Friday, July 18, 2014

Forthwith: A Tale of Fire and the Flammables

     Some say fire is bad, but it does not cease. How can this be? Will it not change its ways?

     Some say, perhaps we can talk to the fire, reason with it. But it rages on.

     Maybe we could retrain the fire or send it to a half-way house. After it has taken from us, we will pay anything so it takes no more. Fire continues and grows larger.

     “It must be the flammables who make the fire rage. Yes, yes, it must be their fault. They’ve been overbearing and prejudiced. Why, the fire had no choice but to try to consume them. After all, did they ever even have the fire over for dinner? No, they were not very fire-sensitive, not conflagrationarily-correct. They even tried to restrain and contain the fire! Yes, it’s their fault.  Shouldn’t the  fire have the same rights as anybody else? Let it go free… and pay it damages!”

     Fire leapt up anew.

     The cries of those enlightened, desperately clinging to the hope that nothing they do- or don’t do- has  consequence grew louder. They must live on.

     A few mourned the flammables and wanted to douse the fire. “Reactionary, fascist, intolerant pigs!” screamed the tolerant, fire-sensitive, conflagrationarily-correct. “You’re not on our level, for we are open-minded. We feel the fire’s pain.”

     Soon, matches were passed out in public schools so that fire’s origin and very roots could be better understood. A symbolic display of unity with the much maligned and little understood fire. And those who passed out the matches  went home and laughed, for they knew that they held the power over both the flammables and the fire. They were more enlightened than the flammables, and were the fire’s only real friends. Yes, they had true power.

     The fire, aided by the fire-sensitive, conflagrationarily-correct, finally consumed most of the flammables. Then, realizing it was rapidly running out of fuel,  turned on its supporters.

     In disbelief, the fire-sensitive, conflagrationarily-correct cried out, “you stupid, two-faced fire; after all we’ve done for you- how could you? There are more uncaring, intolerant, fascist flammables left. Take them. They deserve it! They never cared to know you. Not like we did!”

     But fire did not discriminate, and they, too, were made to perish. It seemed that fire had consumed nearly all that God and nature had wrought.

     With the exception of a few brave flammables who refused to give in, and sought refuge in the Sea of Galilee.

      There was nothing, then, left to fuel the fire. Fire, unable to support itself, quickly retreated and abated.

     The remaining flammables would soon unite. With conviction and love, and an unending hope for a better tomorrow, minus not fire, but fire’s supporters, they would re-populate this fragile orb.

    (This tale was spawned by a quote from Winston Churchill. When asked about his views on morality and behavior, the Prime Minister said, “I refuse to be impartial as between the fire brigade and the fire”).


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