Chapter 10

Philosophical Discussion

*

"I don't think that map will do us much good after we cross Elfland," Dorothy said, as she looked at the words LARGELY UNEXPLORED which marked the area between Elfland and the Deep South Territory.

"We'll just have to take our chances," she continued. "You know, when I was here before I didn't realize that there were so many other cultures within Oz. I met a lot of Munchkins and some Quadlings, and all those other interesting people and animals and creatures. I wonder how many varieties there are?"

"There are an infinite number of lands and cultures within Oz," said the Tin Woodman. "That's what makes Oz such an interesting place. It would be a monotonous land indeed without variety. But I don't think Oz will ever be fully explored. The Great Wizard who created Oz must be quite pleased with his creation."

Dorothy looked puzzled. "You mean the Great Wizard that Glinda spoke of?"

"Oh, yes indeed." Answered the Tin Woodman. "There's only one Great Wizard. All worlds are created by him, and he loves every soul who resides in his creation: even the Wicked Witch of the Deep South."

"How could He love someone so evil?" questioned Dorothy.

"I was wondering that myself," said the Scarecrow.

"Well," said the Tin Woodman. "He must realize that she's her own worst enemy, and he's just waiting for her to catch on to that fact. I don't know why some people are so filled with hatred. As I told you, Dorothy, ever since I've had a heart I've been having a lot of feelings, and I've been trying to understand why some people have a lot of love inside them, and enjoy helping others; while some only care about themselves. Perhaps the people who can't feel love and compassion have no heart at all."

"Or perhaps something happens to them that causes their heart to harden," said the Lion.

"Not to change the subject," said the Scarecrow. "But I've been reading about the creation of mortals. There are lots of books on the subject, and sometimes the books contradict one another. Some talk about the slow evolution of tiny simple organisms into large complex organisms. While others talk of the instantaneous creation of complex organisms, for example, Adam and Eve -- who were, supposedly, the very first mortals. It's all very complicated.

"Well," said the Tin Woodman. "You don't have to accept everything you read; you have to form your own opinion. That's why you've got a brain. Books are just people's ideas, No one can really prove anything. Even scientists differ in their analysis of the same evidence.

"That's correct," said the Scarecrow. "Ever since I got my brain, I've been thinking a lot. And some of the things I've read, I agree with, and some I don't agree with. I know some people who have read only one book in which the creation of mortals is explained, and they say that version is true because the people who wrote it were inspired by the Great Wizard."

"I haven't thought a lot about it," said Dorothy. "But I think people should read all the books written on a given subject before drawing a conclusion. Even if they didn't accept everything they read, they would at least be stimulated by the many ideas put forth. I've heard that people who have a long established belief about something will often refuse to study all the available literature on the subject, but will close their minds off completely. They have made their minds up as to the truth of the matter, and don't want to hear another word on the subject."

"Truth is where you find it," said the Tin Woodman.

"What does that mean?" said the Scarecrow.

"Isn't that the point of the whole thing?" said Dorothy. "Since no one really knows for sure what is totally true or not true, we owe it to ourselves not to be satisfied with what is told to us, but to question and to search for ourselves. In other words, continue the search for truth all of our lives with an open mind."

"But, as Scarecrow said, it is confusing to read all those different ideas about things?" said the Lion.

"It can be," said the Tin Woodman. "But whatever we read, we must learn to discern deep within ourselves what is true and what is not true, and then to ask the Great Wizard's guidance for the ultimate answers. After all; if he knows all Truth, he is going to guide us to it if we ask him. But he won't force it on us."

"How do we know if he can hear us, or even that he exists if no one has seen him?" the Lion said.

"Well," interceded the Tin Woodman, "from all that I've read, people throughout history have heard him speak. But to be able to hear him, we have to go into a very quiet state within ourselves every day, and learn to communicate with him."

"How do we do that?" asked the Lion, still recalling the traditional tale of Lurline.

"Well, I've been doing it for some time," said the Tin Woodman, "and although I haven't actually heard a voice yet, I often receive answers to my questions in symbolic form, which I am told is the language of the soul."

"Can you describe it to us?" said the Lion.

"Of course," said the Tin Woodman. "But you know, we have talked here for a long time. We really must get underway if we are to accomplish our mission. I'll tell you what happened when we get to Colorland. We'll stay overnight in the Yellow Belt and I'll explain everything."

"Why the Yellow Belt?" asked Dorothy.

"Well, the color vibration of yellow is very conductive to learning. The Winkies always subconsciously knew this. In fact, when you take a test at school, be sure to wear yellow and you'll do very well on your test."

"Really?" said Dorothy. "I must remember that."

"Now then, everybody up," said the Lion. "Let's be on our way. We can take the Girrephalumps as far as Octapongland. After that we'll have to walk."

With that, the Girrephalumps sat down so everyone could climb aboard. The leading Girrephalump, who belonged to Dorothy, turned his head to her as she climbed aboard and said, "Forgive me if I don't talk, but I have a sore throat. Mind you, none of us care to talk much," he continued. "We have such long and delicate throats that we have to take the utmost care that we don't overdo things."

"That's quite all right," replied Dorothy. "I do hope you feel better soon."

"Oh, I shall. Don't worry," said the Girrephalump. "When I return from this trip, I will take a short vacation. I can't take too long or I'll get too far behind with my other work."

"What other work do you do?" asked Dorothy.

"Well," said the Girrephalump, "as I told you before, besides being part of the main transportation system in Oz, we are required to change the streetlight bulbs when they burn out, and to keep all the upstairs windows clean. If we get too far behind, people can't see out of their upstairs windows in the daytime; and when they're out at night they can't see what they're doing, so it's important work that we do."

"It is indeed," said Dorothy. "How long will it be before we get to Octapongland?" she asked.

"Well, I can see it in the distance already," said the Girrephalump. "But it's still quite a way off. We'll probably be there by nightfall."

"Have you seen the Octapong before?" said Dorothy.

"Oh, I've seen them all right, answered the Girrephalump, 'course they don't bother me, since I don't wear shoes."

"You see, the trouble is," he continued "their one shoe gets a lot of wear and tear, clippity-clopping along all day, and production simply can't keep up with demand."

"So they have to steal other people's shoes?" interceded Dorothy.

"That's just about it," said the Girrephalump.

"Well I think it's disgusting," the girl said angrily. "Why do people have to go around stealing other people's things? How would they like it if someone stole from them?"

"They probably wouldn't like it at all," said the Girrephalump.

"They should learn the Golden Rule," said Dorothy.

"What's the Golden Rule?" asked the Girrephalump.

"/Do unto others as you would have others do unto you/," she quoted.

"That's a good rule," said the Girrephalump.

"If everyone lived by it, no one would steal anything from anyone," said Dorothy. And no one would hurt anyone either."

"That's amazing!" said the Girrephalump.

"What is?" said Dorothy.

"Why, if that one rule were practiced by everyone it would make the mortal lands a beautiful place to live as well as to visit."

"It would indeed," said Dorothy. "If every single individual followed that one simple rule, we could unlock all of our locks and throw all the keys away."

"And you could melt down all of your guns," said the Girrephalump. "Don't mortals understand that?"

"Oh, they understand all right," said Dorothy. "But many just don't want to live by that rule."

"Perhaps if they were taught these things as children...."

"Some children don't want to live by that rule either," she replied.

"I can't imagine why anyone wouldn't want to," replied the Girrephalump. "Think how happy they would all be -- with each mortal having nothing to fear from another, just treating each other with kindness and respect. Why, it would be heavenly. Don't your people want to be happy?"

"I'm sure everyone wants to be truly happy," said Dorothy. "But it's the nature of some to find a twisted kind of happiness in hurting others. Some even steal from others to get money to buy chemicals for their mind, for example."

"Now I'm really confused," said the Girrephalump. "Chemicals for their mind?"

"Yes," said Dorothy, realizing that she had more awareness of these issues than would be considered strictly proper for a child of her age and background. "You see," she continued, "if a person is unable to find happiness within himself, or in his home, school, work or social environment, he may try to buy some synthetic happiness in the form of certain chemicals called drugs."

"Good gracious!" was all the Girrephalump could say.

"Yes, it's very sad," said Dorothy. "But the happiness they feel is not true, so when the effects of the chemical wear off they feel even worse than before. Then, in a desperate effort to feel better again, they take even more chemicals. Of course, they are doomed to repeat the cycle over and over. This causes great anguish -- not only for themselves -- but for their family and friends."

"How frightening!" gasped the Girrephalump.

"Yes, it's an awful, awful thing," said Dorothy. "Now the chemical is the master. It now directs the person's life. He or she has lost control, and is now a slave to this new master. Not only that, some of these chemicals can affect the brain in such a way as to cause the person to do awful things to other people, or to themselves. At the very least their personality becomes distorted: they can have terrible mood swings, and their natural drive and creative ability severely diminished. Sometimes seizures, or even death can occur."

"Can't anyone stop all this?" said the Girrephalump. "Why do people make these chemicals and sell them?"

"For money," said Dorothy. "They love money so much, they don't care who gets hurt."

"Thank goodness I don't have to live in your mortal lands," said the Girrephalump.

"Well, it's not all bad," said Dorothy. "There are many kind and wonderful people there -- like Aunt Em and Uncle Henry. It's just the few that spoil things for the many."

"It still seems to me that the place to start is with the little children," said the Girrephalump. "If mortals were taught kindness and love and gentleness and understanding, and all of these things as children, the world would be a very happy place when they grew up, and they could teach their children the same things. Then, by the time they grew up, all the bad adults would have died off."

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," said Dorothy. "Some parents are full of hate and resentment, or show contempt for other races or creeds by the way they talk. This all influences the children."

"Why can't the schools teach the children differently?"

"I'm sure they do their best," said Dorothy, "but they are busy teaching reading, writing and arithmetic."

"Well, I don't see much hope," said the Girrephalump.

"Yes, mortals are sort of locked into their ways of thinking," said Dorothy.

"Perhaps when you get back to Kansas, you could write a book about your experiences in Oz," said the Girrephalump. "Then children who read it will know that there's a place where no one really hurts anyone. And perhaps they will treat each other a lot better. And when they grow up they will be loving and kind to one another too, so that your country will be as happy a place as Oz."

"That's an excellent idea," said Dorothy, though she knew that she was far too young to write a whole book by herself and would have to confide in an adult for help.

"Well, here we are at Octapongland," said the Girrephalump. "My, I've talked a lot," he said. "And do you know, my throat isn't sore."

"That's wonderful," replied Dorothy.

"I really enjoyed meeting you, Dorothy," he said. "I've learned a lot. I hope I'll see you again soon."

Dorothy put her arms around his neck and kissed him. He sat down slowly while Dorothy slid down his back to the ground.

"Now everyone stick close together," called out the lion, and walk quickly. The Octapong are very sneaky, so be alert."

*