Tag: Parable

Amusing Political Short Story

A Parable Of A Dead Cat

A Parable Of A Dead Cat

He started out as a gift to the children. Just barely two months old when he arrived, Little Buddy was a big hit with the family. We had never had a cat before, let alone a Ginger Cat.

Raising Little Buddy was to be a family task. That nasty business of cleaning the litter box originally was to be a shared task for the children.

“We’ll take turns, Dad, we’ll feed him and bathe him and clean up after him. We promise.”

Well, I eventually gave in and Little Buddy came to live with us. It didn’t take long for Little Buddy to learn the routine. He even liked his weekly bath. He was a very curious cat too. With his long tail extended, Little Buddy walked on the back of the chairs and sofa and the countertops in the kitchen and the window sills too.

After being reminded several times, Little Buddy learned that we didn’t want him on the kitchen counters or on the table. He kept his backyard romps to a minimum and rarely stayed out more than about five to ten minutes. Then he would be back to the door asking to come inside.

There was just one thing that Little Buddy could not stop doing. Scratching. He extended his forepaws and dug them into the furniture. Deep gouges appeared on the legs of the sofa and chairs. He dug his claws into the fabric and shredded everything. He even scratched the legs of our very expensive and antique dining room table and chairs. Threads were appearing everywhere. And even though we warned him and tried to convince him otherwise, he refused to obey.

Well, as my wife said, “cats will be cats.”

So, a trip to the vet was planned. You see, a vet can surgically remove these sharp appendages. They can declaw a cat, making them harmless to you and to your furniture. Against his will, Little Buddy submitted to this procedure. Within a week he was back to his old self with one exception. There was no longer scratching. Oh, he still went through the motions, but he could not do any damage. Without claws, he was no longer a threat to us or our furniture.

At last, Little Buddy was a manageable pet. He could run, jump and play without being a problem in our home or to anyone that might try to pick him up.

However, one night during his romp in the backyard, Little Buddy ran into an unforeseen situation. We don’t know how many there were, but all we heard were dogs barking. I ran into the backyard and never even saw them. That’s when I found him. My Little Buddy. Lying lifeless in a pool of his own blood.

You see, in our misguided quest to make Little Buddy a more manageable member of our family, we had removed Little Buddy’s only means of self-defense. Without claws, Little Buddy was helpless. Little Buddy could only HOPE he wouldn’t be assaulted.

The moral to this story is simple: The right to bare arms saves your hide.

Amusing

The Ant and the Grasshopper- The Original and Modern Versions

This one is a little different…
Two Different Versions!…
Two Different Morals!…

ORIGINAL VERSION:

The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long, building his house and laying up supplies for the winter.

The grasshopper thinks the ant is a fool and laughs and dances and plays the summer away.

Come winter, the ant is warm and well fed.

The grasshopper has no food or shelter, so he dies out in the cold.

MORAL OF THE STORY: Be responsible for yourself.

MODERN VERSION:

The ant works hard in the withering heat all summer long , building his house and laying up supplies for the winter.

The grasshopper thinks the ant is a fool and laughs and dances and plays the summer away.

Come winter, the shivering grasshopper calls a press conference and demands to know why the ant should be allowed to be warm and well fed while others are cold and starving.

CBS, NBC , PBS, CNN, and ABC show up to provide pictures of the shivering grasshopper next to a video of the ant in his comfortable home with a table filled with food. America is stunned by the sharp contrast.

How can this be, that in a country of such wealth, this poor grasshopper is allowed to suffer so?

Kermit the Frog appears on Oprah with the grasshopper and everybody cries when they sing, ‘It’s Not Easy Being Green.’

Acorn stages a demonstration in front of the ant ‘s house where the news stations film the group singing, ‘We shall overcome.’ Rev. Jeremiah Wright then has the group kneel down to pray to God for the grasshopper’s sake.

Nancy Pelosi & Harry Reid exclaim in an interview with Larry King that the ant has gotten rich off the back of the grasshopper, and both call for an immediate tax hike on the ant to make him pay his fair share.

Finally, the EEOC drafts the Economic Equity & Anti-Grasshopper Act retroactive to the beginning of the summer.

The ant is fined for failing to hire a proportionate number of green bugs and, having nothing left to pay his retroactive taxes, his home is confiscated by the Government Green Czar.

The story ends as we see the grasshopper finishing up the last bits of the ants food while the government house he is in, which just happens to be the ant’s old house, crumbles around him because he doesn’t maintain it.

The ant has disappeared in the snow.

The grasshopper is found dead in a drug related incident and the house, now abandoned, is taken over by a gang of spiders who terrorize the once peaceful neighborhood.

MORAL OF THE STORY: Be careful how you vote in 2010.

Amusing

Obam-A-Lama-Ding-Dong

One day, a rich tourist comes to town. He enters the only hotel, lays a $100.00 bill on the reception counter, and goes to inspect the rooms upstairs in order to pick one. The hotel proprietor takes the $100.00 bill and runs to pay his debt to the butcher. The butcher takes the $100.00 bill and runs to pay his debt to the pig farmer. The pig farmer takes the $100.00 bill and runs to pay his debt to the feed store proprietor. The proprietor of the feed store takes the $100.00 bill and runs to pay his debt to the town’s prostitute. (Who, in these hard times, gave her “services” on credit). The prostitute takes the $100.00 bill and runs to the hotel and pays off her debt to the proprietor for the rooms she rented when she brought her clients there. The hotel proprietor then lays the $100.00 bill back on the counter so that the rich tourist will not suspect anything. The rich tourist comes down after inspecting the rooms, takes his $100.00 bill, and saying that he did not like any of the rooms, he leaves town. The whole town believes it is now without any debt, and looks to the future with great optimism! However, no one has actually earned anything.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how the United States Government under ‘Obam-A-Lama-Ding-Dong’ is doing business today. It is truly frightening…..

Amusing

Dinner at the White House – A Parable

Once upon a time, I was invited to the White House for a private dinner with the President. I am a respected businessman, with a factory that produces memory chips for computers and portable electronics. There was some talk that my industry was being scrutinized by the administration, but I paid it no mind. I live in a free country. There’s nothing that the government can do to me if I’ve broken no laws. My wealth was earned honestly, and an invitation to dinner with an American President is an honor.

I checked my coat, was greeted by the Chief of Staff, and joined the President in a yellow dining room. We sat across from each other at a table draped in white linen. The Great Seal was embossed on the china. Uniformed staff served our dinner.

The meal was served, and I was startled when my waiter suddenly reached out, plucked a dinner roll off my plate, and began nibbling it as he walked back to the kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” said the President. “Andrew is very hungry.”

“I don’t appreciate…” I began, but as I looked into the calm brown eyes across from me, I felt immediately guilty and petty. It was just a dinner roll. “Of course,” I concluded, and reached for my glass. Before I could, however, another waiter reached forward, took the glass away and swallowed the wine in a single gulp.

“And his brother Eric is very thirsty.” said the President.

I didn’t say anything. The President is testing my compassion, I thought. I will play along. I don’t want to seem unkind.

My plate was whisked away before I had tasted a bite.

“Eric’s children are also quite hungry.”

With a lurch, I crashed to the floor. My chair had been pulled out from under me. I stood, brushing myself off angrily, and watched as it was carried from the room.

“And their grandmother can’t stand for long.”

I excused myself, smiling outwardly, but inside feeling like a fool. Obviously I had been invited to the White House to be sport for some game. I reached for my coat, to find that it had been taken. I turned back to the President.

“Their grandfather doesn’t like the cold.”

I wanted to shout- that was my coat! But again, I looked at the placid smiling face of my host and decided I was being a poor sport. I spread my hands helplessly and chuckled. Then I felt my hip pocket and realized my wallet was gone. I excused myself and walked to a phone on an elegant side table. I learned shortly that my credit cards had been maxed out, my bank accounts emptied, my retirement and equity portfolios had vanished, and my wife had been thrown out of our home. Apparently, the waiters and their families were moving in. The President hadn’t moved or spoken as I learned all this, but finally I lowered the phone into its cradle and turned to face him.

“Andrew’s whole family has made bad financial decisions. They haven’t planned for retirement, and they need a house. They recently defaulted on a subprime mortgage. I told them they could have your home. They need it more than you do.”

My hands were shaking. I felt faint. I stumbled back to the table and knelt on the floor. The President cheerfully cut his meat, ate his steak and drank his wine. I lowered my eyes and stared at the small grey circles on the tablecloth that were water drops.

“By the way,” He added, “I have just signed an Executive Order nationalizing your factories. I’m firing you as head of your business. I’ll be operating the firm now for the benefit of all mankind. There’s a whole bunch of Erics and Andrews out there and they can’t come to you for jobs groveling like beggars.”

I looked up. The President dropped his spoon into the empty ramekin which had been his creme brulee. He drained the last drops of his wine. As the table was cleared, he lit a cigarette and leaned back in his chair. He stared at me. I clung to the edge of the table as if were a ledge and I were a man hanging over an abyss. I thought of the years behind me, of the life I had lived. The life I had earned with a lifetime of work, risk and struggle. Why was I punished? How had I allowed it to be taken? What game had I played and lost? I looked across the table and noticed with some surprise that there was no game board between us.

What had I done wrong?

As if answering the unspoken thought, the President suddenly cocked his head, locked his empty eyes to mine, and bared a million teeth, chuckling wryly as he folded his hands.

“You should have stopped me at the dinner roll,” he said.

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