FABLES: somehow it’s my fault

Sunday, October 7, 2007

http://www.joblatino.com/jokes/managers.html

High Flying PM

*** begin quote ***

A man is flying in a hot air balloon and realizes he is lost. He reduces height and spots a man down below. He lowers the balloon further and shouts: “Excuse me, can you help me? I promised my friend. I would meet him half an hour ago, but I don’t know where I am.”

The man below says, “Yes, you are in a hot air balloon, hovering approximately 30 feet above this field. You are between 40 and 42 degrees North latitude, and between 58 and 60 degrees West longitude.”

“You must be a programmer,” says the balloonist.

“I am,” replies the man. “How did you know?”

“Well,” says the balloonist, “everything you have told me is technically correct, but I have no idea what to make of your information, and the fact is I am still lost.”

The man below says, “You must be a project manager”

“I am,” replies the balloonist, “but how did you know?”

“Well,” says the man, “you don’t know where you are or where you are going. You have made a promise which you have no idea how to keep, and you expect me to solve your problem. The fact is you are in the exact same position you were in before we met, but now it is somehow my fault.”

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Kudos to my favorite Luddite for sourcing this for me. I always loved this one.

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FABLES: Roald Dahl’s version of “Little Red Riding Hood”

Thursday, September 13, 2007

http://www.clairewolfe.com/wolfesblog/00002675.html

*** begin quote ***

WELL, WELL. Google features this celebratory graphic today.* I had no idea what it meant until I ran my cursor over it and got “Roal Dahl’s birthday.” What a terrific thing to Googleate.

Since the topic today seems to be Things Literary … I just finished reading Roald Dahl’s Revolting Rhymes (on the recommendation, I think, of DA). I was going to blog later about this iconoclast classic. But since it’s Dahl’s special day, here’s a quote from his version of “Little Red Riding Hood”:

He sat there watching her and smiled
He thought, I’m going to eat this child.
Compared with her old Grandmamma
She’s going to taste like caviare.

Then Little Red Riding Hood said, “But Grandma,
what a lovely great big furry coat you have on.”

“That’s wrong!” cried Wolf. “Have you forgot
“To tell me what BIG TEETH I’ve got?
“Ah well, no matter what you say,
“I’m going to eat you anyway.”
The small girl smiles. One eyelid flickers.
She whips a pistol from her knickers.
She aims it at the creature’s head
And bang, bang, bang, she shoots him dead.

Ms. Hood — and her new wolfskin coat — also turn up later to play a pivotal role in the tale of the three little pigs. :-)

Happy birthday (even if truly and totally belated, since he died in 1990), Roald Dahl.

*** end quote ***

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FABLES: You’re a Congressman (Consultant!)

Monday, August 27, 2007

FROM MY FAVORITE LUDDITE:

I have seen this recycled a few times, mostly as a ‘consultant’, but I like this version better. :-)
———————————————————————————————————
A Montana cowboy was overseeing his herd in a remote mountainous pasture when suddenly a brand-new BMW advanced out of a dust cloud towards him.

The driver, a young man in a Brioni suit, Gucci shoes, Ray Ban sunglasses and YSL tie, leans out the window and asks the cowboy, “If I tell you exactly how many animals you have in your herd, will you give Me a calf?”

The cowboy looks at the man, obviously a yuppie, then looks at his peacefully grazing herd and calmly answers, “Sure, Why not?”

The yuppie parks his car, whips out his Dell notebook computer, connects it to his Cingular RAZR V3 cell phone, and surfs to a NASA page on the Internet, where he calls up a GPS satellite navigation system to get an exact fix on his location which he then feeds to another NASA Satellite that scans the area in an ultra-high- resolution photo.

The young man then opens the digital photo in Adobe Photoshop and exports it to an image processing facility in Hamburg, Germany. Within seconds, he receives an email on his Palm Pilot that the image has been processed and the data stored. He then accesses an MS-SQL database through an ODBC connected Excel spreadsheet with email on his Blackberry and, after a few minutes, receives a response.

Finally, he prints out a full-color, 150-page report on his hi-tech, miniaturized HP LaserJet printer and finally turns to the cowboy and says: “You have exactly 1,586 cows and calves.” “That’s right. Well, I guess you can take one of my calves,” says the cowboy. He watches the young man select one of the animals and looks on amused as the young man stuffs it into the trunk of his car.

Then the cowboy says to the young man; “Hey, if I can tell you exactly what your business is, will you give me back my calf?”

The young man thinks about it for a second and then says, “Okay, why not?”

You’re a Congressman for the U .S. Government”, says the cowboy.

“Wow! That’s correct,” says the yuppie, “but how did you guess that?”

“No guessing required.” answered the cowboy. “You showed up here even though nobody called you; want to get paid for an answer I already knew, to a question I never asked. You tried to show me how much smarter than me you are; and you don’t know a thing about cows…this is a herd of sheep. Now give me back my dog “.

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ROFL~

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FABLES: THE WILD AND FREE PIGS OF OKEFENOKEE SWAMP

Sunday, July 29, 2007

http://reactor-core.org/fable-okefenokee.html

THE WILD AND FREE PIGS OF OKEFENOKEE SWAMP
by Steve Washam
based on a telling by George Gordon

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. Sitting 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 thosuands 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 and 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 bade them farewell and drove on down the road. The townsfolk thought theyd 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 more sacks of corn. This went on for a month. And 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 group 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 got WHAT in the swamp?” asked the store-keeper, 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 man 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 under-growth and wouldn’t come out. I dared not get off the wagon. So I spread corn along behind the wagon. Every day, I’d spread a sack of corn.”

“The old pigs would have nothing to do with it. But, the younger pigs decided that it was easier to eat free corn than it was to root out roots and catch snakes. So, the very young began to eat the corn first. I did this every day. Pretty 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. So I selected a clearing. At first, they wouldnt 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.”

“And so the pigs learned to come to the clearing every day to get their free corn. They could still subsidize their diets 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 wouldnt 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 not a 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 wouldn’t feed them every day. I began to feed them every other day. On the days I didnt feed them, the pigs still gathered in the clearing. They squealed, and they grunted, and they begged, and they 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 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 other 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 those pigs to market.”

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FABLES: “Three Blind Men and an Elephant”

Friday, July 6, 2007

http://www.noogenesis.com/pineapple/blind_men_elephant.html

This is a timeless cross cultural imho reprise of the Johari window

*** begin quote ***

“Three Blind Men and an Elephant”

One day, three blind men happened to meet each other and gossiped a long time about many things. Suddenly one of them recalled, ” I heard that an elephant is a queer animal. Too bad we’re blind and can’t see it.”

“Ah, yes, truly too bad we don’t have the good fortune to see the strange animal,” another one sighed.

The third one, quite annoyed, joined in and said, “See? Forget it! Just to feel it would be great.”

“Well, that’s true. If only there were some way of touching the elephant, we’d be able to know,” they all agreed.

It so happened that a merchant with a herd of elephants was passing, and overheard their conversation. “You fellows, do you really want to feel an elephant? Then follow me; I will show you,” he said.

The three men were surprised and happy. Taking one another’s hand, they quickly formed a line and followed while the merchant led the way. Each one began to contemplate how he would feel the animal, and tried to figure how he would form an image.

After reaching their destination, the merchant asked them to sit on the ground to wait. In a few minutes he led the first blind man to feel the elephant. With outstretched hand, he touched first the left foreleg and then the right. After that he felt the two legs from the top to the bottom, and with a beaming face, turned to say, “So, the queer animal is just like that.” Then he slowly returned to the group.

Thereupon the second blind man was led to the rear of the elephant. He touched the tail which wagged a few times, and he exclaimed with satisfaction, “Ha! Truly a queer animal! Truly odd! I know now. I know.” He hurriedly stepped aside.

The third blind man’s turn came, and he touched the elephant’s trunk which moved back and forth turning and twisting and he thought, “That’s it! I’ve learned.”

The three blind men thanked the merchant and went their way. Each one was secretly excited over the experience and had a lot to say, yet all walked rapidly without saying a word.

“Let’s sit down and have a discussion about this queer animal,” the second blind man said, breaking the silence.

“A very good idea. Very good.” the other two agreed for they also had this in mind.
Without waiting for anyone to be properly seated, the second one blurted out, “This queer animal is like our straw fans swinging back and forth to give us a breeze. However, it’s not so big or well made. The main portion is rather wispy.”

“No, no!” the first blind man shouted in disagreement. “This queer animal resembles two big trees without any branches.”

“You’re both wrong.” the third man replied. “This queer animal is similar to a snake; it’s long and round, and very strong.”

How they argued! Each one insisted that he alone was correct. Of course, there was no conclusion for not one had thoroughly examined the whole elephant. How can anyone describe the whole until he has learned the total of the parts.

*** end quote ***

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FABLES: The pony in the dung heap

Tuesday, June 12, 2007

http://www.nationalreview.com/interrogatory/robinson200312230101.asp

*** begin quote ***

Lopez: What’s your most treasured life lesson inspired by RWR?

Robinson: That one’s easy. The pony in the dung heap.

It was Reagan’s favorite joke.

Worried that their son was too optimistic, the parents of a little boy took him to a psychiatrist. Trying to dampen the boy’s spirits, the psychiatrist showed him into a room piled high with nothing but horse manure. Yet instead of displaying distaste, the little boy clambered to the top of the pile, dropped to all fours, and began digging. “What do you think you’re doing?” the psychiatrist asked. “With all this manure,” the little boy replied, beaming, “there must be a pony in here somewhere.”

To Reagan, the pony in the dung heap was more than a gag. It was an approach to life.

Reagan’s father was a drunk. His first wife divorced him. And just as he was starting his second family, the motion-picture industry turned away from good-natured, sunny actors such as Reagan himself to dark, brooding actors such as Marlon Brando and James Dean, leaving Reagan out of work for months at a time (family finances grew so tight at one point that Mrs. Reagan had to return to acting, accepting a part in a third-rate science fiction flick called Donovan’s Brain). Yet in each of these misfortunes, Reagan seems to have insisted upon finding good.

“A lot of people have a mistaken conception of free will,” Rev. Lorenzo Albacete, a priest I got to know during the Reagan years, once told me. “They think exercising free will means choosing their own reality. Try hard enough, and you can make yourself rich or famous or beautiful — that kind of thing. Well, man, I’m sorry. But it just ain’t so. Nobody gets to choose his parents. Nobody gets to choose whether he’s good looking or ugly or whether he’s intelligent or stupid. We all have to take reality as it comes to us — presidents, popes, all of us.

“The question is what you choose to do with reality. Reagan never permitted his misfortunes to interfere with his development as a human person. Instead he used them. All his life Reagan exercised his free will by choosing to seek the good in reality as it came to him.

“The pony in the dung heap?” Father Albacete said. “That’s it. That’s the entire anthropology of human existence. You become a complete person by digging for the pony in the midst of all the crap life throws at you.”

*** end quote ***

Now let me get back to looking for my “pony”!

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FABLES: Five Frogs

Monday, June 11, 2007

QUESTION:

Five frogs were sitting on a log. Four decided to jump off. How many were left?

ANSWER:

Five.

Why?

Because there’s a difference between deciding and doing.

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FABLES: A Tale of Two Cities (Not Dickens; the other one!)

Saturday, June 9, 2007

A Tale of Two Cities

A traveler nearing a great city, asked an elderly man seated by the wayside,

“What are the people like in the city?”

“How were the people where you came from?”

“A terrible lot,” the traveler responded.
“Mean, untrustworthy, detestable in all respects.”

“Ah,” said the man,
“you will find them the same in the city ahead.”

Scarcely was the first traveler gone when another one stopped
and also inquired about the people in the city before him.

Again the old man asked about the people in the place the
traveler had left.

“They were fine people; honest, industrious, and generous to a fault.
I was sorry to leave,” declared the second traveler.

The wise man responded:
“So you will find them in the city ahead.”

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FABLES: The Third Stone Mason

Monday, May 28, 2007

*** begin quote ***

One spring day a man was walking down a street when he encountered a large construction site. Because he was naturally curious and had a moment to spare, he decided to see what was being built. He came upon a stonemason laying stones and asked him what he was doing. The stonemason replied, “I am laying stones.” The man continued walking and came upon a second stonemason. He asked, “What are you doing?” The second stonemason replied, “I am building a wall.” The man continued walking and came upon a third stonemason. Again he asked, “What are you doing?” And this third stonemason replied, “I am building a cathedral.” Three men – all working at the same site, performing the same task – each had three very different perspectives of what they were working toward.

*** end quote ***

Moral: Guard your thinking against the narrow view?

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