: My Life and My Efforts by May Karl Olesch Gunther Translator - May Karl Friedrich 1842-1912; Authors German 19th century Biography

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If someone should go in a straight line from the earth to the sun within three months and proceed beyond the sun for another three months into the same direction, he would reach a star named Sitara. Sitara is a Persarabian word, meaning nothing more than "star".

This refers to the now outdated old German geographic mile, which had a length of 4.6126 statute miles. Thus, Sitara has precisely the same size as Earth.

Down below, Ardistan is ruled by a line of vile thinking, selfish tyrants, whose most supreme law reads mercilessly short: "YOU SHALL BE YOUR NEIGHBOUR'S DEVIL, SO THAT YOU SHALL BECOME YOUR OWN ANGEL!" And high above, Jinnistan was ruled for countless ages by a dynasty of generous, genuinely royal-minded regents, whose most supreme law reads delightfully short: "YOU SHALL BE YOUR NEIGHBOUR'S ANGEL, SO THAT YOU SHALL NOT BECOME YOUR OWN DEVIL!"

And for as long as this Jinnistan, this land of the nobly spirited people, exists, every citizen had been required to be secretly, without exposing him- or herself, the guardian angel of one other person. So, there is happiness and sunshine for Jinnistan, but in Ardistan, there is just a deep spiritual darkness and the forbidden, and therefore secret, lamentation for liberation from this hell! No wonder that down there, in the lowland, an ever growing desire for the highland developed! No wonder, that the more evolved ones of the souls there sought to free themselves from the darkness and sought redemption! Millions and millions enjoy life in the morasses of Ardistan. They have grown used to the miasmas. They do not want to have it any other way. They would not be able to exist in the clean air of Jinnistan. These are by no means just the poorest and lowest, but even more so the richest and most distinguished inhabitants of the land: the pharisees, who need sinners in order to appear righteous, the prosperous, who require poor people for contrast, the lazy ones, who must have workers for their convenience, and most of all the smart, cunning ones, for whom the stupid, trusting, honest ones are indispensable, to be exploited by them. What would happen to all those privileged ones, if the others were not to exist any more? Therefore, everyone is most strictly forbidden, to leave Ardistan and to escape the pressure of its laws. But the harshest punishment is inflicted upon him who dares to flee to the land of neighbourly love and humanity, to Jinnistan. The border is guarded. He will not get through. He will be apprehended and brought to the "spirits' furnace", to be tortured and tormented, until the pain forces him to beg for forgiveness and to return to the hated oppression.

This is because, between Ardistan and Jinnistan, there is Maerdistan, that steeply ascending strip of jungle where the infinitely dangerous and strenuous way up passes through its labyrinths of trees and rocks. Maerd is a Persian word; it means "man". Maerdistan is the frontier land, where only "men" may dare to venture; anybody else would necessarily perish. The most dangerous part of this almost entirely unknown area is the "forest of Kulub". Kulub is an Arabian word. It means the plural of "heart". Thus, the enemies who have to be conquered one by one, if one would want to escape from Ardistan to Jinnistan, lurk in the depths of the heart. And in the midst of this forest of Kulub, that place of torture is to be found, about which I have written in "Babel and Bible", page 78:

"In Maerdistan, the forest of Kulub, Lies lonely, hidden well, the spirits' furnace." "Do spirits forge there?"

"No, but they are forged! Storms bring them, drag them, here at midnight's time, When lightnings light the sky, tears pour like floods, Where hatred comes on them in grim delight, And envy digs its claws into the flesh. Remorse will sweat and wail where bellows blow. The pain is by the block with staring eyes, A blackened face, the hammer in his hand. There, now, o sheik, the pliers grab you fast. They toss you to the blaze; the bellows creak. The flame flares upwards, far beyond the roof, And all that you possess and what you are, The flesh, the mind, the soul, and all the bones, The sinews, fibres, tendons, flesh and blood, The thoughts and feelings, everything and all, Is burnt from you, is tortured and tormented Up to the whitest blaze - - -"

"Allah, Allah!" "Don't scream, o sheik! I'm telling you, don't scream! For screamers are unworthy of this pain, Are thrown away to be the dross and refuse And must, at last, be molten down again. But you would want to be the steel, a blade That glistens in the paraklet's own fist. Be quiet, thus!

"He rips you from the fire - - He casts you on the anvil - - holds you tight. It clangs and cracks on you in every pore. The pain will start its work, the smith, the expert. He spits into his fists, and then he grasps, Lifts with both hands, the giant hammer up - - - The blows do strike. Each blow is like a murder, A murder killing you. You think you're crushed. Hot scraps spew widely, everywhere around. Your self gets thinner, smaller, even smaller, And yet, you must go back into the fire - - Again - - and yet again, until the smith Will see the spirit in hell's agony, Through all the gloom of soot and hammers' blows, Who smiles at him in calm and grateful joy. This one is fixed into the vice and ground. The file does screech, and eats away from you Whatever still - - -"

"Desist! It is enough!" "It does go on, for now the drill is used, It spirals deeply - - -" "Silence! Oh, for God's sake!" etc. etc.

parakletos : a person called to one's aid, especially to intercede before God, used in John 14-16 for the Holy Spirit and in 1John 2:1 for Jesus Christ .

So this is how Maerdistan is like, and this is what is going on inside the "spirits' furnace of Kulub"! Every inhabitant of Sitara knows the tale which says that the souls of all important people, who are to be born, are sent down from heaven. Angels and devils are waiting for them. A soul who is so fortunate to come across an angel will be born in Jinnistan, and all of its paths are smoothened. But the poor soul who falls into the hands of a devil will be dragged to Ardistan by him, and hurled into an even deeper misery, the higher the task was which the soul had been given from above. The devil wants it to perish and rests neither day nor night to turn him, who was destined to be gifted or ingenious, into a rotten and doomed individual. All resistance and rebellion is futile; the poor soul is doomed. And even if he succeeded in escaping from Ardistan, he would still be apprehended in Maerdistan and dragged to the spirits' furnace, to be tortured and tormented, until he loses his last bit of courage to resist.

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