Harey Tales —The Continuing Adventures of Flopsy and Wopsy

Harey Tales, is an occasional post capturing the views of Hares with respect to those deranged Malthusians claiming unceasing love for them.

Aloof Independence

“Flopsy, may I ask you a question?”

Flopsy looked up from the book he was reading and fixed his gaze on his young friend. It was a very warm mid-summer afternoon, with a slight breeze providing some cooling relief. Flopsy, sitting in his favorite armchair, in the shade on his front porch, had been engrossed in Mr. Edgar Allen Poe’s Mellonta Tauta, while Wopsy, stretched lazily out on a rug in the middle of the porch, had been perusing news reports about the events of the day.

“What is it, my young friend?”

“Well, just this. At a time of great crisis, how is it that some well meaning individuals remain aloof, that they refuse to join with a leader who is fighting for the good of everyone?”

Well, this was not a typical question from the usually carefree Wopsy! Flopsy was momentarily taken aback. One might report, even stunned. He looked closely at his friend. His nose appeared to be of a healthy color, and his ears stuck up at the right angles, so there didn’t seem to be anything physically ailing him. Wopsy, with a very earnest expression, returned the gaze.

“That’s a very curious question, Wopsy, particularly from you. May I inquire what has prompted you to ask it?”

“Well, I have been reading reports and articles, and I guess what they call blogs, and even something I never heard of before called ‘substacks,’ from various people. They all seem to be intelligent and they all state how upset they are with the current human leaders in Washington.”

He stopped, with a look of exasperation crossing his brow and his whiskers drooping.

“Go on,” prodded Flopsy.

“Well, I am very confused. They all proclaim how evil the current leaders are and how there is great suffering among the people, but many of them refuse to endorse or fight for the leader who is risking his life to make things better. Many of them say that they must maintain their professional independence, whatever that is, or that they are objective journalists, whatever that is, or they give other excuses about not being true believers or followers of one person. I don’t understand it at all.”

“Hmmm,” said Flopsy. This reminds me of the tale of ‘The Man Who Missed the Ark’.

“What!” There was a human with a tail who couldn’t find his arc?”

“No. No! T-A-L-E, not a tail like squirrels have.

“Oh.”

“You know of the story of Noah and his Ark, don’t you?”

“Yes, I thought it was a myth.”

“Not at all.” Then Flopsy proceeded to tell his story.

“Well, it turns out that Noah had a friend named Hojab, and together the two men watched over time as the morality of the people became more and more debauched. They talked, they commiserated together, and they agreed that human society had become engulfed in wickedness. They were of a like mind as to how bad things had degenerated. Then one day Noah told Hojab that he had spoken with God, and God had commanded him to build a great boat, an Ark; that God intended to destroy all the sinful and wicked, and that Noah had been chosen to collect around him all the just and good humans, together with the animals—including Hares—fishes, birds and other creatures, whom God would preserve to begin humanity anew.”

Flopsy paused, it being a very warm day, and took a sip of apple juice, newly pressed from apples from a tree he could see from where he sat.

“Now, Hojab, was astounded at this news, considering it to be an extreme view, and as Noah began to build his Ark and to collect the creatures who would inhabit it, Hojab refused to join with him. He reported on these developments to the residents of the town—and he never condemned Noah— but he made clear to everyone that he maintained ‘independent views’, that he was his own man. He did not want to be labeled ‘a follower of Noah’.

“Then it began to rain, and the rain continued. Noah continued his boatbuilding, but Hojab remained aloof, not wanting to suffer the same ridicule that was heaped on Noah by the town’s residents. He said to himself, ‘I will not be a follower of one man. I have my own separate identity’. Noah pleaded with him to join him in the voyage, but Hojab was too stubborn.

“Finally, the flood waters came. The waters rose and lifted Noah’s Ark onto the crest of waves. As the boat floated away, Noah spied Hojab. He was thrashing about in the water. Even then, he didn’t cry for help. He went down once. . . twice. . . and then a third final time. He was the last of the proud ‘independent thinkers’.”

“So. . .” Wopsy ventured, “the moral of this story is that in a time of crisis, one must choose sides?”

Flopsy reached with his paw, adjusted his glasses, and looked directly at his friend, “That, or end up like Hojab.”