For the kiddies at bedtime

ONCE upon a time, in a place — oh, infinitely distant from any real place, and certainly in absolutely no way associated with this real place — there was a primitive and beautiful island. Most of the people of the island had most of what they wished for, and life for the majority (and a few in particular) was pretty peachy.

Sadly though, the people of that place were dummies. They were as thick as Peter Ustinov’s CV. They did not have the capacity to think their way out of a puddle. In fact, so stupid were the people that evolution itself may have reversed direction but for the presence of two great benefactors. Their names were Governance and Commerce.

Governance and Commerce nurtured the stupid people. They provided for their every need and never took, nor asked for, any recompense. Unselfishly they provided homes, food, education (futilely) and an absolutely first class health system. Under the protection of Governance and Commerce the people prospered, and daily were reminded by The Two Great Entities just how fortunate they were to be blessed with such benefaction.

Now, Governance and Commerce were first cousins, and certain restrictions therefore applied to their relationship. But, in the absence of other suitably esteemed companionship, Governance and Commerce began to gaze longingly into each other’s attributes …

One morning, over a shared cigarette, Governance murmured to Commerce that several of the people were, in their own stupid and naïve fashion, attempting to assert some influence over Governance. Commerce would not stand for such impudence. For Goodness sake! If the thickies were allowed to think they could influence Governance, it was only a matter of time before they would be attempting the same trick with him. Action was required.

Commerce began a whispering campaign amongst the people. Always careful to remain out of sight, Commerce began spreading a fearful rumour. Governance, whispered the hidden Commerce, was with child and the birth was expected sometime around the Ides of March. There was a grave danger (here Commerce’s voice became hushed and conspiratorial) that the child may be born with — hideous deformities!

“Oh No”, cried the shocked thickies, for even they understood (or so they thought) the implications of a hideously deformed child of Governance. “How can we prevent this travesty?”

“Well”, replied Commerce from under a rock, “You must think pure thoughts and undertake pure actions and not sully yourselves in any way — and you must refrain from attempting in any way to overtly influence Governance.” Then he soothingly added, “You just leave that to m– I mean, you just let Uncle Commerce take care of that.”

So the people did as they had had been bid by the mysterious rock. February turned to March. Governance grew heavy and ripe with life. And the people waited with expectation …

TO BE CONTINUED.