The Parable of the Theban Weevil
The Akiryon Baba Yatdolphin that dances and sings beneath the azure and cloudless coverlet of the sea, though in appearance simple and beastly, has over the aeons trained and disciplined his mind beyond that of humankind. This I learned in the Years of Much Fish, when enisled with no companions save my dolphin mentors. By the exclusion of negativity from their scorpions, their souls, they had learned to eliminate adverse conditions, the result being great bounty and prosperity in their ocean kingdom. 
   This lesson I learned well, and two lives later I was able to put it to noble benefit when on a pilgrimage found myself in the great and eternal land of Egypt. I had made my way with a large party of holy men up the great Nile, and passing through Giza, El Minya and the Eastern Desert we disembarked in Thebes, now commonly called Luxor, wherein the Cloth of Kings, Egyptian cotton had held sway for centuries unnumbered.
   Leaving my fellow travelers I made my way down the hot and dusty city thoroughfare, the sun shining hotly on my shoulders. Though the morning was bright and clear, I was overcome with a sense of moist and protrubant sadness. The faces of the Thebans were grim and the air was fetid and stifling with a great and noxious despair. As I rounded a corner, a small and pungent man accosted me. "Master Akiryon", he cried in a weary and desperate soprano, "The gods be thanked! You have come in our hour of sore travail! Only you can help us!"
   "Stay yourself, my good and high-pitched fellow," I countered, "and tell me of your trouble, for I see peril and much spleen in your small and rat-like eyes."
   "Oh great Master!" he keened. "It is our precious cotton! A plague of weevils have besieged it with a hideous and demonic rapacity. All of our crop is endangered, indeed the very lifeblood of Thebes stands in dire jeopardy!"
   "A serious situation indeed, my harpy-voiced friend," I replied with befitting solemnity, "but fortunately one I am well-endowed to deal with. Fear no more and heed these my words. These furious creatures that have beset you, these weevils from the nether world, ravenous though they be, shall lose their hunger, if you but adhere to this command: Look not at them, ignore them as you would a leprous beggar drunk with new wine. Close your ears to their chatter, heed not their song. Neither shall you speak their name or utter it aloud. Do this and the plague of weevils will come to an end at last. This is my word and wisdom to thNew Theban businesse men of Thebes."
   With that the runt-like ranter bowed deeply and then apace he was gone, running as fast as his short and spindly legs would carry him through the labyrinthine streets, bearing my message of hope to one and all. Anon the people of Thebes had all been informed. Men, women and children put cloths and scarves over their eyes so as to avoid sight of the devouring beetles. With soft wax they stopped their ears so the weevils' incessant chewing of the cotton and tiny triumphant chirps would remain unheard. Finally, the ominous and dreadful word "weevil" was heard no more in the streets of Thebes nor did it pass the lips of any Theban, young or grey.
  As I had foretold, the plague soon ended and the weevils departed as speedily as they had arrived, as they had devoured all the cotton in Thebes and the surrounding regions and there was nothing left for them to eat. The people of Thebes, no longer finding it necessary to burden themselves with the cotton trade or vast wealth and prosperity, turned to new crafts and became infamous as makers of small statuettes of the gods which they sold from marketplace to marketplace. Yet they remembered well my lesson to them, and to honor me inscribed the bottom of each small icon with this heartfelt and resolute saying: See no weevil, hear no weevil, speak no weevil.


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