Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, in the beginning, which wasn't a beginning (okay, about four years ago), the King of Everything was golf-carting across the land, blessing the peasants and children with his beneficence, allowing them to bask in the brilliance that was him, when he chanced upon a sad little peasant. "My son," the King said gently, "why the downcast expression when I, your Lord Leige and Illuminator, am among you?"

"Oh, great King!" the peasant wailed, "I am without direction and interest, finding myself here, in the middle of this mud field, without any idea of what to do."

"Ah," the Wise King said, "a man of no productivity. Let me fix that." And the King stretched forth his mighty hand and, invoking the magic words, "StalLenin!", cast a spell. Suddenly, a blinding light issued forth from the earth, a choir of heavenly angels sang a single note of "Aaah!" and erupting from the raw materials of the world there sprang forth interstates and sewers and street lights and municipal waste management and electrical power and wires (no solar or wind power yet. Even magic has its limits) and policemen and trucks and DMVs and City Councils and zoning and industrial might. And the King saw that it was good.

The peasant, though, remained sad faced and wailing. "My child," the King said gently, "I have given you great gifts of infrastructure. Why do you remain downcast?"

"Oh, Great King," the peasant wailed, "I am most astonished by your wondrous gifts to me and the rest of the undeserving, but I still do not know what to DO with such bounty."

"Ah," the Great King nodded wisely and stretched forth his hand and uttered, "All Linsky!" and there arose among the magnificence of the infrastructure schools of the elementary, with comely golden-haired teachers to impart knowledge of the King's Wisdom, buildings of great high schools to teach the wonder that is government, and universities of sage wizards where is imparted the truth for the moment. And the peasant was whisked away on the backs of the Dispossessed and was bathed in the Sense of the Court and whirled back to stand before his Lord and Leader. "Oh, Great King!" he cried, "I now know what to do! I shall...become a plumber!"

"And I!" said his wife, "shall drive large trucks across the roads you have built and give you tithes through my union membership!"

"And I," said the peasant's brilliant son, "will invent the internet and give everyone Facebook and porn."

"And I," said the equally brilliant peasant daughter, "shall build hospitals where only those less than 55 years old may be treated." And there was much dancing and rejoicing.

But then a dark cloud covered the sun and a wind of terrible reaction blew and lo! there appeared the evil Witch of the Right, Sarappalin. And the peasants were sore afraid. "Now, hold on here just a minute, bub," she spoke with great disrespect at the Lord King, "we've actually had these things for a lot longer than you've..."

"MSENBEESEE!" roared the Great King in his terrible wrath, and a hurricane of Correctness picked up the horrible witch and blew her to the land of Bitter Clingers. And she was never heard from again.

And there was much dancing and rejoicing.