The grouch, in his despondency, ceded control of the ship. Andy and Gary picked up captaincy happily. They steered the ship out of South America and toward Western Europe.
Unfortunately, though the grouch was despondent, that did not mean he was trusting. He directed the ship up the Mississippi River toward Cahokia, the largest settlement on the river – recall this all happened – and into the Great Lakes. They traveled even more northward and coldward to Niagara Falls, where they got their pictures taken, and then made their way east. From there they sailed and sailed, with no end in sight; finally, they saw shore.
Not trusting his more violent companions, the grouch solely disembarked. The grouch asked the first man he saw where they were. The man straightened himself from the act of hoeing, tilted his straw hat up, and learned on his hoe, whose head was an inch-deep into a rice paddy.
They were in China.
They figured they might as well go all the way west.
They entered the Yellow River, only to be spat out.
Andy and Gary petitioned to the Yellow Emperor to build dams. The emperor liked the idea, as controlling the waterways would allow a consistent flow of grain and other goods to the capital. However, great reserves of political power would be needed to undertake this troublesome project.
Not to worry, the machines said. Tell the people you descended from heaven; you are, in fact, God; no one may eat, until order is maintained; order is harmony; order is salvation; order is wealth; kill all those who oppose you, and their children, and their distant cousins, even five branches away too; suffer no one’s advice; ensure the populace fears you more than they respect you; bury the best men with you upon your death, to deprive the land of competent successors, and people who would alter your invincible legacy; and you will have well-dammed rivers.
And this worked.
The crew entered the Yellow River, arriving at Chengzhou. There they met an old man, whose grey beard reached his knees. The man told them his name was Laozi, and he was about to leave the city.
Shall you leave through the mountain path, entering the realm of the barbarians?
I don’t speak barbarian. I intend to self-exile at sea.
They figured it didn’t hurt to take him with them.
They traveled to the state of Lu, where they saw, at the shore, a despondent man. On sighting their ship, he waved his hands and hollered, begging them to let him onboard.
The exile groaned. He begged them not to take him on.
Why? Do you know him?
He likes to believe he knows everything.
The know-it-all explained, through shrieks, that no one appreciated his intellect and, most importantly, no one would give him a salary for his genius.
Andy called out, What is your name?
The know-it-all answered, Confucius.
It did not hurt to let him onboard too.
As soon as he stepped onboard he cried, What! You have this idiot traveling with you? He gesticulated wildly at the exile, who merely glared at the know-it-all defiantly and lazily. Up you go, old man, the know-it-all barked, grabbing the exile by the collar – at least, what could be called a collar on his rags. Why you -! the exile cried, and pulled at the know-it-all's beard; the know-it-all twisted the exile’s nipples; hot tears streaked down the exile’s cheeks; he then tugged at the know-it-all's tongue. Uncle! Uncle! he cried. The exile relented, feeling he had proven himself as China’s greatest and best philosopher.
Then the know-it-all, with a mighty shout, rammed into the exile, toppling him into the Yellow River.
They were one-up now.
Andy and Gary could not fathom how two individuals, so similar to the other, could argue over nothing.
The crew continued traveling west. They entered the Brahmaputra, sailing through the Ganges. They saw a young man sighing underneath a lotus tree.
Andy asked him why he sighed so.
I have all the riches in the world, and all the women who have ever met me love me, but I don’t feel any contentment. I would like to see more of the world, to know the words to express my pain.
Andy asked what his name was.
At birth I was given the name Siddhartha, but my friends call me Buddha.
The crew accepted the despondent, and then left India through the Arabian Sea. They continued moving eastward, entering the Persian Gulf.
They saw a man meditating deeply on the shore. Andy, as he had the others, called out to him, asking who he was.
The man answered, My name is Zoroaster. I was thinking on the complexity of the universe.
What were you thinking of?
The thinker said, I believe the good, is good, and the bad is bad.
Andy and Gary looked at one another. Well, duh.
The thinker, a humble man, did not feel harm from his shame, and asked to join the crew to learn about the world. As his duties to the queen were settled, the crew accepted him.
The exile and the know-it-all sweated bullets. They did not think the good was good and the bad was bad, they thought everything was relative.
© 2025 Jay Lee