Tales from the Yurt number 1:
An occasional series of cautionary fables: "Unhalfbricking"
Come into the yurt. Find a place closer to the fire. Here is my story. It’s all true, especially the parts that didn’t happen.
Early one morning I was driving along a lonely road in a distant part of the realm. My vehicle began to judder and shudder. As I drew to a halt the vehicle jolted forward as the front driver side wheel detached itself and rolled into the roadside ditch.
I examined my vehicle, retrieved my wheel, and wondered what to do. The wheel and axle appeared undamaged but all four wheel nuts were gone. I began to retrace my journey, hoping to recover the missing nuts. As I set off a head appeared from behind the high wall that bordered the road, and a man called out.
"Can I be of assistance?" he enquired.
"I fear not – unless you can come down from your high place and help me find my missing wheel nuts," I responded.
"Sadly I cannot leave the walls that enclose me," he said, "for the world considers me a Dangerous Lunatic, and I reside in this Asylum until the end of my days. But I suggest you abandon your fruitless search. Instead take a single nut from each of the three wheels that remain secure. Use those to fix the fourth in place. There is a mechanic in the nearest town, only seven miles along this road. If you drive cautiously the 12 wheel nuts will keep you safe until the mechanic can provide a more long term solution."
"What wisdom!" I exclaimed, "What vision! Surely a man of your talents cannot be insane!"
As I set about jacking up the body of my vehicle he began his sad tale.
"It is a sad tale I tell," he began, "I was a businessman of high regard, and I grew prosperous and successful. But I felt the need to control everything and everyone. Nothing anyone could do would meet my standards. I grew fretful and distracted. My hindsight was legendary, my criticism fierce – and my business in trouble."
Entranced with his story I removed a nut from each of the three wheels.
"My obsession knew no limits," he continued, "My staff feared and avoided me. So my paranoia grew. Everyone had a development plan. It said Be More Like Me."
With the last nut in place I wiped my oily hands and lowered and stowed the jack.
"Then came the day when it all fell apart," he concluded, "and so you see me here a sadder and wiser man, reflecting on his folly and resigned to his fate."
I wiped away a tear of sympathy.
"You are a fine fellow with the jewel of self knowledge!" I cried. "I will pursue your case to the limit of my skills! I swear I will free you from this place! Your story will be told and the world will acknowledge your sanity and your gifts!"
"Ah," he sighed, "you have good intentions, but your fervour will fade. Others have made these promises before. But here I remain."
"I am unlike those fair weather friends," I said, "my word is my bond. I go from here with this commitment: I shall help and you shall walk free!"
With that I turned to go. As I slid into the driving seat a half brick struck me behind the ear.
"Don’t forget!" he called.
Any system left to itself achieves a state of maximum inconvenience