tetus, ‘‘and now he’s moved into the Florida Panhandle and southern Ala-
bama. Apparently he’s dynamite, at least among white folks who go in for
that sort of thing....He’sabout to sign a syndication deal with Fox Broad-
casting....It’sgoing to calledThe Stoic’s Hour.’’ So Charlie was reborn as
the force of nature, a man full in himself, free at last of things not neces-
sary—unless, of course, Fox will corrupt him with excessive cash money.
One hopes, and somehow believes, this will not be.
But what of Conrad Hensley, Charlie’s own messenger from Epictetus?
Wes showed Roger a press clipping from an Oakland paper. The article’s
headline read , . After Charlie had thrown off ma-
terial trifles, Conrad returned to California and turned himself in to the
police. In court, his sentencing judge inquired if the prisoner had thoughts
about himself, his crime, and his fate. Conrad did: ‘‘It’s up to you to do your
part, Judge, and it’s up to me to do mine.’’ When the judge expressed sur-
prise at Conrad’s calm, Conrad averred that, indeed, ‘‘I’m completely tran-
quil. I feel completely in accord with nature. My body, it’s nothing but a clay
bowl with a quart of blood, and it’s only on loan in the first place. But Zeus
has given each of us a spark of his divinity, the ability to say yes to what is
true, and no to what is false, and no one can take that away from you, not
even in prison.’’ ‘‘Zeus, hunh,’’ said the judge, and then set Conrad free with
two years probation—‘‘in the custody of Zeus.’’^21
Amen.