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.
So we should send Tobin a can of tennis balls for Christmas?
Nyet!
This is something that my Bro-in-law could use. His dog is into everything.
For example, last year a friend of my Bro-in-law dog-sat his dog for a week. At the same time the friend was caring for a baby in diapers. Of course on the second day the dog tipped over the diaper pail and ate one. The vet gave them some stuff to make the dog throw up, which it did in their living room on some carpet. When the dog threw up, it brought up the diaper and a missing sock.