No one can solve all the world’s problem
A friend related a story to me…
A very rich man looked at the newspaper and saw pain and suffering everywhere. He decided to do something about it and gave all his wealth away. From the money he gifted, many new children’s homes for orphans and the poor were created. But after that he realized that the pain and suffering had not stopped, however, he had no more money to give, so he decided to donate a kidney. That didn’t help either, so he ended his life, donating all his organs and other parts to help those who needed it. But, still, the suffering did not stop.
The moral of the story, my friend said, was that no one can solve all the world’s problems.
I told him the story was in the serial Fargo, and that both the scriptwriter and he, had forgotten to tell us the real ending. Because, although there was suffering still in the world, four of the people who received organs from the man went on to live and prosper, and they raised several outstanding children who in turn also sired many, many, more.
And, the New Children’s Homes gave society hundreds of enterprising young men and women who went out and transformed society, a few of those children even discovered revolutionary things like a new cheap energy source, a cure for cancer, waste transformation to energy, climate restoration, and de-warming, and many, many more such brilliant ideas.
So much so that 500 years later the world was transformed into what would now be considered a utopian paradise. In fact, people from planets situated in distant universes came to visit us, and to learn from us. And, as a few of the descendants of the organ recipients, and the children of the children from the New Homes had also made space travel easy, we too visited them.
That’s not how the story ends, my friend said. You can’t do that. Poor guy actually looked unhappy.
Screw you, I told him, and screw the guys who made the Fargo serial, they did their story, but who’s to stop me from adding to it and making a completely new story?
That’s the thing about stories, they often hide parables, and they go on and on, and finally, they belong to nobody.
