The World of Perakee
I have told some of where the knowledge of Perakee came from and how it came to me. I told those stories, which are part of the page on this site entitled The Basics, on an online discussion board. Because of the stated purpose of that site I was not able to tell the whole story. The reason I was given the knowledge was on account of my being born with Simian lines. But of the body of knowledge known as the Legend of Perakee, only a small portion pertains specifically to the Simian lines.
Most of the Perakee Tradition could be called simple psychology, or lessons about the right way to live, or views of how humans interact with themselves and each other. The original Perakee viewed folks with Simian lines as having been chosen by the Great Spirit to be leaders among men, not necessarily leaders of men. And so the stories are meant not only to help Perakee find and maintain balance in their own lives, but to help them understand humans in general in order to fulfill obligations in place before they were born.
I think you have already seen this. The stories about the Wells, the Energies, the Colors of the Rainbow, and how Mahakah use their energies differently from Perakee really have nothing to do with the Simian lines, per se, and it was only with the patient indulgence of the discussion board’s owner that I was able to go into those areas as far as I did.
But the creation of this site has caused me some sleepless nights for a very different reason. Now, at this point in time, the history of the Legend of Perakee will be changed forever.
Since the creation of this body of knowledge, for thousands of years if my grandpa was correct, the stories have been passed from mouth to ear. They passed from Perakee to Perakee down our line. The stories were told to people of the village as well as passing strangers. Anyone who wanted to was free to listen to them and use them in life as they saw fit. Other villages brought their Perakee children to the Bo village to be taught. And when there were more than one Perakee in the village, the younger would travel in search of other villages that could use their help. In this way, the Legend of Perakee was spread all across the Americas.
Now the Legend of Perakee will spread all across the world.
I have passed on bits and pieces of the Legend in poetry and song since 1981. Mostly people would say something like: “I really like that poem,” or “I really like the song.” Sometimes someone would ask what it meant, and that would give me a chance to expound on where the words came from. Occasionally someone would be pointed out by omens to me, and we would walk together a ways, going deeper and deeper into the knowledge. I always built stories that they could grasp in order to teach them certain things.
By posting on the world wide web, I will not be able to look into the eyes of those I am talking to. It is kind of like shooting a shotgun toward a noise at night and hoping you hit something. There is no way to determine a person’s intent when he asks for more information, or where he is at in his development. So this indeed may be an exercise in futility. We will walk this path a ways, and if it doesn’t work, I can always delete it and fade back into my anonymity.
I have no idea which direction the stories will take from here. They do have a life of their own. Whether you understand this or not, while my fingers are typing, I also listen as the drama of the stories unfolds.
Contents
- In Grandfather’s Eyes
- Grandfather’s Love
- Full Moon Rising
- The Red Energies
- The Moon Qualities
- Endorphin Rush
- Dominion
- Dust and Shadow
- Drive
- Propriety
- Order
- Imagination
- Guardians
In Grandfather’s Eyes
My grandpa, J. B. Hoover, was a strange and wonderful man. I remember him as a kind and loving man, a very patient man who loved children. He was a commanding figure who spoke very loud all the time. He was always the center of attention wherever he went. Because bombs exploded close to him in the First World War, he was very hard of hearing, and everyone had to yell at him to get him to understand what they were saying. He had a great belly laugh, and he used it a lot. Because he had been shot in the stomach in the war, he could not control his flatulence, and I remember the humor when he would make funny noises at the most inopportune times. He laughed along with everyone else. There was a carnival atmosphere whenever my grandpa was around.
But there was a dark side to Preacher Hoover. I never saw it, but I sensed it, and I heard many stories of when he was younger. When in repose, his dark eyes always held a smoldering cast. He always seemed to be a man on a mission. Even when on a simple task such as going to check the mail, he looked like a man going to beat the mailman. He imposed his will on those around him, especially his family. He said what he meant and meant what he said, and was eager to back his words with argument or fists at any time. He walked the earth afraid of no man.
My grandpa never talked about his life before I was born. But from stories he told and stories I heard from my parents, my grandmother, and others, I have a good idea of what happened. In 1921, when my grandpa was twenty-nine years old, he became, for all practical purposes, a White Man Medicine Man: he became a Methodist minister.
Preacher Hoover preached far and wide for thirty-three years. Many people loved him. And many people hated him.