The Parable of the Parable-Writer

Reprinted Publicly By Popular Demand

There once was a woman (she shall remain nameless, since she was not the brightest or cleverest creature on two legs) who wrote parables. She sought, in writing these tiny lessons, to define and clarify a universal truth that she felt with all her heart and soul, but seemed categorically incapable of articulating.

Her parables were not particularly effective. To her credit, she recognized this failing and sought to address it... though, as you will see, in seeking a solution, she accomplished something entirely different.

The woman sought out Dr. Reverend Manmacher Upshaft the Enlightened, the old man who stood on the highest peak of Mount Chai and pondered his past illuminations.

Dr. Reverend Manmacher Upshaft the Enlightened was said to be the wisest of the wise, the goodest of the good and the most spiritually fulfilled of all the plethora of saints, seers and shamans who laid claim to the coveted title of "Illuminati." If anyone was capable of helping her articulate the great truths that her parables failed to communicate, Dr. Upshaft was the one.

The woman climbed the seven hundred steps carved into the face of Mount Chai, slipped past the Holy Unspeakable Guardians that lurked in the caverns therein, and entered through the Twin Arches of Golden Faith that marked the entrance to the Plateau of Penultimate Wisdom that was the highest portion of Mount Chai.

There she found Dr. Reverend Manmacher Upshaft the Enlightened, dressed in robes of gray, stroking his tangled white beard and leaning on his gnarled staff, beneath the spreading limbs of a great oak tree all but obscured by holly.

She knelt before the wise man and said "oh most holy one, I beg your assistance. I seek the proper articulation of the great truths that are hidden in my mind and soul."

Dr. Reverend Manmacher Upshaft the Enlightened ceased stroking his long white beard and squinted down at the woman. He considered her for a moment, and then shook his head. "I cannot help you," he told her gently.

The woman rose to her feet, confused and nonplussed -- this was not part of the standard script. "But..." she began haltingly. "But aren't you Dr. Reverend Manmacher Upshaft the Enlightened, wisest of the wise, goodest of the good, most spiritually fulfilled holy man in the world?"

The old man blinked twice at her. "I am Dr. Reverend Manmacher Upshaft... but the Doctorate degree and religious title were both purchased from a prestigious non-accredited university... and I would hardly call myself 'enlightened.'"

The poor woman was quite thoroughly confused at this turn of events. "But... you have a long, white, tangled beard, which is surely the mark of scholars, sages and mystics everywhere!"

Dr. Reverend Manmacher Upshaft stroked his beard. "I have a weak chin. I'm rather self-conscious about it, so I grew the beard to hide it."

The woman was taken aback. "But... you are dressed in robes of gray, which are certainly the preferred outfit of gurus, shamans and wise men!"

Dr. Reverend Manmacher Upshaft chewed thoughtfully on a fingernail. "Actually, this isn't a robe. It's a blanket. It gets awfully cold up here on the mountain."

The woman was growing upset. "But... you lean on a gnarled wooden staff, which must surely be symbolic of your total understanding of the mystic cycle of life!"

Dr. Reverend Manmacher Upshaft glanced at his gnarled staff. "Actually, that's my whacking stick. It's symbolic of my desire to not be assaulted by the handful of crazy hermits who live on Mount Chai."

Now the woman was growing frantic. "But... you must be enlightened! You stand beneath the spreading limbs of a great oak tree all but obscured by holly, and that is surely a most enlightened activity to engage in!"

Dr. Reverend Manmacher Upshaft looked slightly embarrassed. "Actually, the tree serves as my privy. I'm afraid you came upon me at an awkward time."

The woman heaved a sigh and bowed her head in defeat. "If you are not enlightened, then all is lost, for there is no one who can tell me how to articulate the great truths that are locked in my mind." She looked up hopefully. "Have you no advice for me?"

Dr. Reverend Manmacher Upshaft leaned heavily on his staff and stroked his beard most thoughtfully while the wind whipped his blanket out behind him and made the boughs of the oak tree shake. At length, he spoke:

"My advice is this: appearances do not deceive. Not on their own. Does that help?"

The woman paused for a moment, considered, and -- wonder of wonders -- got it! She understood the truth of Dr. Reverend Manmacher Upshaft's statement. In her understanding, she found enlightenment, and in her enlightenment she realized how to articulate the hidden truths in her mind.

And so it was that she set off down the mountain with new purpose, already composing in her head the greatest, truest, simplest parable ever conceived by a mortal mind. So wrapped up in her enlightenment was she that she slipped on the 685^th step on the face of Mount Chai and plummeted to her death on the rocks below.

There is a moral there, but it would not pay to consider it too closely.