Bohannon

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Defiant Bohannon On Trial In Syria

Published on 11/29/2005

By Pernes Tounia

Lazarus Jonah Bohannon sat before a packed courtroom of mostly sympathetic Artistopians today and denied most of the charges against him. On the charge of entering the country without a passport, Bohannon responded, “I did not enter your country. I awoke here.” Then added, “I did not enter this courtroom, either. I was dragged.” When told he could face the death penalty for perjury, he said, “Ashes to ashes. Dust to Earth. You can kill me, but when you lift a stone, I will be there. Split wood, I will be there, too.” When told of charge of creating disrespectful music, he smiled, “Guilty.” The judge looked up. “This man,” he sneered, “stands before us...” “I object,” interrupted Bohannon. The judge turned to him. “I am clearly sitting.” “Silence,” the judge hissed. “This man 'sits' before you, a stranger to this land, an intruder, an insurgent.” He paused. “A troublemaker, an untrustworthy liar, a man that would fake his own death! For what? For fleeting fame? To gain unworthy attention? To bask in the glow born of indecency and trickery?! This man is hardly a man, but an apparition! A ghost of someone else! A bugaboo!” The crowd jeered! “There Will Be Order!!” the judge screamed. He paused, clearly trying to gain his lost composure. The ceiling fans' motion complemented the shifting of his papers. He turned slowly to Bohannon, then back to the crowd. “I find the defendant guilty, on all counts.” The gallery exploded in anger. The Artistopians shouted their own defiance, surprise and dismay. The judge mustered his last bit of order and slammed the gavel just centimeters from Bohannon's hand. Bohannon seemed not to notice. The crowd was stunned to silence. “What say you?” the judge asked, obviously exhausted. Bohannon smiled up to the judge. “Thank you,” he said. “Fellow Artistopians,” he went on, addressing the crowd, “it's time for a revolution.” The courtroom again erupted, this time in cheers. His eyes beamed the light of life and creativity. The angry judge lifted and slammed his gavel into the desk, splitting the wood. Bohannon reached for one of the splinters, handed it to the judge and said “I am.” The judge slapped the wood from the defiant defendent's hand and it struck the bailiff's eye. Bohannon reached slowly over and wiped an errant speck away. The bailiff looked at Bohannon relieved and then at the judge, who admonished him with a searing stare. Bohannon continued, “Each of you has the light, the talent, the capability to change the world. Each of you has the intelligence, the smarts, the ability to know what is going on here. I ask that you remember me. That you hear me. That you forgive me. “For I am destined to be sacrificed on the altar that is this judgment. The sort of poor judgment that kills lambs and their brethren. But I will arise again. As I have already. And I want you to carry on the fight in the most creative manner you can muster. Never, ever imitate others. For they are your false gods. But be you. For you are. Just as I am. "The end is near," he added after a moment, "but so is tomorrow." He paused and smiled at the crowd, then turned to the judge, “I am done,” he said. The judge looked out into the gallery. There were sobs of sadness mingled with tears of joy. He turned to Bohannon, who looked serenely out to the crowd. The judge sighed, “You will be executed at dawn.” There may be a tomorrow but it appears the end in near for Bohannon. Pernes Tounia Syria



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Pernes Tounia Syria

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Defiant Bohannon On Trial In Syria