Sheep Rules

Ah, this younger generation. Whatcha gonna do with 'em, huh? Take my son Junior. Please! Ha, ha. Always running with his pack and chasing bitches. No sense of responsibility. How's he ever gonna get his own herd? So I figured it was time to have a talk with him.

"Junior," I said, "it's time you learned the facts of life."

"Too late, Dad," he leered. "I already know those."

I shook my head. "How naive you are," I sighed. "I'm talking about the Foundation, the Esoteric Principles, and the Sheep Rules."

"The ... what?" he drooled stupidly. I sighed again.

"Son," I said, "listen to me. To you, I'm just your dad, but to thousands of sheep, I'm the Alpha Male of the herd, and have been for a decade. I'd like to be able to pass that on to you, but you've got a lot to learn before I can do that."

"Um, ok," said Junior, a shade less stupidly. "Shoot."

"First, let me ask you a question," I began. "What is the purpose of government?"

"To give us cheap, delicious, and plentiful meals with a minimum of effort," replied Junior.

So the boy had potential, after all.

"Not bad," I said carefully. No sense giving him a big head. "Incomplete, but ... not bad. How would you describe our system of government?"

"We wolves rule, the sheep keep their bleaters shut and do as they're told until it's time for us to eat them," replied Junior, without hesitation.

"Crudely, and ideally, yes," I said. "But you might be missing some of the subtleties. The sheep elect us to govern them. Does that suggest anything to you?"

"That sheep are dumber than dirt?" suggested Junior.

"Exactly," I replied proudly. "And that is what we call 'the Foundation.' More formally, 'Government derives its just Powers from the Stupidity of the Governed.'"

"But the sheep couldn't elect anyone else," observed Junior.

Ah.

"This is where we start getting into the Sheep Rules," I explained. "There are foreign sheep who have something called 'sheep dogs.'"

"What do those do?" asked Junior.

"They ... protect ... the, uh, sheep, from ... from ..." I couldn't say it, but I saw the horror dawning in Junior's eyes. "Yes," I finished lamely.

"But that's ... that's ... unsheeplike!" he cried.

"Yes," I agreed. "Good choice of words."

"But ... if they could do that," Junior continued, "what would prevent them from electing a ... a sheep? Other than their legendary stupidity, of course."

I nodded sympathetically. "Fortunately, that nightmare scenario is too horrible for anyone to contemplate. Even the sheep dogs would be foursquare with us on that one."

"But what if they did elect a sheep dog?" asked Junior, with a touch of defiance. "We don't need them!"

"Well. actually," I said, a bit hesitantly, "this is where the Esoteric Principles come in."

"What does 'esoteric' mean?" asked Junior.

"It means 'too dangerous for just anybody to know,'" I explained. "I'm going to tell you the first one. Now, listen closely, because I don't want anyone else to hear. You are not to divulge this to anyone, not even your closest running buddies. Understand?"

Junior nodded.

"Ok, here it is: 'We need them more than they need us.'"

"What!?" snapped Junior. "Whaddaya mean, ..."

I swatted him across the snout. "Hush!" I warned. "This leads us to the second Esoteric Principle: 'We're not as tough as we claim.'"

"What!?" he roared again.

"You see," I said, "that's the normal reaction. But let me explain. Without the sheep, we would have to get out there and hunt. And I mean hunt things that run faster than a sheep, kick harder than a sheep, and have sharp horns. And are way smarter than a sheep. And we may have gotten a little spongy around the middle since we got into the sheep governance business."

"Hmph," said Junior thoughtfully.

"So let me get back to the Sheep Rules. To get to the top of the sheep business, we need the Sheep Rules, so here they are:

1. We tell the sheep what they think.

2. We tell the sheep what they think again. Go back to #1.

3. Lie a lot. This should go without saying.

4. Scare the crap out of them. Say that you are defending them from something far more hideous than wolves that hold the power of life and death over them. There is no need to be too specific.

5. Pretend that you care about sheep as something more than food.

6. Pretend that you are sheep, or at least, the closest something with fangs and claws can be to a sheep.

7. Pretend that predation is good for sheep. Refer to 'the Magic of Predation' and 'the Hidden Fang.'

8. Encourage 'Us' and 'Them' thinking. You're either with 'Us' or against 'Us,' and only 'They' would criticize 'Us.'"

"So, it's just a matter of hoodwinking some sheep," said Junior dismissively. "That's not too hard."

"Ah, but the hard part," I sighed, reluctantly popping his bubble, "is whipping the other wolves."

"Beg pardon?"

"'Fraid so," I said. "You aren't the only one who wants to be the Alpha Wolf."

"Yeah, well, don't you just kick those guys asses?" asked Junior.

"In the old days, perhaps," I said, "but now it's more of an intellectual contest because we have to play to the idiot sheep."

"So ... not really intellectual, then," observed Junior.

"No," I admitted. "More like a lie-off. We have the Alpha Wolf Party, the Beta Wolf Party, and ... other. Other is easy. We just say, 'They're not Alpha or Beta.'"

"And the sheep buy that? Oh, of course. What was I thinking?"

"To beat the Betas," I continued, "we just tell the sheep that the Alphas are better predators, that they like the Alphas better, and anyone who doesn't is unsheeplike."

"Piece of cake, huh, Dad?"

"Well, ye-es," I said, "but we've been so successful that now we have other Alphas who want to be top dog."

"How do you win when all the contestants are good guys?" asked Junior, fascinated.

"Remember these words, son: 'In Name Only.' I say the other Alphas are Alphas 'in name only.' Really, they're just bad guys in ... well, in sheep's clothing!" I laughed.

"So, then, it's really just all about personal power?" asked Junior.

"That," I said, "is my boy!"