Skip to main content

Aesop's fabled frogs ask for a king



The bellyaching below went to a scrotum-crunching pitch.


Sore at the din of whines streaming off a pond, an incensed Bathala stormed down from heavens to face a gaggle of 54-million strong croakers who wanted an audience with the deity.


“And what is it that you, pitiable pestering crackpots turning this pond water into whine, what is it you whine for this time? I have already given you a king! A king that you all deserve,” thundered the deity. “You insufferable nincompoops can only get what you deserve. Did I not make myself clear on that point?”


Chorus of croakers whined some more: “We want a fresh mandate of heaven. A new deal is what we deserve. Whatever you gave us was an insufferable computer game addict whose only lasting legacy bequeathed to us was a word annoying-- noynoying.”


“You only get what you deserve,” reiterated the deity.


“And we deserve a fresh mandate of heaven, do we not? Not the log you have tossed down here. It’s rotten and would rot some more,” bellyached the throng.


“You’re getting what you deserve. And you’re really getting on my nerves,” deadpanned the deity. “Did I not tell you that whatever addled matter you have in your skulls is largely of water, and water seeks its own level, eh? Level up!”


“We’ve had enough of the ordeal. We beg you; we implore you for a new deal.”


“You get better, you get better. You get denser, that’s what you all get-- denser,” roared the deity as he soared skyward, leaving a blast furnace spell of the electoral exercise that was to come to pass.


As the inert, useless log was shoved away, it came to pass that a fresh mandate of heaven came and held sway—a nightmare come true for the croaking throng, a stork with its beak filthy as the morass the pond had become.




Famished for flesh, the stork began its feeding frenzy, engorging its belly with a stash of some P2.4 billion in undeclared funds, picking at and eviscerating emaciated bodies of the poor croakers—and they croaked some more croaking, whining and weeping at their sorry turn of fate.


And Bathala could only look down in askance, hurling out a too-late reminder, “You had it coming, croakers. You get better, you get better. You get denser, well, that’s what you get.


“Too bad, even Aesop from which this fable had been cribbed always puts the moral lesson at the tale’s end. Or is it tail-end? Or is it you really haven’t learned after all these series of asking for deals and ordeals?”

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

ALAMAT NG TAHONG

SAKBIBI ng agam-agam sa kalagayan ng butihing kabiyak-- at kabiyakan, opo-- na nakaratay sa karamdaman, ang pumalaot na mangingisda ay napagawi sa paanan ng dambuhalang Waczim-- isang bathala na nagkakaloob sa sinuman anumang ibulwak ng bibig mula sa bukal ng dibdib. Pangangailangan sa salapi na pambili ng gamot ng kapilas-pusong maysakit ang nakasaklot sa puso ng matandang mangingisda. 'Di kaginsa-ginsa'y bumundol ang kanyang bangka sa paanan ng Waczim. Kagy at umigkas ang katagang kimkim noon sa kanyang dibdib: "Salapi!" Bumuhos ng salapi-- mga butil at gilit ng ginto-- mula papawirin. At halos umapaw sa ginto ang bangka ng nagulantang na mangingisda, walang pagsidlan ang galak, at walang humpay ang pasasalamat sa mga bathala. Nanumbalik ang kalusugan ng kabiyak ng mangingisda. At lumago ang kabuhayan, naging mariwasa ang magkapilas-puso na dating maralita. Nilasing ng kanyang mga dating kalapit-bahay ang mangingisda-- na hindi ikina...
Post a Comment
Read more

Cal y canto con camote

FENG shui (literally, wind water flow) lore has it root crops embody a hidden store of treasures. Say, a local food conglomerate needs yearly 35,000 metric tons of cassava for livestock feed-- the available local supply falls short of 13,000 tons. Cassava granules sell for around P9 a kilo. Demand for the same root crop to be used in liquor manufacturing is hitting above the roof. Why, raising cassava is a no-brainer task— this is one tough crop that can grow in the most hostile patches of earth, providing sustenance for ages to dwellers in sub-Saharan parts of Africa. While the hardy cassava is nearly pure starch, the lowly sweet potato or kamote is considered by nutritionists as a super food, the most nutritious of all vegetables— kamote levels of Vitamin A are “off the charts, rich in antioxidants and anti-inflammatory properties.” A fist-sized kamote can supply a day’s dose of glucose to fuel the brain, muscles, and organs, so they claim. Count the country lucky...
Post a Comment
Read more

Wealth garden

‘TWAS CRUEL as smashing a budding green thumb: some years back, an abuela warned me about letting any clump of katigbi (Job’s tears or Coix lachrymal jobi for you botanists) from growing in our homeyard. That grass with rapier-like leaves that smelled of freshly pounded pinipig supposedly invited bad luck and sorrows—why, that biblical character Job wailed and howled a lot, didn’t he? (But was later rewarded with oodles of goodies, wasn’t he?) Then, I came across some arcane text that practically goaded folks to grow katigbi in their gardens—why, there’s a starchy kernel wrapped shut in the seed’s shiny coat. A handful or more of kernels could be cooked as porridge. Too, one could whisper a wish upon seven seed pods, throw ‘em pods in running water—a river or stream—and the wish would be granted! I was warned, too, about planting kapok or talisay trees right in the homeyard—these trees form a cross-like branching pattern. Pasang-krus daw ang bahay na kalapit sa puno ng kapok, tal...
Post a Comment
Read more