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The Magician interviewed the townsmen devoted to destruction in order that he might give them exactly what they desired (Is. 8:19). He asked merely what type of music they prefer. A lot of the townsmen had heard only one or two forms of music, but have heard tells of all sorts in the town of Vanity.

Ms. Liberal: I prefer the upbeat. It sooths my soul when my body begins to move to a rhythm. Make it quite repetitive so I get lost in the trance.

Mr. Simple: Well, I prefer the melancholy. What better way to peer into the soul of the typical townsmen here?

Mr. Skeptic: I prefer the whimsical—

Before he could give a defense to such a genre, the others began a slight snicker at such a thought.

Mr. Skeptic: What? A man can enjoy his music. It puts him in touch with that which he so scrutinizes.

Ms. Liberal: Well, Mr. Magician? Which will you have at this new show of yours?

Mr. Magician began to hesitate at the idea of so many different styles. He began to question if this was really a good idea at all. Perhaps I should go talk to that old Evangelist. But before he could make such a decision, Popularity came out of what seemed to be just thin air.

Popularity: We will have all these genres, of course!

Ms. Liberal: My! Who is this?

Mr. Magician: Oh, this is one of my personal assistants, Popularity. He, along with Nu—

At the beginning of that name, Popularity briskly took a hold of his shoulder and scolded him privately.

Popularity: We don’t speak of Numbers in public! We will send him once a year to report how well we’ve done. That is all!

With that, Popularity turned to address the three present. They were noticeably impressed by his dapper looks and fanciful cane.

Popularity: Yes, it is good to meet you.

Ms. Liberal: Are you sure Mr. Magician is not your assistant?

Popularity: Oh quite not, madam! I live to serve him.

His rebuke was said so sharply and so smoothly that it won Ms. Liberal over more and more. She even swore she saw a sparkle in his left eye.

Mr. Simple: I do not think you could provide all these venues and do it well.

Popularity: You will just have to come and see.

Ms. Liberal: Oh, of course they can, Simple.

Mr. Magician: We plan to do this every week!

Mr. Skeptic: There’s not even a well-trained musician in this town!

Popularity: Not yet. Well, Mr. Magician, we better get on going. We have a lot of people to ask!

Mr. Magician: Very good.

The two set off and Ms. Liberal still propagated her theory that it is actually the Magician serving Popularity. Mr. Magician still had doubts swimming in his mind. As they splashed, they put a film of water over his eyes, not as if he were about to cry, but as a tell tell sign of his distraughtness. Popularity took immediate notice of this and resolved to evaporate this apprehensive pool.

Popularity: What ever is the matter, good Magician?

Mr. Magician: Perhaps they are right. Perhaps we are not able to pull off this ridiculous stunt.

Popularity: Ridiculous! How many successful shows have you already done?

Mr. Magician: I’d need Numbers here to count them all.

Popularity: Precisely! And look back at those three! They are all obviously speaking well of you (Luke 6:26)! Look! They are pointing your way with smiles on their faces, smiles of delight, mind you!

Mr. Magician: Perhaps you are right indeed.

Mr. Magician felt more camaraderie with this man than ever before. After this setting aside of doubts, Mr. Magician further put down more guards he had up against popularity. At this moment, he really knew Popularity was there to help and not seek his own glory (John 7:18).  He for the first time looked up into Popularity’s eyes with true delight in him, but noticed something that made him wince. Popularity’s eyes became black as coal, black as a cold night with a fierce gale, black as thunderous clouds with no lightening. It was as if he looked into Popularity’s very soul. Upon his wince and blink, however, he looked again and saw nothing of the sort. Surely, it was just illusion.