nearby park or plaza; now an overworked secretary or harried boss could get away from it all for a few precious minutes of dragon-induced relaxation. For it should not be imagined that the Dragon’s Eye effect was an unpleasant or mind-addling, anaesthetizing experience. Reader, let me paint you a picture….
Envision yourself sprawled in the center of an endless, flower-carpeted meadow. A warm sun is bathing you with its golden rays, while a soft breeze caresses your brow. There is birdsong, and something else besides: an indescribable humming or soft fluting sound that gently rises and falls like swells on a calm sea. You aren’t hungry, or thirsty, or worried. You aren’t anything at all. Your consciousness, every prickly, self-absorbed, chronically nervous bit of it, is slowly and deliciously dissolving into the grass, the flowers, the birds; and all the while that haunting, half-familiar fluting is gradually growing louder, filling every fiber of your being with a powerful sense of peace and fulfillment….
Not bad for ten minutes on a park bench! As The New Yorker put it, “This is the new pot.” And, unbelievably, recreational drug use as well as alcohol consumption did decline moderately. More than one early afternoon meeting had to be rescheduled because too many of the people who were supposed to be there—weren’t.
Interestingly, it was “the least among us”, the homeless, mentally disturbed, alcoholics, and other on the periphery of our society who saw their fortunes change the most in the months following the dragons’ arrival. Not to put too fine a point upon it, since they were often unemployed and spent a lot of time in parks and public places anyway, they were in a perfect position to soak up all the beneficial effects of the Dragon’s Eye. It was really an unforgettable, eerie sight: clusters of hard-bitten, roughly-dressed men and women, people who, as Lincoln in describing himself had written “had seen a great deal of the back end of life” sitting or lying peacefully in clusters around the somnolent dragons.
In fact, they were the first ones to discover the phenomenon of “Flavor”. It turned out that although the dragons were, as noted before, seemingly physically identical, the Dragon’s Eye effect they engendered in us was not. There were subtle differences involving the length and strength of the experience, as well as in the general tone or quality. Some dragons seemed to induce a richer but slightly darker high; others a milder but brighter experience. There were other delicate variations difficult to describe to one who has not been in the Eye. The general public learned of all this when the police, parole officers, social workers and others who made it their business to keep track of such citizens noticed that their daily routines had changed, and that they could now be found in some places and not others. “Smokey, why don’t I see you near the newspaper kiosk anymore? Why are you always near the fountains now?” “Hell, Cap’n, cuz I don’t truck with no Mellow Yellow! I’m pure Red!!” And once the laughter had died down, ‘Smokey’, aided enthusiastically by his fellow brothers-of-the-bottle, duly explained the concept of Flavor.
It turned out that not only had Smokey and his pals identified a pattern but they had given names to the variations. Mellow Yellow was the dragon near the newspaper kiosk, Red the one near the fountain of this particular urban park. The animals were nothing if not creatures of habit: they evidently chose exactly the same perches every day. Each dragon’s sobriquet was fanciful but did give some rough indication of the psychic experience one could expect from spending time in close proximity to it.
Now, where there is an opportunity and motivation for a new business to appear, it usually will. The Smokeys of the world wasted no time in parlaying their connoisseurship into cold hard cash. “Now sir, what would you be wanting this fine morning?” “Well, I’ll tell you, I’ve been having some problems with my lower back—” “ Say no more! I’ve got just the thing: Sweet Dreams! This little fellow will have you turning cartwheels in no time!!” Or: “Ma’am, I don’t wish to pry but you do seem down. Might I inquire as to the nature of your trouble?” “Oh, it’s this job—I’ve been bucking for a promotion but….” The good woman might be referred to New Dawn if she wanted a real pick-me-up, or Hawaiian Surf if she just wanted to relax.
The spectrum of emotions evoked by the different dragons was not that wide; it really only ranged from a mild pleasurable sensation of lassitude to a rather more intense feeling of optimism and confidence. But it was sufficient to satisfy the customers, and to keep them coming back. Occasionally there were arguments and even altercations over who ‘owned’ a particular dragon and thus had guide rights.
Actually one would have expected far more of that sort of thing, given the unfortunate past proclivities of many of the guides. It’s true that there were more than enough beasts to go around. But more crucial was the general calming effect that the dragons were beginning to have on us. It was noticeable. Crime was dropping, and not just felony offenses like murder and robbery, but everyday punch-your-neighbor-when-you-are-drunk misdemeanors too. Life was still unsatisfactory for most of us—too much pressure, not enough time or money or opportunity-- but at least now there was an easily accessible off-ramp that allowed anyone to reduce their stress level without resorting to drugs, alcohol, or violence.
7
City halls worldwide scrambled for resources as the usage rate at their parks and public facilities skyrocketed. People wanted to be near the dragons, and not everyone was content with sitting on the ground. That meant benches, lots and lots of benches. For the Dragon’s Eye to fully take hold, the animals had to be completely visible. So structures and tree branches that might obstruct the public’s view had to be removed. This was arduous, expensive public work, and local governments grumbled, then levied bonds to cover the cost. For once, citizens paid without complaints.
At the national level, governments watched and waited, hoping that it was all just a bizarre passing phase, like hula hoops or Beatlemania. They saw our gatherings in the parks and public areas as a needless security risk: “All those people…just mixing and, and, sitting around looking at damned dragons!” And the industrialists and CEOs were none too thrilled at the loss of productivity caused by increasing numbers of people leaving work early, coming in late, or not showing up at all. But there was little the authorities and the plutocrats could do. Perhaps they started to feel slightly uneasy when they realized that none of the normal blandishments or penalties was going to have the slightest effect on us. Initially manifested in the simple act of defiance of not showing up to work, people were starting to become less docile, and less likely to just accept what was offered them.
At first going to the dragons was something you did alone; it was a slightly guilty pleasure one indulged in a bit sheepishly. But as the months wore on we gradually came to realize that there was nothing to be embarrassed about, that whatever the provenance of the dragons’ power over our sensory systems, it was both modest in scope and entirely natural.
Ahh, that is a term—natural— whose meaning has evolved even as its stock among the people has soared! Reader, will you kindly forgive an inveterate language lover for his lexicographical musings? Here are a few salient senses of the word from a pre-dragon dictionary: 1) based on the innate moral sense, instinctive; 2) constituted by nature, as in “a natural year”; 3) normal, conformable to the ordinary course of nature; 4) physically existing, not spiritual; 5) not artificial; 6) destined to be such by nature, as in “natural enemies”; 7) not enlightened or communicating by revelation. I would only point out that in a world where a five-minute walk will confront you with a creature you had always thought existed only in fables, people must inevitably expand their understandings of senses 2 and 3. Senses 4 and 7 would also inevitably shift, but that took a little longer.
To return to our story, the point is that from the beginning the people accepted the dragons’ presence, and adapted to co-existence far more rapidly and with less fuss than one would have thought possible. We gradually came to see them as—natural, as living beings which God or some as-yet unrevealed force had chosen for some reason to
put in our path.
Once we had become comfortable interacting with them as individuals, we started to involve larger groups of people. First, couples and families started to quietly plan fine weekend afternoons around “a visit to the park”, then circles of friends began to include a little Dragon’s Eye in their picnics and ball games. Schools incorporated it into their field trips; the more enlightened ones even into their curriculums. At some point we looked around and said something to the effect of “Who are we kidding? This is fun, let’s go.” We didn’t realize it then, but this was a big moment, because it marked the point when individual psychological satisfaction and social welfare, the needs of the community, came to be linked, as they had at times been in the past. Humanity had begun its long trek back from the isolating technological morass in which it had become mired.
Looking back on the entire chain of events, there is almost no part which doesn’t appear improbable, even miraculous. How was it possible for a political, socioeconomic, and military power structure that was so deeply entrenched, so firmly in control of all the