The Father of Dead Tongues 2300: What a Prodigy of a World!

The year is 2300. “What a prodigy of a world!” my great-great-grandfather would exclaim with enthusiasm and astonishment. At present, the human being is devoted entirely, body and soul, to culture and science, to research and creation. Furthermore, modern man lacks what I call “sterile passions:” envy, rancor, hatred and many other denigrating feelings that abounded in the past.

A group of 200 men, relying on the discovery of the Time Tunnel and the crystallite substance that makes them invisible to everyone except their colleagues, were selected to carry out historical research in Venezuela in 1982. Upon conclusion of this research, it was necessary to appear before the Writers Association, which was commemorating the month of language. This research consisted of finding out the harmful or beneficial use that had been given to words.

The 200 explorers departed and, after 15 days, only 70 returned. They had interviews with the research director and expressed how pleased they were with the Venezuela of ’82. Luckily, they had witnessed the lives of people whose goals were respect, communication, sincerity, loyalty and love.

The director, upon finding himself alone, asked himself: “And what happened to the rest of the explorers?” He decided to embark in the Time Tunnel. Upon reaching the study site, he found his colleagues dead, with faces of fright, horror, scorn and disgust. He took charge of matters and began to observe the use that had been given to words by these beings that had been seen and heard by the explorers who had perished.

Such a show! He could hardly believe it. Now he understood why his men had died so disillusioned with their predecessors. He realized that in 1982, some men, shielding themselves through their words, were capable of the worst: libel, slander, lies, bribery, deceit, fraud, hoaxes, tricks, swindles, mockery, scams, lures, cons and dirty tricks.

In one of the homes he ended up in, he took possession of a pair of scissors and mercilessly cut out these beings’ tongues.

He returned home, prepared the report and, once it was ready, he presented it to the Writers Association. After listening to it and full of joy, they decorated him with a title never before created. From that day he was called “The Father of Dead Tongues.”

With a firm voice and invulnerable spirit, the president of this Association stated in order to bring the act to a close: “Gentlemen, now we are sure to be able to perform historical research anew without the obstacle and meddling of snakelike tongues that deserve to be dead.”