Atheist Meditations: The Fable of the Two Rich Men

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

The Fable of the Two Rich Men

There once was a dark pestilence upon the land, and few Healers possessed a great enough gift to combat it. One such healer lived in a far off village, and many afflicted traveled for many days to reach her services. Often this was a journey without return, for dispite her great Talents and Compassion, the Healer could not cure all.

In her large hut there were many rooms, some rooms for those recovering from the illness, some for those who would not recover. Finding himself in one of the latter chambers, an aging man motioned for some menials to move his cot over next to the room's only other occupant. The illness affected much of the respitory system, but with effort they were able to converse.

"Fate is a cruel whore," the first man began, "for in my town I am the richest man. Now I shall die here alone, cut down by illness while yet in my prime."

The second man replied, "In my town I am also one of the richest men. Yet I shall not curse Fate, she's been like a wild mare for me - spirited and unpredictable, yet she has carried me far."

At this the first man shifted uncomfortably, partly from the pain of his bedsores, partly at the thought of expending his final breaths in discussion with a fucking poetical wussy. For a moment he considered directing himself to be returned to his corner, but decided to press on.

"If there is one consolation to my life," the first man continued, "It would be that although I have worked so hard, I have much to give my son. I can die easy, knowing that he will lead a long a successful life. On every transaction I made, I made sure that I came out on top. Some folks say I tried to own everything in the town - I say I diversified my assets. If the fields dry up and cut into the profitability of my ranching, we still have our mining and our casino. Every farmer for three days ride comes to our grainery for seed each spring, and after thirty years of feast and famine I've hooked every damn one on my line of credit. There is not a business in town that I don't either own outright or the owners ain't in my debt a year's profits. . . heh . . . heh . . . heh." He paused for a moment to have a bit of a wheezing fit, "Yeah, maybe Fate is a horse - then I rode her hard and fast. My boy could drink the next thirty years away and still not find bankruptcy at the bottem of a bottle. Hell, kinda hope he does. . . "

"I've heard about you," the second man responded after a time, "Seems Fate. . . seems she held back one last surprise for me. . . seems I get to leave this world lying next to a fucking fool."

The first man's hot temper flared one last time, "Didn't you hear me! I said I'm wealthy and my son's gonna get it all," his exclamation evident more in the strain upon his windpipe than an increase in volume. His outburst triggered another coughing, wheezing fit. After several minutes his breathing normalized, he realized Death was standing just behind him. "Enh," he finally continued, "I think Fate's a mule - and the fucking thing's standing on my fucking chest."

"One foot on your chest, one foot on my belly"

"You think we gonna be looking down on our families by tommorow morning?"

"Nah, I'd be nice, but I'm not bet'n on it."

"Me neither, them's just stories to tell children, I'm man enough to face death alone." They layed there for a few more minutes, then the first man pressed on. "So if you ain't a crazy, why you say I'm a fool? I've left plenty for my family - that's the best immortality I can think of."

The second man had known this question was coming, part of him wanted to save his dying companion some pain - a larger part wanted to be right. "Fate also gave me much, you could say I was 'blessed' or whatever. Instead of using the cycles of the harvest to trap the local farmers under a mountain of credit, we organized a community system where each farmer shares the profits and the risks. I heard about how you used the law and some goons to break up your miners from try'n to form a union. My son helped organize our union - we've had three men die in that mine in my entire life - how many died in your mine last year? We forged a partnership with the mercantilists on main street, they make a fair profit and sell goods to the workers at a reasonable price. Not a company story like you got in your town, where those poor bastards owe you more money than they could work off in another fifty years. 'Some of us make more, some less, but we all put money into the community chest', me boy came up with that slogan. Always liked it." He had to rest for a minute, his guts were hurting something awful. "Like when some man's wife be about to give birth - he ain't got to worry about pay'n some doctor or midwife - we all pay a little to run a small clinic. He's just got to worry about his woman, an that's enough worry'n"

"I thought you said you were rich like me. Your boy's a union miner?"

"We is rich, but not like you. If we did get to sit up in a cloud and watch our boys, who knows what Fate might hand them. But if tragedy struck and my family lost everything - I know my community would work together to get them back on their feet and productive again. You have beaten your community down into a bunch of starved dogs. Starved dogs gonna turn on your kids first sign 'o weakness."

The first man thought about it for a minute, coughed up some more blood and replied, "Enh, your full of shit." With those words, he died.

The second man smiled, perhaps finding one last iota of wisdom and understanding from his discussion. It had distracted him from the terrible agony in his stomach. Later that night, his life also came to an end.

# posted by Aurelius : 18.4.06