The cynic and the fool

(This article originally appeared nowhere)

Hoopi was an odd fellow. He was tall and lanky and walked with a stoop, his arms swinging awkwardly, like palm fronds in the breeze. He also had incredibly hairy ears that stuck out like the wings of a hoopoe bird. Hence his nickname. His real name was Gaddi, son of Gideon, from the tribe of Benjamin, but no-one ever called him that. It was always Hoopi, not just for his looks but, just as with his namesake, he was forever chattering in a birdlike manner. Words tumbled out of his mouth in short staccato bursts, usually lubricated with dribble. If this was not bad enough, the words were generally not nice ones, in fact it was said that every other one was a lie or an exaggeration. He was an incredibly unpopular chap and most people avoided him when they could.

Moses had been gone for some time, the grey smoke around the mountain peak a visible reminder that God wasn't yet done with him. Meanwhile the children of Israel were getting impatient and fidgety, none more so than Hoopi. He took it upon himself to promote his views, circuiting the camp and speaking to all who would listen.

"Moses has abandoned us", he said to Yossi, the boss eyed son of Susa. "He's gone back to Egypt, I tell you. Filling his belly no doubt!" Yossi was speechless, his mouth full of manna at the time.

"We had food back in Egypt, good food", he moaned at Shlomo the stiff-necked. "We broke our backs in Egypt as slaves, Hoopi", answered the other to no avail. Hoopi had already moved on.

"What sort of life is this?" he grizzled at Eli the muddle-tongued. "Nothing decent to eat. Just manna, manna, manna! Don't you just dream of nice succulent lamb?" Eli was miffed. "You thould be grateful for Godth merthies, Hoopi. Manna ith thucculent enough for me", he lisped. Hoopi just shrugged his shoulders and moved on.

"Why can nobody see?" he complained at a group of Gadites. "What has God done for us? Nothing, I tell you!" The others just turned their back on him, muttering among themselves. Hoopi threw his arms up in exasperation, a comical sight totally at odds with what he saw as his serious mission to wake people up to realities, as he saw them.

Manasseh was another odd-ball, but an altogether more harmless one. He was slow witted and found it difficult getting his words out in time to keep the attention of his companions. Because of this he tended to use very short sentences, usually no more than two or three words, which was usually enough to get him through the day. He was loitering at the camel pen when he noticed the lonely figure of Hoopi, sitting by a palm tree muttering to himself. He shuffled over and sat on a grassy mound, watching the strange angular person who seemed lost in a world of his own. Hoopi looked up.

"And what do you want?" rasped Hoopi, hiding his surprise that someone was actually taking notice of him.

"Just … sitting."

"Sitting, eh? You know who I am don't you?"

"Hoo …" Manasseh struggled to get the word out, but was interrupted.

"My name's Gaddi, I'm a free thinker," spluttered Hoopi, sensing a fresh audience for his views.

Manasseh stretched his hand out in a greeting, "Mana …"

"No, no. Hate the stuff. Would rather starve", interrupted Hoopi. Manasseh withdrew his hand and sat there puzzled for a while, until he realized the misunderstanding.

"Manna … is …good."

"Good? Good! Don't make me laugh. It tastes like string. Don't you think our munificent God could have done better and at least given us some variety? I ask you …"

It was Manasseh's turn to interrupt.

"God … is … good." He made a massive effort to finish his speech and his determination got him through. "He … loves … us!"

"What do you know? Don't know why I'm wasting my words on you, really. There's plenty more out there who would listen, you know."

"Moses … is … good", added Manasseh, glancing up at the shrouded Mount Sinai in the distance.

"Moses is just out for himself. But I don't expect you to understand."

"Do … understand … you … don't."

Hoopi was now annoyed. How dare this person talk down to him. He stood up suddenly, using his height to intimidate the other. Manasseh did the same. Although a full head shorter, he stood his ground and fixed the other with a gaze that betrayed a spirit that words tended to hide.

Hoopi broke the standoff with the most cutting remark he could muster. With outstretched fingers he pointed at his own head and proudly proclaimed, "You need one of these to understand the World, simpleton."

Manasseh never once took his eyes off him as he spoke. He lifted his right hand and placed it on his chest, over his heart. With a massive burst of concentration he blurted out the longest sentence he had ever constructed. "And … you … need … one … of … these … to understand … God … Hoopi!"

The last word told Hoopi that his reputation had preceded him. Even this fool had heard of him. And this fool had done what no-one had done before. He had left him speechless.

Manasseh walked away, proudly. As he looked up at the cloudy mountain he was sure that he felt a gentle warm breeze that seemed to pass right through him.