Adapted from an unknown Author. Tip of the hat to Cuzzin Don Smith
The donkey told the tiger: The grass is blue.
The tiger replied: No, the grass is green.
The discussion became heated, and the two decided to submit the issue to arbitration, and to do so they approached the lion.
Before reaching the clearing in the forest where the lion was sitting on his throne, the donkey started screaming: ′′Your Highness, isn’t it true that the grass is blue?”
The lion replied: “True, the grass is blue”.
The donkey rushed forward and continued: ′′The tiger disagrees with me and contradicts me and annoys me. Please punish him”.
The king then declared: ′′The tiger will be punished with 5 years of silence”.
The donkey jumped with joy and went on his way, content and repeating: ′′The grass is blue”..
The tiger accepted his punishment, but he asked the lion: ′′Your Majesty, why have you punished me, after all, the grass is green?”
The lion replied: ′′In fact, the grass is green”.
The tiger asked: ′′So why do you punish me?”
The lion replied:
That has nothing to do with the question of whether the grass is blue or green. The punishment is because it is not possible for a brave, intelligent creature like you to waste time arguing with a donkey, and on top of that to come and bother me with that question
The worst waste of time is arguing with the fool and fanatic who doesn’t care about truth or reality, but only the victory of his beliefs and illusions. Never waste time on discussions that make no sense… There are people who for all the evidence presented to them, do not have the ability to understand, and others who are blinded by ego, hatred and resentment, and the only thing that they want is to be right even if they aren’t.
When ignorance screams, intelligence shuts up. Your peace and tranquility are worth more.
Category: Fiction
A Morning’s Madness
The east Texas sun beat down mercilessly and Jacob paused to wipe the sweat from his eyes before hitching the mule to his plow. Lately, it had become increasingly difficult to get Sukey in harness and to work. She was beginning to display the stubborn, sullen disposition for which her breed is famous. This morning didn’t look like it would be an exception. As Jacob approached her with the collar, she turned her head away from him and began to walk in a slow circle, keeping just out of reach. Jacob always fought to control his temper when Sukey got recalcitrant , because it was vital that he get his 40 acres plowed and planted in cotton. His poor East Texas red dirt farm would yield about three bales. In those depression years, the $90.00 the three bales would bring was enough to survive, providing the garden produced and the cow didn’t dry up, and nobody stole the pigs and chickens. Sabine County, Texas in 1931 wasn’t a paradise but a man could make do. So, this morning Jacob didn’t lose his temper. He sweet talked and clucked softly, and told Sukey what a fine girl she was, and after a few minutes, she stood still and he eased the collar over her head. He hitched up the harness and led her to the plow and connected it. He wiped the sweat from his eyes once more and reached for the plow handles. “Gol-dang you wuthless, no-count flop eared, crow bait!” he exploded, “Git up”. Sukey was calmly sitting on her haunches. “Git up!”, he shouted again and slapped her with the plow reins. She didn’t move. He moved around to her front, and cursing her loudly, grabbed one long ear in each hand and pulled. Sukey brayed, but didn’t move. Jacob banged her on the nose with his fist. She blinked twice and broke wind. His self control was rapidly fading. He moved to her side and kicked her sharply in the belly. She grunted. He kicked her again and finally she stood up. Jacob was perspiring freely, his anger barely held in check “Giddap”, he said. Sukey took three steps and stopped. He slapped her with the plow reins again. She stood there. His fury was now a red cloud in front of his eyes. He cursed and pulled her ears, he whacked her nose, and kicked her belly. She stood there. His fury was now a red cloud in front of his eyes. He cursed and pulled her ears, he whacked her nose, and kicked her belly. He got behind her and pushed with all his might, his shoulder against her haunches. She broke wind in his face and the stench was sickening. “That does it”, he screamed. “I’ve tried everything I know how to try, except one. My Daddy told me a mule will do anything if you just get its attention”. He raced to the wood pile and came back with a piece of firewood about three feet long and six inches thick. “Now, you gol-danged, wuthless, flea bitten, no good, glue bait, hard headed idjit”, he screamed, as he wielded the piece of firewood like a baseball bat, “I am about to git yore attention”. He swung with all his strength and the firewood connected right between the mule’s eyes. It cracked like a rifle shot. Sukey shuddered, fell to her knees, brayed once weakly and fell over dead. He stared at her for a moment and looked up to see a dust devil dance across the far end of his unplowed field. It looked like it was going to be a rough year.
