If War Were An Animal — Fable Offers Definitive Answer

A few nights ago, Jimmy Fallon joked that Kim Jong-un was feeling neglected with all the ink being spilled over Matt Lauer (and, by the time you read this, probably some other famous man): “And then Kim Jong-un was like, ‘Um, did you guys not see that missile yesterday or — ? I mean, I know you’re busy, but I can relaunch it or something.’”

The situation with North Korea would be the stuff of nightmares even if Trump weren’t in power. But he is.

Our animal friends are here to shed a little light.

And Kim Jong-un, please know that we are paying attention, even in the midst of so much other noise — a button under his desk to remotely lock his office door? Matt Lauer, that is, not you, KJU.

One fine morning, Dame Weasel, took possession of the castle of a young rabbit. She was canny. The master was absent, so it was easy for her. One day, when he had left at dawn to enjoy a romp in the thyme and the dew, she brought over her personal altar icons.

After he’d foraged, and hopped here and there and done all his rounds, John-O Rabbit came back to his subterranean dwelling.

The Weasel had her nose to the window.

Oh gods of hospitality! What have we here? Cried the animal chased from his family home. Hola! Madame Weasel, it’s about time you leave and without any fanfare, or I’ll alert all the rats around here.

The lady with the pointed nose responded that the land belonged to the first comer. Well those were fighting words. And about a meager dwelling that he himself had to squeeze into.

And when it’s a kingdom, I’d like to know, she said, where the law came from that passes things by heredity, to John, son or nephew of Peter or of William, rather than to Paul; rather than to me.

John Rabbit alleged custom and use.

Those are the laws, he said, that entitle me to my home, make me its master and lord and which, from father to son, passed it from Peter to Simon and then to me, John. The first comer, is that a wiser law?

Fine then, she said, no use carrying on like this. Let’s go to see GrabsAllHeCan.

He was a cat who lived like a devoted hermit. A hypocrite of a cat. A saint of a cat. He was well fed, big and fat; the expert arbiter in all cases. John Rabbit agreed on him for judge.

The two arrived before his over-nourished majesty.

GrabsAllHeCan said to them: My children, come closer. Closer. The years have made me deaf.

One and the other approached, thinking nothing of it. As soon as the cat saw that the parties were within reach, GrabsAllHeCan, the good apostle, threw out his claws from both sides at once, bringing the parties to an agreement by eating one and then the other.

This bears a strong resemblance to the arguments that little landowners sometimes bring to kings.

I have a request for our Young Rabbit, who sure does enjoy his trots around the green, and the North Korean Dame, sassing her weasel nose at our window: Please do not visit that expert arbiter, the Cat of War.

What are these Fableogs?

And in case you’re wondering, what are these fableogs?


Originally published at www.huffingtonpost.com on December 1, 2017.

Tagged in North Korea, Fable, Fable, Matt Lauer

By Mina Samuels on December 1, 2017.

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Exported from Medium on March 17, 2018.



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