••• The Big Brother's, oops, i mean Apple's Gazette ••• A Sophisticated Periodical with Panache and a Sense of Humor
Have you noticed how just about everyone insisting to have ‘ reincarnated’ has either been a Queen, a King, or a person of great stature in their former lives ? It appears that servants, regular folks, those having adhered to crafts and trades don’t reincarnate.And if a servant would reincarnate he or she’d feel so intimidated by the many reincarnations of stature that he or she would be very quiet, not trying to draw attention to him or herself, feeling embarrassed and not worthy to be amongst the greats given another chance to live.
I’ve long thought about writing about that very topic, but feared i’ll embarrass myself in front of so many who’ve been kings and queens. You see, i remember each and everyone of my lives, and i appear to have had aplenty.
Perhaps the immortal Gods of Olympus, Zion, Jebel Al’Allah, Odin’s dwelling grounds, Jupiter, Saturn, not to forget Mannahatta, New York and wherever else the Gods reside, gave me several chances to grow, learn and eventually stop being a servant, ‘cuz that’s all i’ve ever been in each and everyone of my former lives. A servant.
Thus is it surprising i’ve not come forward amongst the very many who’ve already arrived here in the future, having been respected rulers, emperors, kings and queens ?
Ask yourself how you would feel realizing you’re the only servant amongst everyone who’s reincarnated. Who would want to be an outcast ?
And if it wasn’t for some of the stories i’ve read and heard about, which the former lords, rulers, etc. appear to have ‘changed’ somewhat to make themselves look better, greater, wiser and more powerful than they’d actually were, i would never have come forward. And since i was there, serving many of them, i feel it is pivotal to tell the truth.
First of all that person telling me he was Julius Caesar , a fellow i met in a park ; I knew Julius Caesar… quite well. I was his right hand, which sounds a lot better than ‘ gopher ‘ which i actually was.But i asked Jules if it’s okay i tell people i’m his right hand, since i also did his secretarial works, taking notes, correspondence, thus in short, i wrote for him ( i was his right hand, his writer ) amongst many other things. He said okay, and i felt a bit what better, being able to tell people i’m Jules’, oops, i mean Caesar’s right hand when asked. Of course i would refer to Jules as Julius Caesar in public. Privately i’d call him Jules, though.
So this person insisting he was Julius Caesar in his former life was fibbing as if he was out to win an award for fibbing. Nothing, and i mean NOTHING he told me was true or according to the way i remembered things. I didn’t tell him who i was, since obviously i looked somewhat different than i did then, though not that much different really. But i did mention my former name, Nasra, and was sure he’d remember me, but i didn’t receive a reaction, which was odd.
First i thought, how dare he didn’t remember me, then i asked the person insisting he was Julius Caesar if he remembered having a servant, a private servant.
He told me he had many servants, asking if there was anyone in particular i’d like to know about. I told him i’d like to know about his ‘ right hand ‘, his secretary, and if he remembered anything. Oh sure, he said, telling me it was a Greek fellow from Mykonos, a slave he’d bought.
WHAT ??? i hollered utterly astonished to hear him say this. How dare he didn’t remember me. Or, was he fibbing ?
Whatever i asked him he didn’t remember a single thing of actual truth and it seemed as if he was brainwashed by all the history books he’d read and started believing it himself. A Greek fellow from Mykonos ? What in the world….
Let me be blunt. I NEVER wanted to be a snitch, and i certainly never thought of revealing some secrets only he, Caesar, and i know. But when listening to this person, insisting he is Jules’s reincarnation, and never once mention me, i was hurt.
For 32 years i served this man. And though at the time i preferred to be known as his right hand rather than his gopher, i don’t mind telling anyone now that i was his gopher, because i did a LOT more for that man than just write. You bet ye.
Let it be known that if you’ll ever meet Jules’ reincarnation and he talks about everyone but me, ask him this question: WHO gave him that great hair cut ? WHO came up with that sensational coif, hm ? And if he so happens to have forgotten ( yeah right ) ask him if he doesn’t remember his servant ‘ NASRA “, thank you very much.
32 years of devoted service to this man, but did he remember me ? NO ! So much for the high and mighty. Did i ever, and i mean EVER, squeal on him at the time, talked behind his back, spread rumors like some of the other servants ? NO ! And that’s the thanks i get. It hurts. It really, really hurts.
Well, who do you think did his pedicure( he had ingrown toe nails ) and buffed up his finger nails so terrifically with a leather buffer until they were nice and shiny ? Nasra his gopher servant.
He didn’t have to have ingrown toe nails, ye know. I told him again and again, stop playing with your toenails, which he’d do when reading. Some people pick their noses when they read or concentrate, others bite their fingernails, or play with their hair. He’d sit on his couch with his legs bend, his feet to the right of him and play with his toe nails and ripped them off.
Well, eventually he started listening to me and stopped ripping them, because eventually when the toe nails grew out it really started hurting him, and i’d have to cut the nails away from the corners, thus eventually they grew straight again. But what a drag that was. Until he finally listened…….
Jules’ was very clean though.
After going on the stuhl he’d always wash his behind. Not everyone did that. A lot of man don’t. You’dbe surprised. One learns and sees a lot when a servant.
Who invented the tweezer so he could take the little fine hair from the top of his nose which always irritated him, you may wonder ? Need i say more ?
Ye know originally men all wore beards, and Jules certainly did, too. But he CONSTANTLY had ingrown hair which became a pain in the ye know what, the cheek. I told him, in order to get rid of the ingrown hair, which he was CONSTANTLY scratching ( making it worse ) i said, just shave the darn beard off- Well, i didn’t say it like that ; i said, ” Razurus el barba”, ye know, classic latin.
He did ( thank goodness he listened, …eventually ) then i took my tweezer and retrieved them little hairs irritating him. Funny was, that when people saw him without beard they thought it’s chic and ‘ sophisticated’, thus a lot of men started shaving their beard, too. It became so fashionable at the time, and some women liked it, too. Most remarkable was that the fashion spread into areas where some still dealt with lies, and flees, and shaving their beards and cutting their hair really short, ( to look like Caesar) they got rid of quite a lot of lies.
I remember when we visited some of the areas south of the mediterranean see. The homes of the bee kingdoms, where people dwelled in multiple unit homes made of brick several stories high. They never had flees, and it turned out they smoked tobacco in little stone pipes, which kept the flees away.
Word has it those people of the bee kingdoms, had brothers on other continents as well, and they, too, grew tobacco plants, smoking them in stone pipes and never had problems with flees, either. Thus, Jules thought it’s best to tell those with flees to burn some tobacco in their homes. And it worked. Soon merchants would buy tobacco in the bee kingdoms and sell it everywhere where some had flees.
See, that man i met insisting he was Julius Caesar didn’t remember any of that. But that wasn’t all. He didn’t even remember how i finally cured him of the ganglion on the top of his right foot. It wasn’t called ganglion at the time, i called it that because he walked like a lion, and ‘ gang’ is the Germanus ( brother ) word for ‘ walk, or gait. To make him feel better about that little swelling i told him he gets it because of his lion like walk.
I punctured it just a bit with a very thin needle and then covered it with some tar, and put a bandage over it.
Within a few days the tar began drawing the gel like liquid from underneath the skin while at the same time disinfecting it. Once the tar, which has a siphoning effect, drew out all the liquid, it never came back.
But did that fellow, insisting he was Caesar in his former life, remember that ? Nope. That’s the thanks one gets after 32 years of dedicated service as a gopher. Thank you very much.