A Think Tank Emergency Meeting

 

Once upon a time… in a crumbling country formerly known as Freeland… there ruled Sir Surly, a callous, capricious, unscrupulous, intellectually incurious, imperious, furious, spurious sovereign. That idiotic ideologue suffered an insatiable hunger for undeserved allegiance, admiration and accolades. Far worse, “his majesty” believed himself Above the Law… be such principles established by legislators, scientists, theologians or the very Creator, Herself.

As such, he’d rampage all across his kingdom, year in / year out, day and night, on his never ending quest to identify and reward his foolhardy enablers… to call out and severely punish (eventually execute) anyone who he summarily judged to be a detractor… or even slightly suspected of being, such a naysayer.

One day, the Creator of the Universe caught wind of that (figuratively and literally) malodorous monarch. And indeed, She was feeling so PO’d about Sir Surly’s nasty, mean-spirited demeanor that She convened an emergency meeting… requested the presence of four of Her most time honored, cream of the crop, top advisors… none other than Mother Nature, Mother Teresa, Lord John Dalberg-Acton and Sir Isaac Newton.

The very next morn, The Creator gavelled the meeting into session and proclaimed the first and ONLY order of business… namely… to discuss stratagems for reining in Sir Surly’s reign of terror… thereby liberating his oppressed masses (whether or not they even recognized his words and deeds as tyrannical).

Most assuredly, each and every one of Her advisors brought their own considerable talents to that think tank’s table. And since they were already cognizant re the nefarious nature and wicked ways of Sir Surly, they got right down to the business of their punishment presentations.

Mother Nature began her demonstration by warming up her pitching arm, while simultaneously rubbing her feet on the synthetic fabric carpet. Once she generated the sufficient static to form 1,000,000,000 volt, lightening bolts she lobbed three of them squarely at a life sized mock up of Sir Surly, thereby instantly reducing that repurposed, crash test dummy to ashes. Although The Creator did feel misgivings re the severity of Ma Nature’s overpowering display, She could totally understand how global warming and a hot temper would go hand-in-hand.

Mother Teresa was up next, and went the far less violent, we-must-sternly-lecture Sir Surly route. Indeed, there was sufficient tough love awash in her sermon to allow for a goodly portion of her Godliness to rub off on the wayward sovereign… i.e., help him locate his misplaced mind, absent heart and lost soul.

Lord Acton, a onetime Freeland resident, was not in any mood to take anymore crap from Sir Surly. To get even he proposed a far more formidable fire and brimstone approach to scare the bejesus out of that ornery cuss! How so? Acton would studio produce a looped recording of his hallowed, oft quoted words, “Absolute power corrupts absolutely!” When sufficiently boom box amplified and echo chamber enhanced, such a thundering mantra would be impossible to ignore.

Sir Isaac Newton, at that point, was feeling so bemused, he was laughing his ass off. Turning to face him The Creator asked, “What’s so effing funny?”, to which the renowned scientist replied, “I’ve got THE solution! You, M’lady Creator are all powerful, are you not? Why don’t you simply suspend the Laws of Gravity.”

A bemused ear to ear grin suddenly appeared on Her face. She exclaimed, “Point well taken Sir Isaac! I do see where you’re going with this brilliant, striking, yet non-violent scheme of yours! Meeting Adjourned!”

The very next morn, The Creator specifically targeted Sir Surly and, once gravity no longer existed for him… and him alone… with his arms and legs flailing about… for a fleeting moment… he floated helplessly above his kingdom. But not for long. From there, he soared Up, Up and Away, off the face of the Earth… to never to be seen and heard from again!

And Freeland was, finally, free at last.

 

 

 

 

Fortune Cookie Blog (politic parable)

 

Once upon a time there lived a nasty king, who dubbed himself Sir Surly I.
The only thing worse than his tattered moral code and self-serving agenda
was his threadbare, threadless, endless, benighted, bellicose bellyaching.
With the push of “The Button” he had the power to unravel the very strands
of DNA that had evolved humankind. His impudence and imprudence left
all seven plus billion of his subjugated subjects dangling by a fragile thread.
Nancy, the stitch-in-time town tailor, saved them! Tied up the King in knots.
Our story’s moral: Don’t be duped by a Fascist wolf Don-ning sheep’s duds.
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