The road up the ridge hasn’t been maintained in a while. The road guy used to grade it, which was a damned funny sight, but now it’s down to shale all over and he doesn’t waste time on it. There’s this one interlude that isn’t too uneven and isn’t too steep, but it was covered with big jagged shards of shale. I just got new tires in February, for the first time in I don’t know when, and I’m more solicitous of their welfare than this. So on the way down this evening LB and I paused while I cleared a bunch of rocks off that part of the road.
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They say that Louis XIV had the inscription Ultima Ratio Regum cast into all the cannon of the French Army. It means “The Ultimate Argument of Kings,” and that always struck me as one of the most honest and up-front things any ruler or would-be ruler ever said. “We can dress it up prettier than this, but when it comes down to the unvarnished truth this is what it’s about: You’ll do as I say or I’ll send my goons to kill you.”
I thought about that for a long time. If there’s an ultimate argument, it seems only logical that there must be an ultimate answer. For years I thought the ultimate answer must be the bullets in my rifle, but it never seemed quite right. I’ve got bullets – he’s got frigging Cannon Balls. I mean, if there were three hundred million rifles throwing bullets at him, then maybe. But we all know that’s not going to happen. So if there’s an ultimate answer to his ultimate argument, it sure as hell ain’t bullets.
It finally came to me – and that’s when I abandoned the city and most of my stuff, and gave all that was behind me a good stiff Randian Shrug.
The ultimate answer to kings is not a bullet, but a belly laugh.
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A perfect example of enlightened self-interest in action.
I currently rent a joint, LL hasn’t paid the road assoc. fees, so I keep my head held high by filling potholes for the GD lazy speeders – most of whom haven’t paid their fees; but who insist on pounding out the bottom of the last round of potholes.
ARRgg.
I hate Road Assoc.BS.
QHM