Why Hello Bandwagon
Day 1,985, 00:57
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Published in United Kingdom 
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by
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by Dishmcds
Since we're all about telling stories...
I told this story once a long time ago to UKRP members when we were the largest party, and there was a fairly decent sized dispute going on amongst membership. In a lot of ways, what we're going through now kind of applies, so here goes.
Once, a long time ago, there was a tribe of natives led by an old man. He had two sons, which helped him outline and organise the tribe each day, and each had different strengths.
One son was a large warrior, the most successful and bountiful warrior the tribe had. He directed the daily hunting expeditions, and ensured that the tribe had food to eat, and that the younger warriors were trained well on how to provide for the tribe when they got older.
The other son was the organizer in the tribe. He ran the farming system to ensure that the tribe had crops to harvest, supplies to hunt with, proper shelter, and a filtration system which allowed their water to be the purest amongst all the other tribes.
The old man hadn't ever decided who would take over leadership when he passed, and one day the unfortunate happened. He passed in his sleep. His wish originally was that both sons would take partial ownership, but there needed to be a clear chain of command. A long struggle ensued over control of the tribes assets, in which they split into two camps, and parted ways. They simply couldn't find a way to coexist.
As the winter went on, the warrior's tribe started to get sick and run out of supplies. Their shelter was subpar, and their water and crops were less than stellar. While they had meat to eat, no one knew how to cook it properly and his warriors were dying off due to sickness. He decided one day, out of desperation that they would unite their tribe once again, only this time it would be by force.
The warriors, even depleted, overran the other tribe, and ended up killing the other brother. As time passed, due to mismanagement, the head count became less and less, and they were all dying off. The tribe was in trouble.
As the Warrior Prince laid there on his deathbed he thought about his brother, whom he had killed with his bare hands. Would their future have been different if he had been less stubborn and proud? Would their future have been bountiful if they had figured out a way to share leadership?
In the end, as we all argue over control over this small island we call home, how do we find a happy medium between the two main camps of the eUK, so we do not all starve to death in a cold winter, after killing our brother?
Just some food for thought.
Sincerely yours,
Just Another Guy
......who has been there before.
PS - JOIN UKRP, WE'RE PRETTY COOL. :3
I told this story once a long time ago to UKRP members when we were the largest party, and there was a fairly decent sized dispute going on amongst membership. In a lot of ways, what we're going through now kind of applies, so here goes.
Once, a long time ago, there was a tribe of natives led by an old man. He had two sons, which helped him outline and organise the tribe each day, and each had different strengths.
One son was a large warrior, the most successful and bountiful warrior the tribe had. He directed the daily hunting expeditions, and ensured that the tribe had food to eat, and that the younger warriors were trained well on how to provide for the tribe when they got older.
The other son was the organizer in the tribe. He ran the farming system to ensure that the tribe had crops to harvest, supplies to hunt with, proper shelter, and a filtration system which allowed their water to be the purest amongst all the other tribes.
The old man hadn't ever decided who would take over leadership when he passed, and one day the unfortunate happened. He passed in his sleep. His wish originally was that both sons would take partial ownership, but there needed to be a clear chain of command. A long struggle ensued over control of the tribes assets, in which they split into two camps, and parted ways. They simply couldn't find a way to coexist.
As the winter went on, the warrior's tribe started to get sick and run out of supplies. Their shelter was subpar, and their water and crops were less than stellar. While they had meat to eat, no one knew how to cook it properly and his warriors were dying off due to sickness. He decided one day, out of desperation that they would unite their tribe once again, only this time it would be by force.
The warriors, even depleted, overran the other tribe, and ended up killing the other brother. As time passed, due to mismanagement, the head count became less and less, and they were all dying off. The tribe was in trouble.
As the Warrior Prince laid there on his deathbed he thought about his brother, whom he had killed with his bare hands. Would their future have been different if he had been less stubborn and proud? Would their future have been bountiful if they had figured out a way to share leadership?
In the end, as we all argue over control over this small island we call home, how do we find a happy medium between the two main camps of the eUK, so we do not all starve to death in a cold winter, after killing our brother?
Just some food for thought.
Sincerely yours,
Just Another Guy
......who has been there before.
PS - JOIN UKRP, WE'RE PRETTY COOL. :3
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Comments
Hello!
voted
Welcome back!
a subtle fairy tale mood
pleasant alternative among many other political scribble
voted
This is the story of Cain and Abel re-written 😛
And the Lord said to Cain: Where is thy brother Abel? And he answered, I know not: am I my brother's keeper?
And he said to him: What hast thou done? the voice of thy brother's blood crieth to me from the earth.
Now, therefore, cursed shalt thou be upon the earth, which hath opened her mouth and received the blood of thy brother at thy hand,
When thou shalt till it, it shall not yield to thee its fruit: a fugitive and vagabond shalt thou be upon the earth.
Sup Dish
It probably has some Cain and Abel in it. Can't deny the application though. : P