced at it, “OK, you're hired, but why do you have the same first and last name Namuh, Namuh?”
“That’s what my father named me.”
The mention of my father reminded me, it was entirely his fault that I was here on this barbarous planet. If he wouldn’t have created these humans in the first place, I wouldn’t be here now. When he first created them he was so proud of them that he reversed our family name of Namuh to make a name for these creatures. They were now called Human. He thought this was so clever that every creation he made from this time on was named after one of his body parts spelled in reverse. Childish, I knew, but it gave him pleasure. Now his creations on Earth were acting opposite to what my father created them for. As the oldest son, I had to rectify the problem. Maybe I resented the power my father had, but I intended to deal harshly with these disgusting creations of his.
Last week I had to appear in front of the Galactic Security Council. The Council is located on a small neutral planet where all the planetary Gods meet to iron out their differences. A survey ship had recently returned with information on the distant planet that my clever father had named Earth by reversing the name of our home planet Htrae. He did it again, once he started reversing names it seemed he couldn’t stop.
The Gods only randomly checked the outer worlds and sometimes 10,000 or more years passed between checks. The survey ship checked Earth and found Humans were not only eating their cousins as a food supply, but were treating them in a very unacceptable manner. When this horrendous behavior was described, they called a full meeting of the Galactic Gods Peace Commission. I was to be quizzed by the Security Council, and then attend the commission meeting soon after.
Once in front of the Security Council they lambasted me with all kinds of technical questions about my father’s creation. Once he named the planet he was elected “God of Earth.” And that meant he was responsible for Earth from then on.
“Didn’t he create humans in his image?” “What went wrong?” “Where does the cruelty come from?”
“My father instilled nothing but our good qualities into the creations and they somehow got infected with evil.” I reminded the Council about the God who was angry at my father for creating humans before he did. “What was his name? It begins with an S, I think, but I can’t remember now.” Anyway he said it was his idea and my father stole it, but the council ruled in my father’s favor. “It’s possible he could have sabotaged the humans and turned them into the cruel uncaring beings that they are. Heck it’s been over a hundred thousand years and nothing last forever.”
They weren’t satisfied with my answers. I knew the Galactic Commission wasn’t going to be easily placated either. I went directly to the Galactic Commission meeting, I looked around the great hall where Gods from all of the planets sat, laid, perched, or swam, depending on what form they took. I noticed all the translation machines were silently scrolling the thoughts of the different Gods across large illuminated screens. This was to ensure that none of the Gods could plant false information in another God’s mind. The information scrolling in plain view where everyone could see it made planting information a difficult task. But some of the Gods still tried to do it occasionally.
The hall was set up so all the tiers of seats surrounded a large indoor body of water where the Gods who refused to take a mammalian form could comfortably attend the meetings. Members without legs could stay at ground level or poolside, as it was often called. They got poolside because it was sometimes hard for them to get to the higher levels. The Gods with wings had to go to the highest level, because it was so much easier for them to get there. The four legged members had the second level with ramps leading up to it rather than stairs. Two legged members were seated on the third level. No God was considered above any other on this world. All Gods were equally protected under the constitution of The Galactic Council.
My father and most other Gods were lacking in imagination and the life forms they created were always modeled to look like one God or another. I knew the planet Earth was finished. The Gods would never allow the mistreatment of beings created in the image of so many of them.
Like creator, like creation, was a saying the Gods had. The human actions led every God to believe my father had these kinds of qualities buried within. Humans were blackening my family's name.
The information was given to the Council from the survey ship that had inspected Earth while I stood in front of them. Once they heard how the human cousins were being treated, mixed sounds of sorrow and rage emanated from all members of The Galactic Gods Peace commission.
Although the monitors silently read the thoughts of all members, once they heard of the horrors perpetrated on Earth, the member's vocal cords got a workout. This was truly a cacophony of the Gods voices. Anger directed all the inhabitants of the hall. The anger was so strong in all the Gods that a pungent smell of it filled the great hall and some let go with lightning bolts out of frustration. The anger was directed at my father who was presently at the far end of the Galaxy creating another planet.
He was going to name this planet Toof. He already named one of his creations for every other body part and his foot would make it complete. I always wondered if the Humans he created on Sinep, or Ssa ever figured out what their planets were named after. The anger from the council was directed towards me, because being the oldest son, I was responsible for whatever my father had created in his absence.
“Council Members, I have concluded that the process my father used to create the inhabitants of Earth was largely successful. Somehow when he created them, the human nature got turned backwards or inside out and went from love to hate, from kindness to brutality, from compassion to heartlessness. It could have been sabotage from a vengeful God or maybe the experiment wasn't perfect. But the problem can be easily remedied.”
“How do you propose we remedy the situation?” asked the spokesman.
“I’ll go there myself to see if sabotage has taken place.”
“And what if it hasn’t and the Humans have somehow naturally become cruel and unfeeling toward their fellow creatures?”
“Then I’ll take whatever means necessary to fix the situation.”
I checked my chronograph to be sure of the exact time. I needed to be at the exact latitude and longitude at the precise minute, or I'd miss my transport. I stood waiting and right on time, I saw the light beam forcing its way through the atmosphere, reaching like an inverted bubble through the air to get to me. It arrived without a sound, and I felt the glowing light around me. Enclosed in a protective cocoon of light and energy, I was lifted from the atmosphere and transported at the speed of light to Earth. I wasn’t a God yet and wouldn’t be until my father died, if he ever did. A few Gods got tired of living and passed their Godliness on to their oldest sons, but that happened infrequently. The last time that happened was two million years ago.
It was a comfortable trip. I was almost sorry when it was over, but I knew I had a job to do and the sooner the better.
“Mr Namuh, MR NAMUH.” The receptionist grabbed me by the shoulder and shook me to get my attention.
“Go with Big John here, he’ll be your foreman.”
I went with Big John and spent the day learning not only how they mercilessly killed thousands of their cousins, but how they beat, tormented and tortured them before and while slaughtering them. What upset me the most was when Big John took me to the place where they slaughtered the cows. My Father had created cows in the image of my grandmother. Every time a cow’s head was smashed with a sledge-hammer, I saw my grandmother. I had a very human reaction, and puked all over Big John’s feet.
“Don’t worry, Namuh. You’ll get used to the blood and guts after a short time.”
I puked again and felt wetness on my face.
“Jesus! Namuh, there’s nothing to cry about. They’re only goddamn cows,” Big John said.
I walked among the humans and saw that much had changed from the original human my father had created, but I found no sign of sabotage. I was granted God like powers so I would be able to fix any mistake my father had made. Whatever changed them into what they are must have come from within. When my father left this world to build another, he had left it in pristine condition and in balance. There was to be no master of this world other than himself, but now that he was gone, the humans were acting like they were masters of this world.
“Namuh, Namuh.”
I heard my father calling me and looked up where I knew he’d be if he visited this world. I saw a sky filled with billowing white clouds, and if he was there he was hidden behind the clouds.
“Forgive them, for they know not what they do.”
I knew it was my father speaking because I recognized his thunderous voice. “How can I forgive them after what they’ve done to your mother’s likeness? They’re not only cruel to their cousins, but they treat one another almost as badly as they do their cousins.”
“I’m at fault. When I designed humans I was a newly made God and I didn’t program them with enough empathy or compassion. It’s not their fault.”
The clouds parted for an instant and I caught sight of my father floating high above the clouds. His appearance awed me as it always did, but because I was sent here to fix his mistake, I realized he wasn’t as perfect as I always believed. This gave me the courage to say, “The Galactic Council sent me to fix your problem, and that’s what I intend to do.”
He knew better than to interfere with the Council’s directives. Do what you will then Son, with my blessings,” lightning filled the sky as he left this world for another. His sudden departure caused heavy rain to fall as the clouds emptied, and the sky cried.
I traveled around the entire planet. In India, I came across a man crying while milking a cow. The sight of a grown human man crying for no apparent reason intrigued me. I stopped to observe this phenomenon. I watched as he put bowl after bowl of milk on the ground. Soon rats came and fed from one bowl and snakes from the other. The rats and snakes ignored one another while they feasted on the delicacy put out for them.
“Why do you feed rats and snakes?” I asked the crying man.
“All life is sacred to me. I know for me to live other life must die to feed me. But that life that is taken for me deserves to be respected for giving up its own life, so I can survive. But I know how callously living things are killed with no regard or respect. ” He emptied the milk bucket into the bowls and started brushing the cow with a curry comb to clean her hair.
This reminded me of when I used to do the same for my grandmother. “But why are you crying?”
“This cow is owned by a non-Hindu, and he’s sending her to be slaughtered.” He wiped tears from his eyes and left.
My eyes filled with tears when I pictured my grandma being hit on the head and having her throat slit.
The man belonged to a sect that was known as Hinduism. In this sect the cow is considered sacred and its protection is a recurrent theme of the sanctity of all life, and of the earth that gives much while asking nothing in return. Hindus respect the cow as a matriarchal figure for her gentle qualities and providing nurturing milk and its products for a largely vegetarian diet. It holds an honored place in society, and it is part of Hindu tradition to avoid the consumption of beef. I decided to make Hindus god’s chosen people, as a reward for their benevolence toward the animals that were made in the image of my grandmother. I used my godlike powers and returned to their animals what had been taken from them by humans through thousands of years of subjection and torture. The Hindu’s would profit from their loving relationship that they have had for so long with their cousins, unlike Humans elsewhere on this planet.
Soon after I returned the qualities to the cows a boy shouted, “Mom, mom, our cow spoke to me,” the little Hindu boy told his mother.
She of course didn't believe him. “What did she say to you?”
“She said her true name was Aadarshini, and she told me the world was about to change, and because we have honored her kind for so long we were to be rewarded.”
Now his mother was getting captivated as her son usually didn't construct stories.
“Let's go talk to Aadarshini,” she said, and walked to where the cow was kept.
“Hello, Vanalika,” the cow said. She couldn't believe her ears; the cow knew her name and spoke it. She fainted.
“Miracle talking cow discovered” The headlines blared around the world. The cow made the talk show circuit and was in demand everywhere. At first everyone thought it was a hoax until more and more cows started talking. When they tried to enroll their year old calves in school, the humans refused, using the technicality that they needed to be five years old before they could register. The cows started their own schools and learned in six months what it took a human a lifetime to learn.
I knew humans didn’t like the idea that the cows were smarter than them and were planning to exterminate them all. Before they could harm the peace loving cows I instilled into the cows psyche the power of telepathy so they could read the thoughts of any nearby human who meant them harm. I set it up so if and when a thought like that was recognized, an image would be sent back to the mind that originated the harmful thought. The image would be an unspeakable horror. Once the person received this image they instantly turned into a helpless blubbering blob of insane flesh and would never regain their sanity. Soon no one dared think any evil thoughts about the cows.
Now there are 3.9 billion talking cows on Earth and to keep them fed I put the next stage of my plan for revenge on these humans into motion. By now the cows ran the world’s economy and were in charge of the food supply for the entire planet.
I consulted with the cow in charge, “When humans were in charge, they ground up animal parts and fed them to other animals. I think it’s time we did the same,” I couldn’t help myself. I stroked her neck as I used to stroke my grandmother. She wasn’t upset and I think she actually enjoyed it.
“That’s a good idea. We’re ruining the environment trying to grow enough food to keep the humans fed. Some of the animals wanted to let them starve, but all us cows thought it inhumane to do so,” she flicked a fly off her back with her tail.
The cows put the humans to work building thousands of structures worldwide. All based on designs the humans had used for their slaughter houses. Psychology was used to design the structures for hiding the fact that slaughter was taking place. The entire slaughterhouse motif would be different than the old one. Set up in central cities, the facilities would be made so enticing that humans would clamor to be admitted.
I was taken on a tour by the cow in charge, “We have the humans employers tell them they’re being given a week off with pay and free of charge they get to stay at one of the new resorts. If they have children under the age of fourteen, those children will be sent to Amusement Park Camp, where they’ll be attended by benevolent certified counselors. Most parents loved the idea of getting rid of their kids for a week. We need the young ones for the choice tender meats,” she let out a long throaty moooo. This was the cow’s way of chuckling.
She continued telling me how the “resorts” were set up as we walked close to the point where the children were being loaded into the cars.
“The children line up for the Haunted Tunnel, where they’re loaded into small cars that hold six. The louder the screams from within the tunnel, the more excited the kids get, thinking how much fun they’re going to have being scared enough to scream like that,” she let out a low moo.
“So they don’t have any fear at until they’re slaughtered?” I watched as the kids eagerly jumped into the cars.
She didn’t answer my question, “The adults have three destinations to choose from,” she continued talking, “One choice is designed as a religious retreat, so those seeking salvation choose that one. Once there a holy man leads them to the door! Another is a resort area. They’re told the resort is an utopia where all laws against drug use and any other debauchery are suspended, and they can have as much or as little of any drug known to man during their stay. Once they request their drug or debauchery of choice they’re directed to the door!”
“The door?” I questioned
“I’m getting to it in just a minute. They have a third and last choice, a sin city with luxurious dance halls and hotels that give free drinks for all. And there are beautiful men and women prostitutes who never wanted to get paid, but always led their clients to the door! This door is the same as at the other two choices. Once the human walks through it, the door slams shut and sets the process in motion,” Another mooo slid through her smiling lips.
“What happens when they go through the door?” I could imagine, but I wanted to hear it from a set of cow lips.
“A noose wraps around their humans legs, lifts them onto a conveyer upside down where they get electrically shocked or hit on the head with a sledge hammer,” she showed me a switch on the floor that controlled the shocking mechanism.
“Who uses the sledge hammer on them?” I was curious as I couldn’t imagine a cow swinging a sledge.
“We set it up so all an animal has to do is step on that button,” she looked at a button on the floor that had hammer embossed in it, “As they go down the conveyer line, they have their throats slit, and then the machines pulled their skin off. The ones who aren’t dead yet screamed so loud when their skin’s ripped off, that the workers need to wear earplugs, and the human rights groups always complain about this treatment. But this is a business and we decided the line can’t be stopped to be sure each one was dead by the time they reached the skinning machines. It would be too expensive” she walked over to a trough filled with water and took a long drink.
“You’ll notice that none of the animals working at these slaughterhouses ever display any unnecessary cruelties towards the humans as the humans did when they were in charge.”
The slaughterhouses were strictly business for them, cruelty wasn’t tolerated. For now anyway, it remained to be seen if the animals would eventually be corrupted by their power and turn as cruel as the humans had been.
I travelled around the world and was satisfied with the changes I had made on Earth. Once again I was in India and I watched as the cows put buckets of milk out for the humans wandering the streets. I inquired of one cow why she did that.
“All Hindus are considered sacred and are never to be slaughtered for any reason. They’re allowed to roam the world at their pleasure and are honored by the cows where ever they happen to be,”
I wondered who milked the cow to fill the bucket, but I wasn’t going to ask.
I’m ready to return home now that I’ve solved the problem. The humans are finally doing something useful for this planet. By them becoming an abundant food supply the planet will have time to heal itself and in the future, if there’s a problem, my father can return to fix it. I wonder what he’s going to think of my solution. If he doesn’t like it, I’ll tell him to take it up with the security council. I’m out of here. I see the light bubble coming through the atmosphere and once it touches down I step inside and I’m wrapped in warm comforting light for the journey home. I’m satisfied with a job well done.