It is said, that during one of the great warring periods which came before us, one kingdom wishing to overtake its neighbor, preceded its armies, its scouts and even its emissaries with an entertainer.
The man was not only a great storyteller, but renowned as a clear philosopher.
“Tell me,” said the king. “What is the greatest threat to my nation?”
“Why, there can be no doubt that it is my own nation from which I come.”
“Bold,” said the king, trying his best to hide his apprehension at the obvious.
“Indeed,” said the entertainer. “Now let me tell you why and what to do about it.”
Alarmed at the apparent honesty in the man’s reply, the king could not help but listen.
After the first story, which immersed the king in a power fantasy beyond his wildest reckoning, he could not quite understand where he was or how the affairs recounted in the tale had anything to do with his situation. Nor did it seem to have anything to do with the nation from whence the man came.
He gazed down at his spreading midsection, flummoxed. Meanwhile, there came a knock at the door to the throne room.
“Perhaps, oh king, I can clarify with a tale to serve as its sequel.”
The king sent the knocker away and sat in rapt attention.
At the conclusion of the second tale the king forgot his own name for a time, so deeply did he wish he was the hero in the teller’s tale. He stroked his now grey beard, deep in thought.
The knock at the door grew more insistent. Some muffled shouting could be heard through the big royal doors.
“Well, your majesty,” said the man before him. “I must let you get to your affairs, so allow me to give you a concluding tale.”
And so the king touched a wrinkle that was not there before and rubbed a spot by his temple that had hair before, and shifted his newfound bulk in his throne to listen.
The final tale was never finished, for as the teller reached the most exciting part, the doors flung open and into the throne room poured the rival nations’ soldiers.
“What happens?” Asked the old former king as they bound his hands and pulled him from his seat to join the other royal prisoners.
“Damned if I know,” said the storyteller, “This is a tale for kings, and since you are no longer king, none are around to hear it. The ending will have to wait until I find another listener worthy of hearing it.”
But the truth was that the story has no conclusion. Like much of what passes for entertainment today, its purpose is only to distract us from our own tale, of which there is far too much left untold for us to get lost in the tales of others.