The Man in the Mirror
The man looked in the mirror and liked what he saw. How could he not? The face staring back was handsome, intelligent, and kind, all of which he surmised as the result of his profound insight into human nature. Other people may have felt the same about their own image. There was one big difference, however, they were looking at them, and not him. Had they looked at him, instead of them, they too, would have seen, even as he sees. But they didn’t. Therefore, they could not be trusted.
To make things worse, he was rich and famous and they weren’t. If the Universe liked them, as much as him, they would be rich and famous, too. It was easy enough to explain. So, why didn’t they listen and agree?
“Stop arguing! How can you deny my good looks, my burgeoning bank account, and my widespread fame? They were wrong!" He concluded. It was as simple as that. No further explanation was necessary. Then the man thought to himself, “If I go about lecturing those who are inferior to me. Surely, they will listen to one so handsome and rich.”
But, the people did not listen. Oh, maybe some did. But most just went about their business, indifferent to his handsomeness and obvious wisdom.
“I know! I’ll lobby Congress, to pass a law. That way they’ll have to listen. If that doesn’t work, there’s always prison!”
Yes. This was his vision of America. It was also the vision of those like him.
“I mean, just look around. For those of us born with high degrees of handsomeness and certain kinds of talent, the sky’s the limit, which only proves that the Universe likes us best. And once Congress gets on board and passes a law, forcing people to listen to everything we say, the world’s problems will be solved.”
He then whispered a silent “Amen!” So no one else could hear, lest they become jealous of the Universes preference for people like himself.
But someone did overhear his cautious prayer and asked:
“What do you people call yourselves?”
“Celebrities.” That’s what we’re called. He responded. Now, enough of your foolish questions! Just do as we say. Or else! You got that!”
And, so, he lobbied Congress, knowing that they would clearly see the logic of it all and swiftly comply. If not, well, he would make a big donation to their campaigns—because of kindness and such—and that would probably do it. After all, why else would the Universe make him rich, if not to use on behalf of mankind, womankind, or whatever-kind was popular at the moment?
“How enlightened!” He thought as he marveled at his own marvelousness, and then he waited for the echo in his head to confirm the truthfulness of it all.
“I mean, what other evidence is necessary? None, I guess. None at all.”
Wilbur Post
To make things worse, he was rich and famous and they weren’t. If the Universe liked them, as much as him, they would be rich and famous, too. It was easy enough to explain. So, why didn’t they listen and agree?
“Stop arguing! How can you deny my good looks, my burgeoning bank account, and my widespread fame? They were wrong!" He concluded. It was as simple as that. No further explanation was necessary. Then the man thought to himself, “If I go about lecturing those who are inferior to me. Surely, they will listen to one so handsome and rich.”
But, the people did not listen. Oh, maybe some did. But most just went about their business, indifferent to his handsomeness and obvious wisdom.
“I know! I’ll lobby Congress, to pass a law. That way they’ll have to listen. If that doesn’t work, there’s always prison!”
Yes. This was his vision of America. It was also the vision of those like him.
“I mean, just look around. For those of us born with high degrees of handsomeness and certain kinds of talent, the sky’s the limit, which only proves that the Universe likes us best. And once Congress gets on board and passes a law, forcing people to listen to everything we say, the world’s problems will be solved.”
He then whispered a silent “Amen!” So no one else could hear, lest they become jealous of the Universes preference for people like himself.
But someone did overhear his cautious prayer and asked:
“What do you people call yourselves?”
“Celebrities.” That’s what we’re called. He responded. Now, enough of your foolish questions! Just do as we say. Or else! You got that!”
And, so, he lobbied Congress, knowing that they would clearly see the logic of it all and swiftly comply. If not, well, he would make a big donation to their campaigns—because of kindness and such—and that would probably do it. After all, why else would the Universe make him rich, if not to use on behalf of mankind, womankind, or whatever-kind was popular at the moment?
“How enlightened!” He thought as he marveled at his own marvelousness, and then he waited for the echo in his head to confirm the truthfulness of it all.
“I mean, what other evidence is necessary? None, I guess. None at all.”
Wilbur Post