Holiday Edition

Once upon a time…

     On a farm, I mean, universe, some 37 degrees from here at a green angle, there were two plantation owners, no, I mean, gods, that's right, gods, and these two gods, named Uberzoplay and, Mister Charlie, were sitting on the front veranda, sipping veranda style drinks, when Uberzo said, “How is it that you seem to spend so little time in having to directly oversee your workers?  You're always out playing golf, and snoozing, and I have to spend almost all my time just seeing that my hands stay on the job. How do you do it?”

     Mister Charlie leaned back in his sipping chair and smiled. “Well, I'll tell you.  You are right, other than shippin’ ‘em out a flood, or some brimstone now and then, I got my people operating almost entirely on their own without no proddin’ from me, and I'll tell you how I did it.”

     “Back when I first made, I mean, invented, no, I mean, hired, yeah, hired my workers, I made ‘em into two separate groups of “this-and-that,” least that's what I call it, and this made-up arrangement makes ever swingin’-dick-of-‘em believe that he, or she, is eternally in conflict with at least half of all the other hands.  And that's all there is to it.  I just breed ‘em now so that they're born feeling the experience of this division into two conflicting groups of “this-and-that,”  “us-or-them,” or anything you wanna’ call it, and now I don't have to always be standing over ‘em with a whip, or stick; they got this natural born irritation built right into ‘em, so the friction  energy to work is always there, just as close, and natural as their own sweet breath.”

     “Wait a minute," said Uberzo, “Just exactly what are the things you've made them believe divides them, and makes the conflict to keep them going?”  “Hell,” said Mister Charlie, “Ain't no ‘exact-ness’ needed, once I got the deal all arranged, and operating, they just conflicts on almost anything that can cross a field hand’s mind, or liver.”

     Mister Charlie, right here, laughed real good, took a swaller and continued, “They'll conflict over the weather, the time of day, how fast some ole mule’ll run, how fast a belief’ll go.  You just wouldn't believe it; they keep themselves all worked up all the time, over stuff that don't mean spit, but there it is.  That's how I done it, and I'm just as proud as warm piss.”

     Uberzo was lookin’ kinda peeved, and Charlie said, “You're just mad you didn't think of it.”

J.