"Woe unto us. For we have loved the word of the foolishness than the word of the wise. We have loved the word of the fool more than the wisdom of the prophet". -Solomon
I really loved the stories of King Solomon and The Queen of Sheeba. A lot of quotable passages from those two, words that I will definitely keep with me to live by. And the relationship that grew between the two of them base off of a love for one another's knowledge and wisdom. That was a beautiful thing to read about.
But, most of all I loved the stories that the editor/author relays about the Rasta men of Jamaica and the stories they tell him. I've always loved talking with Rastas because the way they simplify their words and sentences leaving what they say to be straight to the point but still packed with so much wisdom and truth. I say all the time that if Genies were really I'd want mine to be a Rasta man that pops up when I rub my mason jar full of weed. Their patios is poet to me and blends well with the knowledge and wisdom that they have, which exist mostly outside of conventional(Western/American) wisdom.
The story I loved the most was that between the editor/author and a "madman" named Runaway.
He and Runaway were not on the best of terms with each other because Runaway was a man with a mental-illness and he was always out in the street shouting about his hate for white men and specifically the editor/author, who is a white man. They never spoke to each other until a moment when Runways caught the editor/author with his back against a wall and holding a machete to his face ready to end him. The editor/author takes it upon himself to apologize to Runaway for never taking the time to speak to him (because he's a madman) all the years they crossed paths in town.
Saying, "Runaway, I am told that you are a kind and gentle soul. Why, I ask myself, over all of these years that we have seen one another, have I not gone forward to meet you? Why have I not come out so that we might speak to one another, man to man? I haven't an answer any more than you have an answer now for the thing you are doing- pushing a knife into the belly of your brother."
Runaway ended up lowering the machete and started to apologize to the man. Feeling touched that he was finally being seen as a human and not just a man with a mental-illness to be ignored.
What really topped this story off for me was what the editor/author's friend said after hearing about the incident.
Raggy said, "Even the dead have something to say, but a madman is no more mad than hungry. Give him a bowl of rice, and his tongue will work on food rather than insult. Enough people in this land just want to live. We go along everyday, taking this life for granted. Give thanks and praises for life, mon. Don't bow your head. Don't look down at your portion. Look up into the eyes of the man next to you, for that individual could be God himself. Yes, it is just so."
The editor/author closes this story with reflection saying, "We walk so thin a line, I think, between the dead and the mad, that our lives are made of nothing so dense as flesh nor so light as Spirit. We are made of each, but the choice is ours whether, as Bob Marley said, we wish to be as light as a feather or as heavy as lead, whether we wish to live in heaven or hell, whether we wish to sing with the angels or dance with the devils. The choice is ours."
That passage alone really touched me and helped me gather up a greater understanding of what is meant when Rastas say "I and I".
One Rasta man, Benji in another story in the book concludes, "Man and Jah(God/High-Spirit), together, in this flesh, in this moment. The only angel we'll ever need."