There was so much turmoil around the Kingdom of Cows. For too long, all of the cows were too lean, and milk was badly lacking.
Milk shortage was such a disastrous misfortune and a dramatic disgrace, as milk was the foundation and the bond that kept the Kingdom united.
The well offs, those who got plenty of milk, were always looking for new and more advanced solutions for milking the cows all the time.
Yet, curiously, the same process that produced the abundance of milk, made cows ill and exhausted.
So much so that indignation was on the rise throughout the Kingdom. Protests traveled from end to end, “We can’t stand seeing the well-offs swimming in milk while we have barely enough. It is amoral”, some questioned, and they were soon supported by many followers wondering the same. Was it a question of what’s moral, or?
Depending on the year, the Kingdom of Cows was ruled by the Fat Cow League or the Milk Sharing Alliance. The two factions were always fighting each other, and no matter which one was in charge, all the common cows became too lean to produce anything, and their constant cycle and supply of abundant milk ended, and the awful ghost of austerity came out to start haunting.
The Fat Cow League supported the claims by breeders for having more and more milk to facilitate more resources and get the cows fat; “It doesn’t matter if the cows are more exploited”, they maintained, “What’s matter is to have milk, and if we have, then others will also”
The Milk Sharing Alliance, led by those whose trade was to care about the Kingdom’s supremacy—something that was not only strategic but even vital—insisted for having the well-offs shell out a good part of their milk to be given to the less fortunate, a small portion indeed, and use most of it to sustain the gigantic apparatus for ensuring Kingdom’s survival. The Milk Sharing Alliance had many followers among the worse-offs, although no hint of terminating once and for all with that milk production system was in their agenda, nor was it their remotest intention.
Yet, no surprise, many others among the worse-offs propped up the cause of the Fat Cow League!!
The two factions turned along the same wheel, much more entangled with one another than they ever knew.
In point of fact, although the Kingdom of Cows prided pompous proclaims of independence, of freedom and happiness, all the people were obligated to serve milk production in total submission. It was such a prevailing oppression that it hid itself so well to infiltrate their skin and soak their gloomy minds, making their lives definitely miserable.
Harry Cow, nomen omen, a man whose name implied his own fate, was one of the well offs in the Kingdom, and a major representative of the Fat Cow League. Harry wasn’t born amidst the milk; on the contrary, he had to do a lot of elbowing to get to the top. He knew a thing or two as to how to show a reassuring smile and yet ruthlessly make the best out of any circumstance, no matter who had to pay the consequences. Nothing could stop him if he wanted more milk to fill up his tanks. He had always known that no milk meant no life, so, he did what it needed to be done. As the rest of his fellow countrymen, his deeds and aims were pushed by want and need.
Stu Row, instead, was a man of humble origin who had nothing to give but his hands to make a living. He was burnt by the sun and drained by toiling all the day long, insomuch that he himself was a prisoner and sweated like a cow. He was one of the worse-off among so many others, but he had managed to see something that others had not. A light had lit his mind, and he had distinguished his meager condition, his slavery and his total dependence on milk, and although that was everybody’s status, it was very hard for the others to realize their own addiction.
One day he paused to reflect, “I’ve spent most of my life thinking it was fairer to take some of the milk from the well-offs and share it with the less fortunate, noble thinking indeed. Even some of the well offs support this viewpoint. Yet, this does not resolve the thorny question as to how to get the cows milking at maximum capacity all the time, and milk is what everybody needs for doing everything. Thinking, or having sex, milk is all you need. If there was ever a way to make life suck, we’ve got the best ever. Huh, what a wonderful feeling!!”
Like in a crescendo Stu’s meditations went further.
“How can one become so cowardly to accept this cruelty and even insist on having it work this way forever? Well, I need more milk, and I can get more milk only if I have cows milking at maximum capacity all the time. This means that all we have to do is to fatten the cow, because only when the cow is fat, it can milk well, and abundantly. What about overproduction? How to take full advantage of it in a system that works only if milk is continually produced and destroyed? It is conceivable to produce more and more milk, and to be fed by milk in turn. Besides, you can’t milk a cow all the time with any hope it keeps milking forever. Thus, although you fatten the cow, sooner or later, it will be depleted. Well then, if the cows get exhausted and milk no longer, how do I get the milking system working the way it is supposed to be? Oh, damn! I already hear the ground trembling, and devastation taking over. Not to mention that all these people are willing to do anything, even if it meant killing their mothers to get some milk. Wouldn’t it be far more advisable to send all the milk to hell and let those poor cows go free to enjoy their life? Neither am I so criminal, nor so stupid or craven to wish for the cow to get fattened over and over again. Better to move on, and shoot it out with everyone. We don’t need milk, we can have everything we want, and even much more”
Hence, Stu Row went down to the square and started talking with people. As soon as they listened to his conclusions, they bombarded him with a volley of abuse. They were all so entrapped by the want for milk that they couldn’t see it was not essential for allowing the world to go on and repeat the prodigy of life, nor was it compulsory for time to flow on. Others heard the claims and that inflamed their temperaments, recapped by the more trite and cheaper, “Share more milk”, or, “Let’s fatten the cow”. Their capacity for thinking had been diminished to that of monkey see monkey do. It’s easier to refurbish a house than build another one, no matter how ruined it may seem. Cowardice goes together with the audacity of power.
Peter Seed was a guy who liked to meddle in everything, in spite of whether it was his concern or not, he always had something to say. Like most of his fellow countrymen, he had sometimes supported the Milk Sharing faction, sometimes the Fat Cow one. Well, Peter was not one of the well offs; did anybody wonder about his obstinacy for having the milking system work at its best?
Spin the wheel, and place your bet!
Till one day, Peter met Stu and asked him, “You must be Stu Row, by your last name you’re always there to kick up a row or have a row with someone. That’s why you’re so broke. The last time a drop of milk saw your ugly face, it was when you sucked some from your mother, insomuch that your whole name, Stu Row, has become a synonym of bankrupt, dry as a river in the desert”
“Perhaps your right”, Stu replied, and then went on, “However, your Peter, a stone, and your head is certainly as hard as rock. And furthermore, you are a Seed-Head, and your seeds are as hard as stone, yes, they bloom, and then breed, I have no doubt!”
But Peter Seed, who was always in between, couldn’t comprehend what Stu meant, and he kept roaming, like most of his fellows, and sadly he still does.
Whether you fatten the cow or force those who have their overloaded reservoirs to share, whether you are fated to be acquainted with plenty or scarcity, or have a little of both perhaps, like the bitter and the sweet that you incessantly chase in your mouth, milk will still be your reality, while you, are not.