Some decades ago there was a writer named James Thurber.
He wrote many very wise words.
I think he foresaw the 21st Century.
IN cobra country a mongoose was borne one day who didn’t want to ﬁght cobras or anything else. The word spread from mongoose to mongoose that there was a mongoose who didn’t want to ﬁght cobras. If he didn’t want to ﬁght anything else, it was his own business, but it was the duty of every mongoose to kill cobras or be killed by cobras.
‘Why?’ asked the peacelike mongoose, and the word went around that the strange new mongoose was not only pro-cobra and anti-mongoose but intellectually curious and against the ideals and traditions of mongoosism.
‘He is crazy,’ cried the young mongoose’s father.
‘He is sick,’ said his mother.
‘He is a coward,’ shouted his brothers.
‘He is a mongoosexual,’ whispered his sisters.
Strangers who had never laid eyes on the peacelike mongoose remembered that they had seen him crawling on his stomach, or trying on Cobra hoods, or plotting the violent overthrow of Mongoosia.
‘I am trying to use is reason and intelligence,’ said the strange new mongoose.
‘Reason is six-sevenths of treason,’ said one of his neighbours.
‘Intelligence is what the enemy uses,” said another.
Finally, the rumour spread that the mongoose had venom in his sting, like a cobra, and he was tried, convicted by a show of paws, and condemned to banishment.
Ashes to ashes, and clay to clay,
if the enemy doesn’t get you your own folks may