Posted on 10/29/2003 5:44:44 AM PST by Mad Dawgg
Once upon a time, on a farm in Arkansas, there was a little red hen who scratched about the barnyard until she uncovered quite a few grains of wheat. She called all of her neighbors together and said, "If we plant this wheat, we shall have bread to eat.
Who will help me plant it?"
"Not I," said the cow.
"Not I," said the duck.
"Not I," said the pig.
"Not I," said the goose.
"Then I will do it by myself," said the little red hen. And so she did; The wheat grew very tall and ripened into golden grain.
"Who will help me reap my wheat?" asked the little red hen.
"Not I," said the duck.
"Out of my classification," said the pig.
"I'd lose my seniority," said the cow.
I'd lose my unemployment compensation," said the goose.
"Then I will do it by myself," said the little red hen, and so she did.
At last it came time to bake the bread. "Who will help me bake the bread?" asked the little red hen.
"That would be overtime for me," said the cow.
"I'd lose my welfare benefits," said the duck.
"I'm a dropout and never learned how," said the pig.
"If I'm to be the only helper, that's discrimination," said the goose.
"Then I will do it by myself," said the little red hen.
She baked five loaves and held them up for all of her neighbors to see. They wanted some and, in fact, demanded a share. But the little red hen said, "No, I shall eat all five loaves."
"Excess profits!" cried the cow.
"Capitalist leech!" screamed the duck.
"I demand equal rights!" yelled the goose.
The pig just grunted in disdain. And they all painted "Unfair!" picket signs and marched around and around the little red hen, shouting obscenities.
Then a government agent came, he said to the little red hen, "You must not be so greedy."
"But I earned the bread," said the little red hen.
"Exactly," said the agent. "That is what makes our free enterprise system so wonderful. Anyone in the barnyard can earn as much as he wants. But under our modern government regulations, the productive workers must divide the fruits of their labor with those who are lazy and idle."
And they all lived happily ever after, including the little red hen, who smiled and clucked, "I am grateful, for now I truly understand."
But her neighbors became quite disappointed in her.. She never again baked bread because she joined the "party" and got her bread free. And all the Democrats smiled.
'Fairness' had been established. Individual initiative had died but nobody noticed; perhaps no one cared, as long as there was free bread.
Some years ago, about 1900, an old trapper from North Dakota hitched up some horses to his Studebaker wagon, packed a few possessions --especially his traps --, and drove south. Several weeks later he stopped in a small town just north of the Okefenokee Swamp in Georgia.
It was a Saturday morning -- a lazy day -- when he walked into the general store. Sittings around the pot-bellied stove were seven or eight of the town's local citizens. The traveler spoke. "Gentlemen, could you direct me to the Okefenokee Swamp?" Some of the old-timers looked at him like he was crazy. "You must be a stranger in these parts," they said.
"I am. I'm from North Dakota," said the stranger. "In the Okefenokee Swamp are thousands of wild hogs." one old man explained. "A man who goes into the swamp by himself asks to die! He lifted up his leg. "I lost half my leg here, to the pigs of the swamp. Another old fellow said, "Look at the cuts on me; look at my arm bit off! Those pigs have been free since the Revolution, eating snakes, rooting out roots, and fending for themselves for over a hundred years. They're wild and they're dangerous. You can' t trap them. No man dare go into the swamp by himself. Every man nodded his head in agreement.
The old trapper said, "Thank you so much for the warning. Now could you direct me to the swamp? They said, "Well, yeah, it's due south -- straight down the road. But they begged the stranger not to go, because they knew he'd meet a terrible fate. He said, "Sell me ten sacks of corn, and help me load it in the wagon. And they did. Then the old trapper bid them farewell and drove on down the road. The townsfolk thought they'd never see him again. Two weeks later the man came back. He pulled up to the general store, got down off the wagon, walked in and bought ten more sacks of corn. After loading it up, he went back down the road toward the swamp.
Two weeks later he returned and again bought ten sacks of corn. This went on for a month. Then two months, and three. Every week or two the old trapper would come into town on a Saturday morning, load up ten sacks of corn, and drive off south into the swamp. The stranger soon became a legend in the little village and the subject of much speculation. People wondered what kind of devil had possessed this man that he could go into the Okefenokee by himself and not be consumed by the wild and free hogs.
One morning the man came into town as usual. Everyone thought he wanted more corn. He got off the wagon and went into the store where the usual groups of men were gathered around the stove. He took off his gloves. "Gentlemen," he said, "I need to hire about ten or fifteen wagons. I need twenty or thirty men. I have six thousand hogs out in the swamp, penned up, and they're all hungry. I've got to get them to market right away."
"You've WHAT in the swamp?" asked the storekeeper, incredulously. "I have six thousand hogs penned up. They haven't eaten for two or three days, and they'll starve if I don't get back there to feed and take care of them. One of the old-timers said, "You mean you've captured the wild hogs of the Okefenokee?"
"That's right."
"How did you do that? What did you do?" the men urged, breathlessly. One of them exclaimed, "But I lost my arm! "I lost my brother!" cried another. "I lost my leg to those wild boars!" chimed a third. The trapper said, "Well, the first week I went in there they were wild all right. They hid in the undergrowth and would not come out. I dared not get off the wagon. So, I spread corn along behind the wagon. Every day I would spread a sack of corn. The old pigs would have nothing to do with it. However, the younger pigs decided that it was easier to eat free corn than it was to root out roots and catch snakes. The very young began to eat the corn first. I did this every day. Soon, even the old pigs decided that it was easier to eat free corn. After all, they were all free; they were not penned up. They could run off in any direction they wanted at any time.
The next thing was to get them used to eating in the same place all the time. I selected a clearing, and I started putting the corn in the clearing. At first, they wouldn't come to the clearing. It was too far. It was too open. It was a nuisance to them. But the very young decided that it was easier to take the corn in the clearing than it was to root out roots and catch their own snakes. And not long thereafter, the older pigs also decided that it was easier to come to the clearing every day. So the pigs learned to come to the clearing every day to get their free corn. They could still subsidize their diet with roots and snakes and whatever else they wanted. After all, they were all free. They could run in any direction at any time. There were no bounds upon them.
The next step was to get them used to fence posts. So, I put fence posts all the way around the clearing. I put them in the underbrush so that they wouldn't get suspicious or upset. After all, they were just sticks sticking up out of the ground, like the trees and the brush. The corn was there every day. It was easy to walk in between the posts, get the corn, and walk back out. This went on for a week or two. Shortly they became very used to walking into the clearing, getting the free corn, and walking back out through the fence posts.
The next step was to put one rail down at the bottom. I also left a few openings, so that the older, fatter pigs could walk through the openings and the younger pigs could easily jump over just one rail. After all, it was no real threat to their freedom or independence. They could always jump over the rail and flee in any direction at any time. Now I decided that I would not feed them every day. I began to feed them every other day. On the days I didn't feed them the pigs still gathered in the clearing. They squealed, and they grunted, and they begged and pleaded with me to feed them. But I only fed them every other day. And I put a second rail around the posts.
Now the pigs became more and more desperate for food. Because now they were no longer used to going out and digging their own roots and finding their own food. They now needed me. They needed my corn every other day. So, I trained them that I would feed them every day if they came in through a gate. And I put up a third rail around the fence. But it was still no great threat to their freedom, because there were several gates and they could run in and out at will.
Finally, I put up the fourth rail. Then I closed all the gates but one, and I fed them very, very well. Yesterday I closed the last gate. And today I need you to help me take these pigs to market.
The price of free corn; the allegory of the pigs has a serious moral lesson. This story is about federal money being used to bait, trap, and enslave a once free and independent people. Federal welfare, in its myriad forms, has reduced not only individuals to a state of dependency. State and local governments are also on the fast track to elimination, due to their functions being subverted by the command and control structures of federal "revenue sharing" programs.
Theatrecide?
Here are the lyrics:
"The Trees"
There is unrest in the forest
There is trouble with the trees
For the maples want more sunlight
And the oaks ignore their pleas
The trouble with the maples
(And they're quite convinced they're right)
They say the oaks are just too lofty
And they grab up all the light
But the oaks can't help their feelings
If they like the way they're made
And they wonder why the maples
Can't be happy in their shade
There is trouble in the forest
And the creatures all have fled
As the maples scream 'Oppression!'
And the oaks just shake their heads
So the maples formed a union
And demanded equal rights
'The oaks are just too greedy
We will make them give us light'
Now there's no more oak oppression
For they passed a noble law
And the trees are all kept equal
By hatchet, axe and saw
It's the Doug Dinsdale and Spiney Norman sketch from Monty Python.
"Exactly," said the agent. "That is what makes our free enterprise system so wonderful. Anyone in the barnyard can earn as much as he wants. But under our modern government regulations, the productive workers must divide the fruits of their labor with those who are lazy and idle."
So the little red hen went home and polished her AK-47, and test fired it a few times, and spent the evening loading magazines.
The next morning, the little red hen went cheerfully to the barnyard. There, she opened fire.
ACK!!" said the cow.
"(gurgle)" said the duck.
"OH MY G-D" said the pig.
The goose said nothing. Her head had been blown clear off.
The little red hen then said, "NOW WHICH ONE OF YOU LAZY SHIFTLESS MOTHER****ERS WANT MY BREAD NOW??? HAH???? HAH???!??! Say 'allo to my little friend!"
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