The Hermits' Convention

Introduction.

It is a June twilight. The moon is orange and hanging lazily; the air is heavy and making halos around the small town street-lamps that are twinkle buzz pop and flickering, one by one, on. In the fields, plants are beginning to tuck their leaves and small animals are beginning their evening bustle. Meanwhile, from all corners of the continent, quiet pilgrims are starting their procession towards a common meeting place. Across prairies, over mountains, through forest and brush, there is the pitter-patter of light foot-fall. From dells, and farms, from the ends of country-lanes thought to be abandoned, is the shuffle and brush of steps. From remote ranches, from caves and bungalows:

hermits are setting off for their annual convention.

Hermits: the most misunderstood race. Let me tell you what I know you think you know about them. Firstly, most obviously, that they live by themselves and as far from civilization as possible. This is true. Except for those that choose to live in pairs--or threesomes(!)--but even those only speak for under an hour a day, and usually during an allotted hour at that. That they are eccentric could not be more true, by traditional standards. Most of them dress in strange ways, an haute-couture that is entirely their own. But consider! Where do you suppose a hermit can, or would ever choose, to go shopping? Exactly. This certainly does make clothes very hard to come by. And would you guess that hermits (generally speaking) love animals? My, do they! A hermit is never near without his/her dog, bird, cat, zebra, cow, chicken, or, as I have witnessed, panda bears. But then, a hermit is never near.

The preferred residence of a hermit varies greatly. Some hermits reside in marvels of environmentally friendly architecture; some prefer the simple and reliable comfort of a cave. Some have huge ranches; some inhabit deserted islands; some live in trees and only come out once a day, strictly to gather food and use the...er... facilities. Some enjoy yoga. Most of that you could have guessed, and most of it is correct. Most of it.

But that once a year they gather at an undisclosable location in North Carolina to brainstorm, and--gasp!--socialize, you may not have guessed. But they do, and it’s the highlight of any hermit’s year. For hermits are certainly not as solitary as I’m sure you suppose.

Now, of course the first logical question you may have, is “How do all of these hermits know when and where to meet?” and the answer to that is simple enough. If you were smart enough, you could hack into a vast network of hermits’ computers. But nobody is clever enough to do that, since hermits, few realize, are the smartest of all the creatures to inhabit the world. Contrary to popular belief, they are a tightly connected community who just choose to live separately, but who are, in fact, the only real-life super-heros in existence, working every-day, and more successfully than any other manmade organization, towards the successful preservation of planet Earth. They are just too evolved to desire acknowledgement for this feat, and too elitist. Their solitary lives amongst the exclusive ranks of their own society are what they most prefer.

Your second question might be: “Why hasn’t the CIA or FBI or the super-powers of the world intervened to glean information, steal their inventions, or to regulate their activities since, without regulation, they might well-be considered a terrorist organization? What if they are harboring weapons of mass destruction?” The answer to that question is that they are the super-powers, my dear. And it’s a good thing, too. For if the world were truly left at the hands of the powers that seem to be, we would all have good reason to be very, very, terribly, and truly terrified.

Your third question, naturally, should be “WHO exactly are YOU, Narrator?” The answer to that must remain a bit of a mystery. So, I will tell you first what I am not: I am not someone that you've ever met, most likely. I am not a person who reads People magazine, who watches reality TV, who drives an SUV, or who attends church on Sundays; I am not a person who condones video games or Twitter accounts. I am a person who reads a lot of books, has very little money, speaks to few people, and has nomadic habits; in short, I am a hermit in training. For this reason, I was allowed to infiltrate the very intimate goings-on of the best and most productive Hermits’ Convention to date. And I am writing this from the front line, reporting everything faithfully, with the security of a sound conviction that not a person will ever believe me.