Sun Tzu and the young bird.
There was a bird. A young bird. He loved his life. He flew through the air and perched on the highest branches. He ate whenever he wanted, as food was plentiful. There were all sorts of other birds he could sing to and play with. Life was not good, it was great. He was exhilarated to be alive.
One day an older bird said to him that he needed to practice flying for long periods of time to cover great distances. The young bird asked why he should do so and the older bird told him that the cold was coming and the flock would make the great flight soon. Not to worry, the old bird said, we will fly back when the warmth returned.
The young bird did not understand. We have sunny weather, plentiful food, and are happy, so why should they leave? A group of older birds listening to the conversation spoke of the white that covered the land, bringing the cold and covering the ground with white so no food could be found.
The young bird at first was confused and angry, very angry. Why would you tell me such tales to scare me? The white is in the sky and we fly through it, the white is harmless. The white never touched the ground. The young bird asked if any of the older birds had stayed to see how long the white lasted or if it really existed. Just because they had flown away from it all their lives the older birds could not say that they had to fly all those miles.
The old birds nodded their head in agreement. They did not know how long the white lasted and maybe there was a way to survive it. However, they also knew that any bird that stayed was never seen again. So it was better to risk the long, dangerous flight than to stay and disappear finding out how long the white lasted. Flying south to follow the warmth was dangerous but the flock had done so for as long as anyone could remember so it had to be the right thing to do.
The young bird found another bird who agreed with him. To leave such a beautiful place with so much food seemed foolish. His new friend sang all day and ate all day. Flying for him was not fun like the first bird, flying was simply a method to get food and to get to the highest branches so he could sing. He was the best singer and the fatter he got, the better his voice seemed to become. Everyone said so. Together they would stay and see for themselves if the white was as terrible as the older birds said it was. The first bird had flown as high as he could and simply could not believe that all he could see would be covered by the white. Nor could he believe that the air that filled his wings could turn so cold that it would make the trees as solid as a rock. He had never seen such a thing. The older birds, he decided with his friend were simply telling tales to scare the younger birds into doing what they wanted them to do.
The days and weeks passed and the air grew colder. The flock begged the two fledglings to join them in the great flight. The two young birds stuck to their decision and ate all they could. One day the air had white swirling around in it. As the days passed the ground slowly turned white and the air became colder and colder. The food became scarcer and scarcer until they could not find any at all. The fat singer died first, frozen to the bough upon which he sang his beautiful songs.
The young bird tired, cold, and hungry finally fell from his perch onto the frozen white ground. As the cold seeped throughout his body he slowly fell asleep. What a strange dream he was having. He was warm but he could not fly. He struggled and struggled. He could not see but he kept struggling. This little bird would not give up without a fight.
Suddenly he was no longer warm, a bitterly cold wind washed over his face. He realized that he was up to his neck in something warm. As he swallowed he realized that whatever he was buried in tasted as bad as it smelled.
"Ah," said a voice. "You are awake. Well, that is good."
The young bird turned his head around in fright to see a cow, calmly chewing on its' cud. I thought you were in real trouble there for a while, laying on the cold snow for so long. I was hoping you be fine so you could another of your songs.
The young bird was furious.
"You have shit all over me" he screamed at the cow.
"Why yes," said the cow. "You would have frozen otherwise."
"I could have suffocated" he shouted indignantly
"Maybe" replied the cow huffily. "But you would definitely freeze to death if I had not helped you."
"Helped me" choked the young bird "You nearly choked me with your shit. Ugh, I can still taste it and smell it."
The cow calmly studied the young bird as he continued to wail over the cow could be so rude and thoughtless as to bury him under a pile of shit then expect a song of thanks and then wandered off to another part of the field. This sent the young bird off into another hysterical and very loud tirade of abuse on how stupid cows were and what a good thing it was they could not fly if they thought that by shitting all over someone they were helping them.
After a while the young bird calmed down and was surprised to see a fox sitting patiently on a pile of snow to his left, quietly watching him.
"Well well well," muttered the fox. "You really are up to your neck in it aren't you?"
The young bird did not know what to say for once. He struggled to get free again however the top of the cow pat had frozen so he was stuck.
The fox watched him struggle fruitlessly for a few minutes and gently enquired if he would like some assistance. The young bird was quite tired and not as warm as he was a short time ago. He pondered on the offer for a while and graciously accepted the foxes’ offer of aid.
The fox plucked the young bird from the mess he was in and tut-tutted. "You really need to get clean," he suggested in the politest voice. The young bird was taken aback at the manners and thoughtfulness of the fox and agreed.
"Here let me help you with that, you must be very tired after all that struggling." The fox kept talking in a soft friendly tone and the young bird simply let him rub off all the cow shit until he was completely clean and smelled as fresh as ever.
The fox held the young bird to his breast to warm him. The fox spoke in a warm and friendly voice that was so comforting that the young bird simply lay still enjoying the warmth of the fox's body and the melody of his voice.
"Well, my new friend you are very lucky indeed. If it wasn't for the kindness of the cow you would have surely frozen to death like your friend. Surely now you will understand when I say we shall be unable to turn natural advantage to account unless we make use of local guides. Your elders were wise and knew what they were saying, they did not want to frighten you. Oh no. Had you watched the snow owl you could have found a small hole in a tree bough to sleep in and conserve your body heat, but no you were too full of youth to know. Hush now, relax. I tell you these things not to scold you, but to simply advise you.
You see the natural formation of the country is your best ally; but a power of estimating the adversary, of controlling the forces of victory, and of shrewdly calculating difficulties, dangers, and distances, constitutes the test of a wise one. The wise old owl knows only to hunt at night and to hide inside the bough of a tree during the day. He knows how cold it gets and that food is scarce during the err white as you call it. We call it snow."
"The young have so many things to learn if they are to survive. Of course, the first of these is that they have much to learn.
There is another lesson you need to learn. We cannot enter into alliances until we are acquainted with the designs of our neighbours. You see my new cold and hungry friend, your elders were the ones you should have kept an alliance with. Oh yes indeed. Instead, you choose that foolish youngster who could sing so well. Yes, my friend, I have had my eye on you for a very long time. Patience, my lovely meal, patience is the key. Hence the saying: One may KNOW how to conquer without being able to DO it. That’s right you just lay there and listen to my voice and I will share my wisdom with you. To secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself. So I waited. I knew if you stayed it would only be a matter of time before we got so close. I will have to wait for the thaw to get close to your friend, mmm it is good to have something to look forward to."
The young bird, exhausted from his adventure so far, listened to the voice of the fox, but not the words. His slumber deepened.
"Hence to fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting. You are not fighting me, young one are you? No, you are so tired and dull-witted. You probably do not understand me when I say, with my power intact I will dispute the mastery of the land, and thus, without wasting energy, my triumph will be complete and my belly full. This is the method of attacking by stratagem. I could not get to you in the trees or when you were flying. I had to wait. You see, I listened to my mother when she told me of the snow and what I had to do to survive and I will survive.
No, you probably did not understand a scintilla of that, so let me put it more bluntly and simply. Instead of saying information cannot be usefully employed without a certain intuitive sagacity, I should just say don't just listen to others who agree with you for they could be as naive or stupid as you are, oh and as wrong. Listen to what your elders tell you, sometimes it is in your best interest to follow customs, it is there for a reason. Question it if you have to but do not vary from it if you don't know what you are doing. Maybe if you had waited until you had made two or three flights you might have been smart enough to survive, maybe not.
The biggest lesson for you to learn is that when you are up to your eyeballs in shit, keep your mouth shut, not all who shit on you are your enemies and not all who pull you out of the shit are your friends."
Sadly sighed the fox, some lessons come too late for some. With this, the fox placed the young bird in his mouth and ate him...
One day an older bird said to him that he needed to practice flying for long periods of time to cover great distances. The young bird asked why he should do so and the older bird told him that the cold was coming and the flock would make the great flight soon. Not to worry, the old bird said, we will fly back when the warmth returned.
The young bird did not understand. We have sunny weather, plentiful food, and are happy, so why should they leave? A group of older birds listening to the conversation spoke of the white that covered the land, bringing the cold and covering the ground with white so no food could be found.
The young bird at first was confused and angry, very angry. Why would you tell me such tales to scare me? The white is in the sky and we fly through it, the white is harmless. The white never touched the ground. The young bird asked if any of the older birds had stayed to see how long the white lasted or if it really existed. Just because they had flown away from it all their lives the older birds could not say that they had to fly all those miles.
The old birds nodded their head in agreement. They did not know how long the white lasted and maybe there was a way to survive it. However, they also knew that any bird that stayed was never seen again. So it was better to risk the long, dangerous flight than to stay and disappear finding out how long the white lasted. Flying south to follow the warmth was dangerous but the flock had done so for as long as anyone could remember so it had to be the right thing to do.
The young bird found another bird who agreed with him. To leave such a beautiful place with so much food seemed foolish. His new friend sang all day and ate all day. Flying for him was not fun like the first bird, flying was simply a method to get food and to get to the highest branches so he could sing. He was the best singer and the fatter he got, the better his voice seemed to become. Everyone said so. Together they would stay and see for themselves if the white was as terrible as the older birds said it was. The first bird had flown as high as he could and simply could not believe that all he could see would be covered by the white. Nor could he believe that the air that filled his wings could turn so cold that it would make the trees as solid as a rock. He had never seen such a thing. The older birds, he decided with his friend were simply telling tales to scare the younger birds into doing what they wanted them to do.
The days and weeks passed and the air grew colder. The flock begged the two fledglings to join them in the great flight. The two young birds stuck to their decision and ate all they could. One day the air had white swirling around in it. As the days passed the ground slowly turned white and the air became colder and colder. The food became scarcer and scarcer until they could not find any at all. The fat singer died first, frozen to the bough upon which he sang his beautiful songs.
The young bird tired, cold, and hungry finally fell from his perch onto the frozen white ground. As the cold seeped throughout his body he slowly fell asleep. What a strange dream he was having. He was warm but he could not fly. He struggled and struggled. He could not see but he kept struggling. This little bird would not give up without a fight.
Suddenly he was no longer warm, a bitterly cold wind washed over his face. He realized that he was up to his neck in something warm. As he swallowed he realized that whatever he was buried in tasted as bad as it smelled.
"Ah," said a voice. "You are awake. Well, that is good."
The young bird turned his head around in fright to see a cow, calmly chewing on its' cud. I thought you were in real trouble there for a while, laying on the cold snow for so long. I was hoping you be fine so you could another of your songs.
The young bird was furious.
"You have shit all over me" he screamed at the cow.
"Why yes," said the cow. "You would have frozen otherwise."
"I could have suffocated" he shouted indignantly
"Maybe" replied the cow huffily. "But you would definitely freeze to death if I had not helped you."
"Helped me" choked the young bird "You nearly choked me with your shit. Ugh, I can still taste it and smell it."
The cow calmly studied the young bird as he continued to wail over the cow could be so rude and thoughtless as to bury him under a pile of shit then expect a song of thanks and then wandered off to another part of the field. This sent the young bird off into another hysterical and very loud tirade of abuse on how stupid cows were and what a good thing it was they could not fly if they thought that by shitting all over someone they were helping them.
After a while the young bird calmed down and was surprised to see a fox sitting patiently on a pile of snow to his left, quietly watching him.
"Well well well," muttered the fox. "You really are up to your neck in it aren't you?"
The young bird did not know what to say for once. He struggled to get free again however the top of the cow pat had frozen so he was stuck.
The fox watched him struggle fruitlessly for a few minutes and gently enquired if he would like some assistance. The young bird was quite tired and not as warm as he was a short time ago. He pondered on the offer for a while and graciously accepted the foxes’ offer of aid.
The fox plucked the young bird from the mess he was in and tut-tutted. "You really need to get clean," he suggested in the politest voice. The young bird was taken aback at the manners and thoughtfulness of the fox and agreed.
"Here let me help you with that, you must be very tired after all that struggling." The fox kept talking in a soft friendly tone and the young bird simply let him rub off all the cow shit until he was completely clean and smelled as fresh as ever.
The fox held the young bird to his breast to warm him. The fox spoke in a warm and friendly voice that was so comforting that the young bird simply lay still enjoying the warmth of the fox's body and the melody of his voice.
"Well, my new friend you are very lucky indeed. If it wasn't for the kindness of the cow you would have surely frozen to death like your friend. Surely now you will understand when I say we shall be unable to turn natural advantage to account unless we make use of local guides. Your elders were wise and knew what they were saying, they did not want to frighten you. Oh no. Had you watched the snow owl you could have found a small hole in a tree bough to sleep in and conserve your body heat, but no you were too full of youth to know. Hush now, relax. I tell you these things not to scold you, but to simply advise you.
You see the natural formation of the country is your best ally; but a power of estimating the adversary, of controlling the forces of victory, and of shrewdly calculating difficulties, dangers, and distances, constitutes the test of a wise one. The wise old owl knows only to hunt at night and to hide inside the bough of a tree during the day. He knows how cold it gets and that food is scarce during the err white as you call it. We call it snow."
"The young have so many things to learn if they are to survive. Of course, the first of these is that they have much to learn.
There is another lesson you need to learn. We cannot enter into alliances until we are acquainted with the designs of our neighbours. You see my new cold and hungry friend, your elders were the ones you should have kept an alliance with. Oh yes indeed. Instead, you choose that foolish youngster who could sing so well. Yes, my friend, I have had my eye on you for a very long time. Patience, my lovely meal, patience is the key. Hence the saying: One may KNOW how to conquer without being able to DO it. That’s right you just lay there and listen to my voice and I will share my wisdom with you. To secure ourselves against defeat lies in our own hands, but the opportunity of defeating the enemy is provided by the enemy himself. So I waited. I knew if you stayed it would only be a matter of time before we got so close. I will have to wait for the thaw to get close to your friend, mmm it is good to have something to look forward to."
The young bird, exhausted from his adventure so far, listened to the voice of the fox, but not the words. His slumber deepened.
"Hence to fight and conquer in all your battles is not supreme excellence; supreme excellence consists in breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting. You are not fighting me, young one are you? No, you are so tired and dull-witted. You probably do not understand me when I say, with my power intact I will dispute the mastery of the land, and thus, without wasting energy, my triumph will be complete and my belly full. This is the method of attacking by stratagem. I could not get to you in the trees or when you were flying. I had to wait. You see, I listened to my mother when she told me of the snow and what I had to do to survive and I will survive.
No, you probably did not understand a scintilla of that, so let me put it more bluntly and simply. Instead of saying information cannot be usefully employed without a certain intuitive sagacity, I should just say don't just listen to others who agree with you for they could be as naive or stupid as you are, oh and as wrong. Listen to what your elders tell you, sometimes it is in your best interest to follow customs, it is there for a reason. Question it if you have to but do not vary from it if you don't know what you are doing. Maybe if you had waited until you had made two or three flights you might have been smart enough to survive, maybe not.
The biggest lesson for you to learn is that when you are up to your eyeballs in shit, keep your mouth shut, not all who shit on you are your enemies and not all who pull you out of the shit are your friends."
Sadly sighed the fox, some lessons come too late for some. With this, the fox placed the young bird in his mouth and ate him...