There was a mighty Leader, The Clinton, who rose to power through guile and cleverness at a time when a great dictator strode the Balkans and threatened to encompass all of Europe in a fiery war once more. A great quaking and wailing arose from Brussels and woe was upon the EU. The Clinton summoned a fearless General, The Clark, who had a box of thunderbolts and that all he had to do was drop a thunderbolt on the dictator and blow him up. When he did that, the accolades flowed, and Europe was safe once more, and The Clark said, "What a great man am I."
So, thinking, "What a great man am I," The Clark decides that he is worthy of ruling the world and announces that he will become President of all men and transmogrifies into a Democrat. Immediately upon hearing The Clark's announcement speech, a great yelp of joy is heard from the Media Running Dogs and The Clark becomes The Leading Candidate, much to the chargrin of The Nine Lesser Candidates of the Left.
The Head Flack of the deposed Clintonistas, Fabiani, goes to work, and in very quick order he gets the campaign into pretty good condition. But every time The Leading Candidate gives a speech, he has bigger ideas about how splendid and grandiose his rule should be. Finally, Fabiani The Flack says, "My god, there is no end to his desires. I am caught for the duration of the campaign." So he goes to The Clinton, self-annointed leader of Democrats, and complains.
The Clinton sits on the throne of the poor, the symbol of his divine energy and divine grace. It is said that the poor grows from the navel of the Great Cuomo, who is the One True God of Liberalism, whose dream is a New World Order wherein there will be only poor. So Fabiani The Flack tells his story to The Clinton. The Clinton says, "You go home. I will fix this up." The Clinton casts aside his concubine and rushes to kneel before The Cuomo, seeking aid. The Cuomo just makes a lordly gesture and says something like, "Listen, I shall send a message forth upon The Blackberry and something will happen."
Next morning, at door of The Leading Candidate’s campaign headquarters, there appears one of The Nine Lesser Candidates of the Left, known as Dean Sage of the Northeast, with a pack of Media Running Dogs about him, lapping up his wisdom. Fabiani The Flack goes running to The Leading Candidate, and The Leading Candidate says, "Well, bring in the sage." Dean Sage of the Northeast is brought in, and The Leading Candidate, who would be president, sitting behind his desk, says, "My good man, welcome. And what brings you to my office?" "Well," says Dean Sage of the Northeast with a voice like thunder rolling on the horizon, "I have been told that you are building such a plan to rule the world such as no Leading Candidate, not even the august FDR, before you ever built." And The Leading Candidate says, “Leading Candidates before me — what are you talking about?"
Dean Sage of the Northeast says, “Leading Candidates before you. I have seen them come and go, come and go. Many Candidates flowed from the navel of Liberalism, The Ivory Tower of Knowledge. Just think, The Cuomo sleeps in the Northeast, under the Ivory Tower and the power of Liberalism grows from his navel. Atop the Tower sits Carville, the creator of hubris. Carville opens his eyes, and a campaign comes into being, led by a Leading Candidate. Carville closes his eyes, and a race is lost. The life of a Leading Candidate is short. When he dies, Liberalism retreats back into its ivory tower, and another campaign is formed, and another Leading Candidate. Then think of the galaxies beyond galaxies in infinite space, each a tower, with a Carville sitting on it, opening his eyes, closing his eyes. And Leading Candidates? There may be wise men in your employ who would volunteer to count the drops of water in the oceans or the grains of sand on the beaches, but no one would count those Leading Candidates."
While Dean Sage of the Northeast was talking, an army of ants parades across the floor. Dean Sage of the Northeast laughs when he sees them, and The Leading Candidate’s hair stands on end, and he says to the sage, "Why do you laugh?"
Dean Sage of the Northeast points to the ants and says, "Former Leading Candidates all.
~the end
(A hat tip in memory of Joseph Campbell's marvelous stories that never cease to amuse, amaze and enlighten. The parable of “Indra’s Lesson” from the Upanishads may be found here.)
Posted by feste at September 26, 2003 01:16 PM | TrackBack