Aesop’s Fables

This blog post is called Aesop’s Fables, and it’s about Aesop, and the
fables, but Aesop’s Fables are not the name of the fables,
that’s just the name of the blog post, and that’s why I called the post Aesop’s Fables.

Now it all started two weeks ago, was on – two Thursdays ago,
when my friend (Dave) and I discussed which book to read next,
but I was absentminded, I live in my
own distracted world, with my thoughts and mistaken knowledge.
And I decided since Joss Whedon had released a little movie, just a little known play
named Much Ado about Nothing, filmed in a matter of days
during the filming of Avengers, using alumni from his most famous shows (you know, Buffy, Angel
Firefly and Dollhouse), that I simply must read the book. Havin’ all that desire,
seein’ as how I love Joss Whedon, I deduced that Midsummer’s Night Dream in our book Top Ten
simply must say “Much Ado About Nothing”.

I got to the library, and finally figured out where Dewey hid Shakespeare’s plays
I found a row of Shakespearian plays, and I decided that the play must simply be As You Like it. So
even though something in my mind nagged me, I went ahead and checked the book out. I carried it home.
And began to read it.

Well I got done and went to write my post on Thursday. Last minute, I know. I looked up As You Like It
a little play about mistaken identities and love, as well as a showcase for Shakespeare’s fondness for women dressed as men.
It wasn’t there. I quickly looked up Joss Whedon, on IMDB, a place I know slightly better than Dewey’s Decimal System.
Seeing that it was Much Ado About Nothing, I drove to the library to see if they were open. They were.

I found it. And I drove around. With errands, all over town, up hills and down hills
and no, not through the woods, but through many a stoplight. I paused a moment and began to read
Much Ado about Nothing. And decided that I should wait until home, as the temperature was high and reading in my car
gets a little sticky and uncomfortable. So, I braved the hills and the traffic lights and got home.

After making Amelia her dinner of toast and yogurt and banana (sometimes we have untraditional dinners here), I turned to my
trusty copy of The Top Ten and quickly flipped to Much Ado About Nothing. I had a curious urge to find out exactly which writers decided
Much Ado About Nothing was spectacular enough to love enough to put on a list of their top ten favorite books. And…I couldn’t find it either.
Panicked, I searched through the index. You know, in case they decided to hide it under D for Dream or K for “Kim’s insane”. They didn’t. Then my eyes fell on Midsummer’s Night Dream. I realized my error and proceeded to have Much Ado about Something. I was worked into a panicked frenzy of first world problems.

I flipped through the index, looking and hoping for something fast and easy to read. Because, you know, I promised you all
an entry on Saturday. And my eyes fell on Aesop’s Fables (Remember, it’s about Aesop and his fables, but not the name of the fables, it’s just why I called this blog post Aesop’s Fables). My text to Dave read something like “Omg. I am an idiot. I confused Much Ado About Nothing with Midsummer’s Night Dream. Can I do a post on Aesop’s Fables?” Dave, infinitely patient, since I had already messaged him on Thursday morning with “Omg! I read As You Like It. I meant to read Midsummer’s Night Dream. Do you want to post? Do you want me to put up a sign saying post on Saturday? Because you know, I totally could read it by Saturday”, responded that it was okay to do that.

So last night, I sat and read. I read about foxes and bears and men, oh my. I read about turtles and hares and ants, oh my. I read about grasshoppers and eagles and camels, oh my. I read about how I should prepare for the winter. I read about how I will be judged by the company I keep. And I remembered being young, around ten, and reading a huge book from the library (this would have been Lindsey AFB library in Weisbaden Germany, which has no bearing on this tale but I felt it necessary to add) of Aesop’s Fables (which isn’t the name of the fables, you know) with beautiful illustrations. And that’s all I could think of as I read through page after page on
There is a simplicity to Aesop’s Fables.

Most people agree on the idea that Aesop was a slave, around 650 B.C. Now Aesop’s fables are all short. And last night as I lay in bed in an insomniac state, I realized, well duh, of course they’re all short. It’s not like it was exactly easy to write a lot back then. This is why Aesop’s Fables isn’t the name of the Fables, it’s just Aesop never titled them, as a comprehensive whole. Instead there are names for each individual one. I’m not sure if Aesop named them. While the fables are interesting, using animal personification to drive home morals, the titles lack a bit of flair. There are The Bull and the Goat, The Bull and The Calf, et cetera. But that’s okay. Maybe in 650 B.C. there was less importance attached to titles. Either way, I read most of them, and wondered sometimes if I was reading ones actually from Aesop. One can never trust the web anymore you know. Maybe the NSA person monitoring my web browsing hadn’t read Aesop’s Fables, which means I helped pass the time for some hapless drone sitting there clicking and following orders. No need to thank me, sorry that I tend to not surf much porn. Only so many times someone can watch you play Candy Crush saga after all.

So, in conclusion, I hope you understand my need to wait until Saturday to bring you a post.

The End.

Oh wait. This post inspired by Alice’s Restaurant, Arlo Guthrie and David S. Atkinson.

Now really.

The End.

No. Sorry. Wait again. James Salter listed this as one of his top ten books. Wonder if he read the same beautiful copy I did as a kid.


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