I raised my eyes to the
sky, which was grey and forbidding. And yet, as I lowered them again, I
could still see for many miles. For my vantage point was the courtyard of a
temple that sat atop a mountain. In the distance I could hear the ominous clanging
of a bell; a sound that vibrated through the mountain and thus vibrated through
me. The sound, to my senses, felt as far away as the furthest ocean, but deeper
than the roots of the lofty peaks that surrounded me.
In front of me there stood a tall priest who wore
elaborate, ceremonial robes. His bald head reflected the morbid skies, and in
his hand he held a mighty staff. “Ask your question,” he commanded me. “Ask of
me the thing that you have travelled so far to discover.”
I inhaled slowly, and asked the question. “Who
Watches the Watchers?”
In reply, the priest swung his staff around and
pointed towards another temple that also sat atop a mountain far away. “They
do!” he declared, “It is they who indeed Watch the Watchers!”
“And who Watches them?” I demanded to know.
“They do!” the priest answered me. As he spoke there
was another clap of thunder, and he moved his staff to point at another Temple
that was adjacent to the first. “They are
Watchers who watch the
Watchers Watching the Watchers!
“But perhaps you wish to see more?” he asked me,
“Then look at them!” he commanded, and a chime boomed out, making my teeth
chatter. He pointed at another temple far away which rested upon another
mountain top. “At that place live the
Watchers who observe the Watchers who watch the Watchers Watching the Watchers!
“But there is still more!” the priest proclaimed, and
pointed to yet another temple on yet another distant mountain top, as the wind
howled like a banshee with a megaphone. “For living in this place we will find
the Watchers who scrutinize the Watchers observing the Watchers who watch the
Watchers Watching the Watchers!
“And there is us,” the Priest concluded, “we who live
here, for we are the Watchers who have our eyes upon the Watchers scrutinizing
the Watchers who observe the Watchers Watching the Watchers that watch the
Watchers!”
And now, finally, I had come to the moment when I
would ask my main question. And so I drew myself up as best I could and offered
a challenge to the tall Holy Man who barred my path. “And who watches you?” I
said, my voice bordering on accusation.
There was a silence then. The weather and the gong
grew still. It was a silence that I felt in my very soul; it was a silence that
muted angels and demons, held the planets in their place and halted the
movements of the Galaxies.
And
then the priest pointed his staff at a new location.
“They do!” he revealed. And at his proclamation the
Universe came to life again, the gong gonged and the lightening thundered. He
pointed out another temple now, much nearer, the existence and sight of which I
had hitherto somehow not been aware. “For it is they,” he continued, “who
Witness the Watchers that have their eyes upon the Watchers scrutinizing the
Watchers who observe the Watchers Watching the Watchers that watch the
Watchers!”
The angels sang now, and the demons laughed. Worlds
span upon their axis, and the forces of nature compelled the atoms of reality
to obey. And the priest took a step towards me, his expression crafty. “Now I
expect you wish to know…” he gestured towards the temple that was last revealed
to me, “who watches them?”
The gong gonged, the thunder rolled, and a fork of
lightening split the heavens as though God wished to illuminate this moment and
witness it for Himself.
I scratched my chin and considered for a minute.
“Nah, I think I’ll leave it there,” I decided.
