When the first half of the human race had passed through the Confidence Portal, they all returned home and went about their business feeling great, relaxed, fulfilled and somehow more something. The second half of the human race, which had now passed through what had become the Arrogance Portal, in which a great splash of hubris was added to the mix, these did not go home, but proceeded to search for a palace with a golf course in the vicinity.
The Blue Knight woke the Spotlight from his reverie at the controlling dials.
What have you done! He cried, Now we will have to round up the arrogant half and surgically remove the hubris. Luckily this can be done through a keyhole without anaesthetic, which saves time and doesn’t trouble the scorers. You don’t even have to open the door.
I’ll go and round them up, said Spot sleepily, Sorry about that.
The Spotlight and his minions took their quad bikes onto the hills, and circling the human herd whilst shouting. They marshalled the relevant half down, across the green hills and darkened valleys, to contain them in a shopping mall, using working dogs that were always black and white and very enthusiastic.
There, they made up a corral with driftwood from the beach and thorn bushes from the savannah, with an single exit strategy, which took the frightened humans through a small tank of blue dipping solution, to counteract the rising anger.
The Blue Knight stood by the Dipping section and made certain that each candidate passed fully under the dense frothing liquid by pushing them under with his shepherd’s crook. Each candidate was then marked on the ear with an numbered earing to denote. That is why, to this very day, earrings have become so popular that some folks need two.
When they came out the other end, their heads shining wet and their clothes streaming, they circled the release enclosure looking confused and ready to go shopping.
The dipping solution, now choc full of hubris, became rank and file, so they drained it into rusting barrels and paid someone to hide it under the stairs.
We can’t do that, said the Blue Knight, It must be disposed of in an responsible manner.
Perhaps we could syphon it into an underground compartment to fester or store it in lead lined concrete compartments for eternity?
No, he said, That we will not. We will have to jettison it into the sun where it will be broken down into its constituent emotions and motivations. At least in the sun it will provide fuel to the fire.
They loaded the tanks of dissolved hubris onto a rail freight train and exported it with accompanying flashing symbols and an armed cohort to the nearest space vehicle despatch zone.
Back in the shopping mall, where half the humans had come to rest, the floors and walls became smoother and more shiny than ever before. The machines and scrubbing crews labouring night and day and night to maintain a dust free environment.
The people pressed their nose against the glass, the better to examine the wonders inside. Electric trousers, Integrated fruit systems, Exotic under garments designed by algorithms to fry individual synapses, Wireless trainers, Children’s wear, Dog’s wear, Ready prepared banquets, Avocados from space, Raspberries grown in undersea gardens, Flowers that never die, Passports for the uninitiated and Packets of dried undergrowth, all in pleasant rows at eye level, on the glossy shelves, with prices in tiny figures somewhere nearby.
They were not upset at all because it was all promised to be delivered the next day, before dawn, in personalised camions with pictures of enormous vegetables emblazoned. They couldn’t fit the actual giant vegetables into the vans and so artists, lured from their under-resourced garrets, were whipped into a frenzy using unwanted money and persuaded to exact vast murals of improbable foods, which dripped and glistened unctuously all over town. The delivery drivers were never angry, unless they got less than ten stars on the attendant seventeen follow-up emails.
The shoppers sucked on lumps of processed sugar for lunch and had to be scraped off the ceiling and sent to bed early.
The Blue Knight and his co workers came down out the hills to their spring loaded fields, where the Thread, feeling a little sidelined, awaited.
We have lost the Plot, said the Blue Knight to the Spotlight, picking up the thread where it lay, Let us resume our quest.
The Guardians of the Cave 