Oliver Benjamin
lanterns, vehicles, water purifiers, radios, even computers. Part of a
Gymnesia membership covers the cost of transport, and they will be
distributed by agencies in those countries.”
He switched on a bank of monitors. Images of fierce young
altruists filled the room. It was an orgy of directed movement,
something like warfare. “Look at how hard these maniacs are
working out. They know that the harder they fight, the closer they
become to genuine heroes. Every pump, every curl, every squat, every
imaginary mile goes straight over to the struggling in Ethiopia or
Guatemala or Indonesia, giving them light and education and health.
They don’t have to burn wood or oil. And the results are miraculous.”
He pointed to a slender lady doing sit-ups on a machine. “See her?
She lost a hundred pounds in four months. She spends hours here
every day. See that guy? He couldn’t even see his pecker. Now he’s a
stone warrior.”
“Amazing what a little righteousness can do,” Roy said. “This is
like the crusades. They’ve even got the white outfits.”
“Yes, but instead of rescuing the holy land, we’re saving the fat
from fatuousness!”
Roy pulled up his shirt to reveal a lean stomach. “I’m not fat, but
I’d like to do my part. Give a little bit, you know. What’s the best way
to build up my arms?”
Martin slapped him on the back and bellowed, “By lifting
burdens off the downtrodden, my friend.”
As Martin showed Roy how to properly isolate his triceps
muscles, taped television footage flashed across a bank of massive
screens, all gut-wrenching documentaries detailing the tragic
circumstances of the world’s poor. On their television sets at home
most people would quickly change the channel, but here they were
inspiring sermons from an evangelical pulpit, helping to propel the
faithful to greater heights of sweaty and desperate altruism.
Roy watched clips of Filipino children scavenging in trash heaps
as big as buildings. He saw Peruvian street kids sleeping among piles
of dung. He watched babies fall over and die in Somalia.
“But…” he said quietly, “Those people don’t need batteries. They
need food and medicine. Jobs. Shelter.”
“We’re giving them something better,” he said quietly, “Pure
energy. With energy you can do anything. Wait, here’s something you
might be interested in.”
A program about worker’s conditions came on. It showcased the
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