"The ink of the scholar is holier than
the blood of the martyr."
(Attributed to--) The Prophet Mohammad (quoted at the BraveNewWorld.in/
site)
America has now degenerated into a nation that cannot
walk and chew gum at the same time!
This has become painfully clear as, suffering from
collective ADHD, we have focused our attention from the Newtown massacre, to
the manufactured "Fiscal Debt Crisis," to Lance Armstrong's confessions, to NRA
and Fox News harangues about a deliberately tortured reading of the 2nd
Amendment, to France's bombing of Mali, to a hostage crisis in Algeria, to
Manti Teo's non-existent girlfriend, veering to the all-important question of
whether Beyonce lip-synced that War of 1812 paean to a flag. Is it any wonder that, in this flood of
distorted news and non-news, the average man or woman loses his/her mojo?
We've lost the "narrative line" and cannot keep more than
one plate spinning at a time! There are
so many "narratives" spewed in the commentariat, generic Justin and Taylor
can't punch their way out of a paper syllogism--can't get from A to C, without swiveling
hips around W, L and P and winding up at O (that's zero, btw!).
As I watched the recent run-up to, and spill-over of, the
"Fiscal Cliff," my mind kept returning to a tale I'd read in a book by the
Pakistani writer, Idries Shah, some forty years ago. The story goes something like this:
Upon his death, a wealthy caravan trader has bequeathed
to his three sons his hard-working camels.
The eldest is to receive half of the bequest; the next oldest 1/3; and
the youngest, 1/9. The problem is that
there are 17 camels in all. The sons are
befuddled. They go to the wise professor
at the university who tells them that their father must have meant camel meat!
If the camels are slaughtered, the meat can be distributed according to
their father's wishes. (The meat can be
preserved, and it will feed their families and can be bartered for other
goods!)
But, this is an unsatisfactory solution. The sons' father was a gentle man who would
never have sanctioned slaughtering his faithful animals. Besides, camel meat is not that tasty!
The sons consult a soothsayer who tells them that all the
camels should be sold, and the money distributed according to the father's
formula. This is more satisfactory, but
their father had often expressed his wish that his sons would continue the
family business.
Other wise men and women offer solutions, but all of them
prove untenable. Finally, the sons make
their way to the strange man who keeps to himself, makes his own way in the
world, but somehow exudes an aura of kindness and wisdom. They sit in his humble hut, smoke a hookah
[okay--that's my innovation!], eat some hummus on pita bread" and the man solves their problem.
"I have one dear camel," he tells them. "It is my sole means of support" and, my
friend. " But", I will give you my camel. "Then you will have 18 camels in
all. The eldest son will take half of
them--9 camels. The next son will take
1/3--6 camels. And the youngest will have
1/9--2 camels. Now" 9 and 6 and 2 are 17
camels. You will have one camel left
over. That is my camel, which you will
return to me."
When I remembered this tale, I related it to my own best
friend, "Woof"--my genius, psychic, telepathic border collie. Woof was in my backyard, burying a bone when
I hailed him later that day. "I've solved
the American debt crisis!" I told him.
"We don't need to cut a single social program. We just need to re-direct our thinking!"
"Easier said than done," Woof assured me, with his
eyes, settling back on his haunches, cocking his head with curiosity. "And what kind of byzantine re-directing will
this entail?" he queried. "Shall I think
Borges" or Brecht?"
"Neither. " Or, both. " Or, think Sufi. "it's all about
giving something away" which will come back to us anyway. Maybe in a different form. Everybody wins!"
"Wrong premise, already," Woof telepathed. "The rich and powerful don't want everyone to
win. They want most people to lose so
that they remain exceptional--being
rich and powerful! But, still
listening," he assured me again.
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