Becoming The Muse

Of Dumb Asses

Once upon a time, in a chiefdom far far away, a chief decided to go on hunting trip. Before he setting off, he called up the royal weather forecaster, a man whose forecasting skills were supposedly as reliable as sunrise follows sunset. The forecaster, assured the chief that it would be a perfect day to go hunt.

Feeling reassured, the chief took his favourite wife and set forth. Along the way, they came across a farmer jauntily riding his donkey. The farmer looked at the chief, then the sky, then the chief again, and said, “My Lord, I’d turn around if I were you. There’s a storm brewing up quicker than a witch brews tea.”

The chief, who considered his royal meteorologist a veritable weather wizard, chuckled at the farmer. “Thank you, but I’ve got more faith in the forecast from an educated and experienced official whom I reward with the finest gems. He assured me we’re in for sun and shine.”

Ignoring the farmer’s advice, the royal couple continued on their merry way. But before long, the sky threw a tantrum and the rain came pouring down. The chief and his wife were instantly transformed from dignified royalty into a soggy mess…

Infuriated and now looking like drowned rats, the chief stormed back to the palace. He fired the royal meteorologist with a dramatic flair, “You are fired!”  and then, with a theatrical flourish, summoned the farmer. “You, you’re hired as the new royal forecaster!” he declared.

The farmer, scratching his head, replied, “But Your Majesty, I don’t know the first thing about forecasting. I just watch my donkey. When his ears droop, it’s a sign we’re about to get a soaking.”

The king, finding this remarkably simple and refreshingly honest, decided the donkey himself would be a fitting candidate for the job. Thus began the tradition of appointing dumb asses to high office—a practice that continues to this very day.

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A story I heard….