Fable | The master and the young progressive

A young progressive visits a far off land and finds wisdom he does not care for.

Tom X Hart
Sep 2, 2018 · 4 min read

A young progressive heard the master preaching in the market place about the foolish errors that had come into the world: democracy, feminism, open borders, and so on.

The young progressive approached the master and said, “You want to go back to an imaginary past that never really existed!”

The master said, “The imaginary is the only thing that exists, and there is only one thing I imagine: the path of life. You have left the path, and I am only reminding you to return.”

“If your imaginary path is the only thing that exists, how can I leave it?” asked the young progressive.

“You only imagine that you have left the path. When you are older, you will see that you were on it all the time,” replied the master.

The young progressive said, “You want to put borders between people, and yet you wander all over the world like a nomad. You are a hypocrite!”

The master replied, “Yes, but if there were no borders, how would I know that I was wandering?”

_

The young progressive said, “You claim to be a holy man and yet you talk about women as if they are property or pieces of meat! We should respect women!”

The master replied, “I like my piece of meat to be well prepared and well seasoned so it is tasty in my mouth. To ensure my meat is tasty, I like to see cattle fed and cared for, spices prepared, and that my kitchen is in order. It is only because I want tasty meat that I respect cattle. As for women, it is only because I want attractive women and enjoy sex that I respect them. Respect comes after desire and possession.”

“Women aren’t your property!” objected the young progressive.

“I take care of my property because I want to enjoy it,” said the master, “I maintain my car because I like to drive. I take care of my great black robes because I want people to admire my fine dress. I repair my house because I do not want the rain to come in. I care for and love women because I want to possess them and use them well.”

“That sounds like being a pimp,” said the young progressive.

“The pimp does not own women, and that is the problem,” said the master. “The pimp takes unowned women and rents them out for others to use. It is because the pimp does not come to own a woman through marriage that he cannot care for her. As you know, rental properties are not as well cared for as properties that are owned. And, as you also know, pimps are very keen to tell their girls that they ‘love’ them. I never tell my lovers that I love them, for that is the essence of abuse. I merely own them as my property and keep them in good repair.”

“You are oppressive and a tyrant. I believe in democracy! The majority must decide!” said the young progressive.

The master turned to the market place. “Do you agree with me or the young man? Speak now.”

“We agree with you, master,” shouted the market place, almost in unison.

“The majority agrees with me,” said the master.

“But the people are wrong. The majority are wrong,” said the young progressive, “I am right. In this case, the majority are mistaken and I am right.”

“Indeed,” said the master, raising one eyebrow slightly.

“The majority, I admit, can sometimes be wrong,” said the young progressive. “What is needed to a wise person to guide them and tell them, gently, when they are mistaken and to correct their decisions.”

“And where would we find such a person?” said the master.

“I could do it!” said the young progressive, “I went to a very good university and got top marks in my law exams!”

“You will correct us?”

“Yes. Until people learn to vote the right way, I will decide for them,” said the young progressive.

The master raised an eyebrow to form a high arch, and the people in the market place who had gathered to watch the debate roared with laughter until the young progressive’s face was flushed red.

“How did you come to believe these horrible things?” said the young progressive. “You are prejudiced, intolerant, and bigoted!”

The master took a deep breath, “A long time ago I knew a young man who believed in socialism, democracy, feminism, equality, and open borders. This young man travelled to many places and saw many things, and what he saw with his eyes defied what he believed. He grew evermore hysterical as the things that happened in his life did not conform to his beliefs. The more reality defied his ideas about it, the more he would lecture people and even refuse to use the true names for things. This got worse and worse until, one day, he vanished.”

“What happened to him? Did he die or run away?”

“Nobody is sure exactly,” said the master, “but my brother insists that I looked identical to that young man when I was that age.”

Welcome to a place where words matter. On Medium, smart voices and original ideas take center stage - with no ads in sight. Watch
Follow all the topics you care about, and we’ll deliver the best stories for you to your homepage and inbox. Explore
Get unlimited access to the best stories on Medium — and support writers while you’re at it. Just $5/month. Upgrade