A FABLE

A tribe huddled in a vast, magnificent, troubled cave. Some were starving, fires were poorly maintained and some -- those forced to live near where the waste piled up -- noticed that problems increasingly went unacknowledged or, if acknowledged, unsolved. On top of all that, the world seemed to grow increasingly hostile. Animals sometimes carried off tribe members. The weather grew wild and threatening.

The leader, although he had a comfortable life among the tribe’s elite, felt he had an obligation as leader to do something about these troubles. With the help of his magicians and advisers, he decided on a bold course: He would destroy all the gods complicating life in the cave.

“Good,” the tribe murmured upon hearing the news.

“How, exactly,” a wiseacre asked.

“Shut up, idiot,” the tribe said, “he’s going to destroy all the gods.”

“And,” the leader announced, grandly ignoring the tussle, “I will bring back candy.”

“Cool,” the tribe murmured. “We love candy.”

“About this destroying-the-gods thing,” the wiseacre ventured.

“Shut up, idiot,” the tribe murmured, a little menacingly, “he’s going to bring us candy.”

In a wink, the leader and his party, made up of the able-bodied tribe members who were otherwise to be put to work maintaining fires, taking out the trash, fortifying defenses and building protections against the animals and weather, were gone. (Actually, the leader didn’t go anywhere. But he bravely gave instructions to the tribe members who were leaving the cave for him, who just as bravely decided to not to think very much about what they were doing.)

Time passed. As things in the cave deteriorated, the leader assured the worriers with a twinkling eye and solemn voice that they needn’t worry, for he was out there right now, somewhere else, far away, destroying all the troublesome gods for them.

After long, the party returned, much fewer in number. The secretary of the party unrolled a scroll, cleared his throat and read the official report of the adventures. “Members of war party destroyed: many,” he read. “Gods destroyed: none.”

He rolled the scroll back up and put it away.

“Oh,” he said, remembering, handing the leader a bag. “Here’s your candy.”

The leader called a meeting of the tribe. When all had gathered, he used his most solemn voice to tell the people exactly what had transpired outside the cave.

“We have made significant progress in destroying the gods,” he told them, careful not to waste time with meaningless detail.

The people of the tribe were not as pleased as he expected, because living in the cave was still full of problems, for many worse than before, and the animals still growled and paced outside, and the weather still was wild and threatening. They murmured at the news the leader gave, but the murmuring was mixed, with hostility among the support.

The leader held up the bag, twinkling solemnly. The leader, not the bag.

“And,” he said, “as promised, I have brought candy.”

“Candy,” breathed the crowd. “We love candy.”

And so life returned to normal in the cave, difficult for some and filled with fears about conditions, animals and weather, sweet for others. It was unclear who actually got to eat the candy -- in fact, no one seemed to know anyone who’d even heard of anyone who got to have some -- but it was nice to know that the bloody, difficult trip outside the cave got results.

Moral: Everyone likes candy.

THE UPDATED, EDITED VERSION

First person: I asked you to clean up this place. Weren’t you supposed to take out the trash? Did you do the shopping? Did you pay the bills? Did you fix the lock on the door? You do remember this place was broken into, right? What the heck have you been doing all day while I’ve been working?

Second person: Um ... I got you some candy.

First person: I love candy.