1.  Input

When the Evolutionary Agent G. I. Gurdjieff was a young cub in the Caucasian Alps, he suffered a minor wound in a scuffle with a chum.

It seems that Gurdjieff criticized the sound of the chum's flatulence.  In the boyish roughhouse that followed Gurdjieff's tooth was loosened.  When he reached in his mouth, the tooth came away in his fingers.  Examining the technological relic he noticed that it had seven roots.  And each root had a drop of brilliantly crimsoned blood.

When his companions showed no interest in this unusual phenomenon, the Young Agent ran to the village Dentist, who examined the specimen with interest.

"Amazing," said the Dentist, handing the tooth back to Gurdjieff, "I've never seen anything like it in the fifty years I have been extracting teeth.  I don't understand it.  It's a real mystery."

"But what does it mean?" asked the Youth.

The Dentist shrugged.

"But what shall we do about it?" persisted the Young Gurdjieff.

The Dentist shrugged again.  "Consider yourself lucky that it came out that easily.  You've saved yourself three rubles."

Moral:  The Young Gurdjieff resolved on the spot that for the rest of his life he would do nothing but study those events which the rest of the human race ignored as mysterious.*

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* Pynchon dealt with the same problem at a time when The Mysterious and Inexplicable was dominating the foreign policy of every terrestrial country.  "Anti-paranoia," said Pynchon, "is that eerie thought that nothing is connected to anything."

2.  Maps and Metaphors

When Gurdjieff was a young man in the Armenian Area of the Black Sea he was given good advice by his grandmother.  Advice that he followed.  It happened like this:

Grandmother was dying.  To her home came over two hundred relatives -- including scores of great-grandchildren.  The mob of relatives filled the corridors and patios of the house with their lamenting.  But the Grandmother would see no one except her oldest friend, a German doctor named Wimpe.

After many hours Doctor Wimpe emerged from the dying woman's room.  The crowd, expecting an announcement of death was surprised when the doctor said that Grandmother wished to talk to only one of her many relatives.  Our Young Agent!  Little Goergie (Giogione) as he was called.

The young Gurdjieff approached the aged woman and stood respectfully.  She motioned him closer, grasped his hand lightly, looked intently into his eyes.  She gave a satisfied nod and motioned him even closer.

"Listen," she said, "you are the only one who will understand.  Imagine that.  Two hundred descendants in this sperm-egg ship and you are the only one.  Boy, swear to me that you will never forget what I tell you?"

"I shall never forget, Grandmother," swore Gurdjieff.

"Here is my advice.  Never do anything that anyone else does.  Never think what anyone else thinks.  And, most important, trust no one's maps but your own.  And trust your own maps only for the moment."

3.  Intensity of Transmission

The third technique which Gurdjieff used to guide his life and to increase his intelligence was passed on to him by, of all people, an illiterate and naive peasant.  (Or someone impersonating this caste.)

It seemed that every year after the harvest this peasant was in the habit of walking to Moscow to repay his seed loan, purchase items unavailable in the village, drink some vodka and see the city sights.

After the peasant conducted his business he was relaxing in an outdoor cafe drinking vodka and listening to the music, when he suddenly remembered that he had forgotten to purchase a special book that his oldest son had requested.  So the peasant and a tipsy friend set off to find a book store.

The book was found.  "That will be 13 rubles," said the clerk.

"But the price printed on the cover is 10 rubles," protested the peasant.

"The extra three are for the postage," replied the clerk.

"Splendid," said the peasant handing the clerk fifteen rubles.

The clerk returned with the change, courteous salutations were exchanged and the peasant left the store.

As the two peasants continued their walk down the boulevard the friend inquired with impatience, "Dmitri, why did you pay three rubles too much and why do you feel so merry about being over-charged?"

The peasant laughed loudly.  "When we're on a spree in Moscow, we pay the whole tab.  Including the postage."