Because Elvis costumes are popular on Halloween

Here's the third and final part of "The Parable of the King":

The Parable of the King: Part III

In those days, the city of light and flying water was content. The world spun on its axis, yet the night and day seemed equally bright and all but indiscernible from each other in that city. The people should have been content, and so they were.

The king, who mainly had the city to be built in a sparkling fashion like his own, had long since passed. His effigies and likenesses, however, could still be seen, sometimes on the coinage of one or another lands, sometimes on the garments of a visitor from afar, sometimes on the back of a caravan. These served to remind the people that although the power of the dam had brought them light, it was the power of the king that had brought them brightness. Yet, even though the king had long gone, still the city prospered and grew.

As the city grew, it expanded not only in size, but in diversity as well. Settlers from the Far East had garnished the right bank of the via, although they were kept in check by a contingent from Norman lands to their south and native settlers to their north. On the opposite bank, the Asians and Egyptians had chosen to settle the southernmost tip of the city, leaving the Europeans to stare across the way to their rivals, prevented from moving farther north by the influx of various buccaneers and vagabonds who camped at the entrance of the bazaar. Most of the citadels preferred mirrors for their surfaces, to reflect not only the vacant stares of the passers-by, but also the insidious glances of rivals from neighboring citadels, far in the distance, yet close in height and high in curiosity. It was no wonder, then, that the mirrors also shunted the stiff intrusion of the sun during the day and the brightness during the night. The city became ever more shiny and sparkling, even as the dirt and decay grew both within and without the citadels.

As people in other lands often visited this city and found there much joy, even if occasionally mingled with expensive and bitter grief, many sought to build cities like the one created by the king. They built strong edifices and towering citadels like those they had seen in the king’s city. They filled their buildings with fields of green and red and black, where all who had means could come and dispense with it, or build it, as fate would allow. Entertainers came and sang and danced, pugilists came and fought and fell, traders came and bought and sold. All these cities who so emulated the king’s city stood tall, and bright, and though these cities might rest on or by the water, unlike the city which the king had summoned from the sand, they felt just as secure and happy, some might even say, happier.

But, it was not meant to last.

Presently, a great wind arose in the ocean to the east. So great was the wind, and such its fury, very islands both big and small were swept away in front of it. The ocean itself surged to heights no man had ever climbed. And as the great wind approached, the people in the imitations of the king’s city came to wish they too had built on something more solid than a pile of water soaked rock and debris. Even as the wind approached, they nonetheless believed their ingenuity was such that even this wind could not destroy what they had built, and so they continued to cast their gold onto the red, black and green fields, and dine on the delicacies of the ocean, an ocean that unbeknownst to them moved ever closer to their own meager dominion.

Eventually, the ultimate depth and fury of the wind was realized, even as it crept over the water and onto the waterside edifices of the now diminishing and scurrying cities. The waves continued to rise, the spirits of the people dampened and fell, but not nearly as hard as the citadels of the cities themselves. For many days, the wind and waves rocked the cities and all they contained, until eventually, they contained nothing. The people who had not been washed away fled. The buildings that had not been demolished were sunk. Only broken caravans and tainted spirits haunted the cities. When finally the wind and waves subsided, when the sun at last shone through the heavy black clouds again, no trace of the cities was to be found. Where once had stood mighty towers and sparkling domes, intricate complexes of lavish entertainment and delicate cuisine, there was nothing, nothing at all. The wind had swept men and their makings before it, and washed it out to the sea from where it came, leaving only a depression that all men shared but none called his own.

People who had flocked to the cities stopped coming, for they know the cities were gone and would take many months, or years, to rebuild. Some who did not know of the fate of the cities came, only to be met by protectors and soldiers, turned away from the aftermath. “Fields of green?” they might exclaim to the uninformed questioner. “All that is green is what is left of the ocean that hath surged upon us. Keep your gold in your pocket, for it will be needed to buy you a meager meal on your trip back to your homeland.” The intrepid would turn around, then, and long for the thrill of the king’s city all the more.

And so, as the imitators rebuilt, the people returned to the one true Mecca, the city of the king. The caravans that flew through the air were still fewer than before, but the number of people seeking the joys of the city did not subside. All were packed closely in their berth until at last they disembarked at the gate of the city’s portal. Upon exiting the gates, all were bathed in the light of city, but whether from the sun, or the glitter, or the mirrors of the citadels, none could tell. They only knew that it was bright, and the fields of green and red and black were still scattered with gold, and where the king had but established a few, now there were many such fields and stages on which men could cavort. More than enough were there to satisfy the endlessly thronging masses, who once again, left with no choice and no other refuge for their furious lusts and cravings, glanced longingly down the via bathed in light, looking around them at their fellow seekers of pleasure. The joy and astonishment that they felt would suddenly well within them, and though they might only be somewhat conscious of their action, their mouth would give forth with an expression of this joy. Some would shout, some would exclaim. Others would gasp, or sigh, or whisper. Yet all voices whether loud or soft, soprano or bass, raspy or clear, all were in unison: “Viva,” they said. “Viva, Las Vegas!”