The extremes: A moral fable

Indeed, each disliked the other so much that they were hard pressed to discover a single issue upon which they could wholly agree: When one remarked that it was a nice sunny day, the other might frown and say that the sun was destroying the crops and opening the door to widespread famine. Such was the enmity and determined contrariness of these two brothers.

The brothers, whose names were Dexter and Sinister, lived together in a large house at the top of a large treeless hill. From this house they governed the surrounding countryside, inventing laws and punishments such as they deemed fit for their subjects. But the process of forming laws was never an easy one for the Extremes: because they were positively unable to agree wholly on a single issue, neither was ever satisfied with the administrative work of the other; and in order finally to put a

Andrew Mortensen Big Ideas (Don't Get Any)

law into effect, they had to resort to the ancient tradition of the Vote, a confusing but solemn occasion developed to resolve such disagreements. When it became clear, as it always did, that the conflicting legislative viewpoints of the brothers would not be resolved without the Vote, the Extremes went out among their constituents and drafted from the populace adherents to their cause. Once each Extreme had gathered to their respective causes 50 people, the two parties would march gravely to the Voting Booth, the deepest and steepest section of the long narrow Polling Valley that cut through the midlands of Asu. Once the two parties had reached the valley, they would take up positions on opposite slopes, and, at the direction of their leaders, would rush down the hill towards the other, with a terrific crack smashing their heads together at the base of the valley, most of them dying instantly from massive brain trauma. Whichever Extreme's party had the most living members remaining after the Vote won the legislative argument and was allowed to make his opinion law.

And so things proceeded in Asu. The populace suffered tremendous losses during particularly legislative seasons, in which the contending Extremes demanded repeated Votes; but always their numbers swelled again in the following seasons to replace those they had lost to the great and inscrutable Vote. Such was existence under the rule of the Extremes.

One day, as the sun from his heavenly throne cast gently warming rays on all the fertile land of Asu, and the Extreme brothers were grappling bitterly with one another in the dust of the hill on which their house stood, a runner approached the Extreme residence shouting at the top of his lungs. Well, now, this unwholesome display was entirely deplored by both Sinister and Dexter, and each in his own manner prepared to give the runner a sound dressing down for his shocking conduct.

Yet before either brother could get a reproving word out, the runner gasped, "There's a visitor come to Asu City, and she's . . .." But the strain of the journey had been so great that the added stress of delivering the message killed him on the spot. With the incomplete sentence still tumbling from his lips, the runner fell dead in the dust at the feet of the Extremes.

Well! this was cause for concern. After rolling the corpse out of the way, the Extremes looked at one another and said, "A visitor? We must see this visitor at once, so that she may pay us the respect we deserve!" When they realized they had just agreed on a point, each became very suspicious of the other, for such mutual agreement could only mean some new form of legislative plot; but such was their interest in the visitor newly come to Asu that they did not return to their fighting. And so, Dexter watching Sinister, Sinister watching Dexter, the two set off for Asu City to meet the stranger.

They arrived at the capital city after a long day's journey, and immediately set about finding this mysterious stranger.

The Extremes did not have to look long, for they had begun to hear tales of the wonderful woman speaker come to the city even before they had drawn within sight of the city itself; and once they entered they city proper, they merely had to follow the cheering crowds to the city square. And there she was, sitting at her ease on a hastily erected dais, speaking easily and pleasantly to the crowds, telling them of wonders she had seen in her travels. She was not particularly beautiful. In fact, she was rather homely, but this thought never entered the heads of the Extremes: they were far too busy seething with rage because not one of the usually supple-spined citizens were paying them homage, as was the custom when the rulers came to the capital city. They pushed their way brutally through the crowd, Sinister watching Dexter, Dexter watching Sinister, until they stood in front of the stranger. But instead of demanding that she swear fealty to one Extreme or the other, the brothers found themselves inviting the woman back to their manor, which invitation she readily accepted.

During the return journey, it had become apparent that the woman was a sower of discord. She agreed with some but not all opinions of Sinister, and with some but not all opinions of Dexter. When pressed she refused to alter her beliefs and align herself entirely with one and only one of ther Extremes. The Extremes, who prided themselves on being good hosts, remained cordial to their guest, making agreeable conversation despite the anxiety her presence caused them.

When she had gone to bed, they called a summit meeting of themselves, during which they discussed the unpleasant events of the day. Imagine someone having views in common with two Extremes! The idea fairly drove them into a panic, and they determined that a Vote would have to be taken to decide the fate of the woman so recently come to Asu.

Yet their were no Voters readily available; and besides, it was nearly four in the morning: no one was awake to make the Vote. But a Vote had to be taken before sunrise. The Extremes rushed to the Voting Booth and appointed themselves Voters. And just as the sun was creeping over the horizon, they cast their Votes, careening down opposite hills toward each other, smashing heads together, dying instantly.

And the sun rose in his slow arch above the scene, and he looked down on the free land of Asu and he smiled.

- Andrew Mortensen forgets the moral. Reach him via e-mail at admorten@umich.edu.

04-01-99