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A man has been in business for many, many years and the business is going down the drain. He is seriously contemplating suicide and he doesn’t know what to do. He goes to the Priest to seek his advice. He tells the Priest about all of his problems in the business and asks the Priest what he should do.

The Priest says “Take a beach chair and a bible and put them in your car and drive down to the edge of the ocean. Go to the water’s edge. Take the beach chair out of the car, sit on it and take the Bible out and open it up. The wind will rifle the pages for a while and eventually the Bible will stay open at a particular page. Read the Bible and it will tell you what to do.”

The man does as he is told. He places a beach chair and a Bible in his car and drives down to the beach. He sits on the chair at the water’s edge and opens the Bible. The wind rifles the pages of the Bible and then stops at a particular page. He looks down at the Bible and sees what he has to do.

Three months later the man and his family come back to see the Priest. The man is wearing a $1,000 Italian suit, The wife is all decked out with a full-length mink coat and the child is dressed in beautiful silk. The man hands the Priest a thick envelope full of money and tells him that he wants to donate this money to the church in order to thank the Priest for his wonderful advice.

The Priest is delighted. He recognizes the man and asks him what advice in the bible brought this good fortune to him.

The man replies: “Chapter 11.”

Una hermosa mujer estaba paseando por un �rea rural, cuando vio una huerta y se le ocurri� entrar. Ya dentro, encontr� una hermosa piscina y, como no se ve�a nadie alrededor, decidi� nada totalmente desnuda. As� que vio para todos lados, no vio a nadie y se desvisti�. Cuando estaba a punto de tirarse al agua, apareci� el due�o de la huerta, que hab�a estado escondido todo el tiempo detr�s de unos arbustos y le dijo que estaba prohibido nadar.

“�Pod�a haberme dicho eso antes de que me desvistiera!”, le reclam� ella.

“�Est� prohibido nadar, pero no desvestirse!”

May 5, 1863 — Here on the frontier, I sometimes wonder if the ancients were right. With no other friendly face within 150 miles, it seems as if I have fallen off the edge of the Earth. I spend my time now reading what books I have and cultivating my patch of cucumbers (which I brought back from the Holy Land, cf. Prince of Thieves). The “purpose” of this fort, to hold back the Indians, has fallen away with my civilized veneer.

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May 7, 1863 — This morning I had an interesting and silent encounter. One of the tribe of Indians nearby watched me perform my morning tasks and then left without a word. I am excited by the prospect of contact with the natives of the area.

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May 20, 1863 — I have finally convinced the Indians to parlay with me. I taught them the word for “fort”, feeling that it would be simple enough for them to learn. They in turn taught me the Indian word “titonka”, apparently a small but tough, powerfully merchandised horseless carriage of metal construction. I envy these people their simplicity.

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June 7, 1863 — Today I visited the Indians’ village. It is on one of the many flat-topped plateaus in the area. As the decline of the buffalo proceeds, so too does this Indian tribe face decline. I will try to teach them agriculture. They have also told me their name for themselves. It is “Anasazi”… which apparently means “people called Anasazi” in their language. I am called by them “Stinchapecsal” which means “he who should bathe more regularly”.

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July 8, 1863 — A rude awakening. The Indians are fully aware of agriculture and in fact have nothing to do with the buffalo (what kind of nomadic tribe would build a village on a mesa?); unfortunately, they are suffering a drought. Knowing a remedy, I have told them to dig a ditch from the nearby stream up the mountainside to their mesa-top fields. In the meantime, I am pickling my cucumbers.

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July 20, 1863 — The drought is desperate, but the ditch is finished and my pickles are ready. I am lining the ditch with pickles. The Anasazi are doubtful, but I have promised them results in the morning.

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July 21, 1863 — Success! The stream has been diverted and now flows up the mountainside to the Anasazi fields. Amazed by this seeming magic, I told them that it was simply a well-known fact in my world. After all, everyone knows that “dill waters run steep”.