Bribem Beaver Logs On

By William R. Taylor

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Follow the adventures of Bribem Beaver, Ollie and Olga Owl, Belinda Blackwidow, and many other critters.

• Language: English
• Publisher: William R. Taylor
• Release date: Aug 2, 2011
• ISBN: 9781466035386

William R. Taylor

I've occasionally included biographical bits in some of the comments after each tale in "Bribem Beaver Logs On." Here I'll just provide a few facts. I practiced child and family psychiatry until retirement a few years ago. My wife and I have three kids and six grandchildren. I wrote a few fables several years ago, and started again last year. There will be several more volumes after "Bribem Beaver Logs On." Before the Bribem book, I published "Lethal American Confusion: How Bush and the Pacifists Each Failed in the War on Terrorism." Another of my books is "Stressed Family, Strong Family," a self-help book for kids and families. A search on those titles will take you to the sites.

Book preview

Introduction

These stories aim to help future generations understand who we of the Twenty-first Century thought we were, where we believed we were headed -- and why anyone in their right mind would ever have consumed an overcooked, slime-filled seedpod called okra.

(I just checked to see if okra even appears; it does show up in couple of these stories, though they may not appear in this first volume. I find that I can't recall most of the details of these stories, once I've entered them. I enter them, then exit them; the tales recede into the same space dreams occupy when not on stage.)

I thought this would be a small collection, but the number has continued to grow. I'll therefore divide the tales into several volumes.

Alert readers will probably find inconsistencies: some animals seem to have changed their first names from one tale to their next. I'm still investigating this, but have insufficient evidence to file charges. A few seem to have married other spouses when I wasn't looking. I hope they got divorced first.

Occasionally I've told myself that I ought to go back over the tales and sharpen up the personality traits of some of the characters.

So much for good intentions.

About five of these tales appeared in the 1970s, in a publication about psychotherapy called Voices. I ran across that reprint in 2008, and found a few notes describing other ideas. I began playing with those, and then other tales came to life.

This first collection introduces Bribem Beaver, Ollie Owl, Alicia Aardvark, Belinda Blackwidow, and others. There is a website, BribemBeaversLog.blogspot.com, which contains a few of the stories I put up while I was waiting for Bribem to show up and help out with the site. I got tired of waiting for him and went ahead with this volume.

Future titles in this series might include

Bribem Beaver Gives a Dam

Bribem Beaver Walks into a Bar...

Bribem Beaver for Congress, Parts 1, 2, and 3

There will probably be a couple of others.

All the stories are finished, it's just a matter of sorting them into collections -- and possibly adding some details about Scratchnya, the country that appears in some.

The morals seem loosely connected to the stories. I don't recommend spending too much time trying to find close links.

I wrote the comments that follow the stories stories after finishing the entire collection.

Before we get to the prose, a couple of verses seem to belong here.

Prologue

Perusing more than one per day

Of fables, so some people say,

Runs a risk of overload

Turns prince or princess into toad.

So read apace, but do not race,

Consult your mirror, check your face;

Pleased with your features: beautiful, bold?

Make sure your warts are well controlled!

Epilog (copied here for the benefit of those

who don't make it to the end of this collection)

If the corn above seems rather high,

Realize you're dealing with a guy

Who, unlike Aesop, isn't able

Always to craft a flawless fable.

Chapter 1. Horace Hyena Assumes Control of the Royal Joke Collection

King Leo asked the Senate for a volunteer to take over his favorite department, the Royal Joke Collection. (He didn't know that the populace also referred to his three sons as the Royal Joke Collection.)

The Collection contained most of his favorite jokes; whenever anyone in the kingdom wanted to publish, or even just tell, a new joke, the Official Jokeeper had to approve the addition to the repertoire. In fact, even to tell an existing joke, the would-be comedian had to sign it out. Since only one copy could be signed out at a time, most jokers made a practice of hoarding several jokes, so they wouldn't be caught short. The Jokeeper had to keep a sharp eye out for hoarders, and the position was usually a one-year appointment because this hoarder-policing challenge wore people out. The Jokeeper also tended to lose his or her sense of humor after about a year.

When Leo made his request for joke collection help, several Senators had to hide their smirks and guffaws behind their paws, as they thought about the three royal-joke princes. No one volunteered. Finally, Ralph Rooster mounted the speaker's perch and nominated Horace Hyena. He laughs all the time, anyway, Ralph reasoned. He'd be a natural.

I do not laugh, that's a malicious myth, as you well know, Horace snarled. Then he cleared his throat and continued, My so-called laugh is my unique way of barking, as you also well know.

So do you want to become the Jokeeper or not? Ralph asked.

What's the salary again?

Negotiable.

Negotiable. All right, I want three carcasses, one hundred thirty pounds each, per day, one for me and my wife, and two for my kids.

Carcasses! exclaimed Ralph, scratching his neck with a claw. I don't know whether Leo is going to approve three per day. Nor where he'll get em if he does.

Not my problem, Horace growled. Three a day.

When Ralph told Leo about Horace's demand, Leo snarled, pawed, snarled again, frowned, and muttered something about high-handed Horace Hyena. All right, he said finally, but my three sons are going to pick out three convicts to be executed each day and handed over to this joker.

So Horace Hyena became Jokeeper. But Leo's sons were so despised by the populace that people rose up in rebellion at the idea that Leo's sons would supply meals to the Hyena family. The people seized the three sons, hung them by their belts, and fed them to Horace and his family. (The people almost hung Leo for good measure, but spared him when he threatened to eliminate all references to the people from his memoirs.)

Then they set up a democratic government, which has shared power and remained in force to this day. Because almost everything in a democracy has its ridiculous side, the position of Jokeeper has been eliminated as no longer necessary. and the role has been distributed among legislators, lobbyists and others of that ilk.

Moral:

Any king must curb his bent

To delegate to incompetent

Kin and other sycophants,

Lest the lot get hung by the belt of their pants.

Comment

A few days ago I was feeling I had failed to include enough of the dark side of life in this collection. I had forgotten this tale, which seems dark enough. As a psychiatrist, I'm struck by this rapid dispensing of mob justice and lack of due process. Also, I wonder whether Horace knew where this meal came from?

You might think King Leo will appear in many of these stories, but he does not. Is this because royalty has become rather irrelevant in the 21st Century? Or have I ignored him because of unresolved Oedipal issues?

One last historical note: I wrote this story long before the 2011 uprisings in the Middle East.

Chapter 2. Gus Gorilla's Loss of Self

Gus Gorilla found himself at a crossroads. His employer moved all operations overseas, prompting Gus to take early retirement. Now he stood for a while at this crossroads and decided to take the path labeled meditation. (He had once dated a meditator but couldn't recall much about her except her bad temper. Unfortunately, her temper clashed with Gus's easily triggered feelings of mistrust and they didn't last long.)

With his mistrust antennae always scanning, Gus could not be considered an ideal candidate for meditation, but he did not know this. And after a few weeks, his teacher, Stan Just Sit Sloth, was actually surprised at Gus's progress toward the egoless state the tradition valued above all others.

A couple of days later, Just Sit got another surprise, and not a pleasant one. Gus came in and growled: Someone stole my Self. Just Sit smiled, thinking at first that Gus was speaking symbolically or making a Zen-flavored joke. But as he sat waiting for Gus to continue, Just Sit realized that something else must be going on.

And don't tell me to call the cops, Gus growled even more deeply. They're all on the take from whoever ripped off my Self.

Had Gus steered his chicken wire canoe into the Paranoia Rapids, Just Sit wondered. How deeply would he sink? He certainly didn't sound enlightened, and that remark about cops… Just Sit just sat for a few minutes, and then he heard himself saying, Well, Gus, I guess we'll need to start our own manhunt for that missing Self. Eh?

Just Sit also resolved to phone his friend and consultant, Ollie Owl, as soon as the session was over. Ollie would almost certainly have some insight into what might be going on with Gus, and how to manage the crisis.

Manhunt, growled Gus, his voice hollow and seeming to come from a great distance away. Manhunt. You mean humans, or animals?

I suppose any and all sentient beings.

That's a big order. But I think I know where to start. Top of the order. And top of the morning to you, he added. Gus got up off his zafu and left in a hurry.

Just Sit called Ollie as soon as he heard Gus's car start. After he had outlined the case, Ollie said, Hmm. Tough situation. Is Gus by any chance the son of old George?

I think so.

Well, George got pretty paranoid near the end. Maybe it runs in the family.

What I'm really concerned about is --

Whether Gus's dangerous, Ollie completed the thought.

Exactly.

So how can you check further?

I think I'll phone his wife.

Behind his back? That'll really help his mistrust!

Granted. But I don't think I can just meditate my way out of this one.

So Just Sit phoned Grace Gorilla and asked if she had noticed any changes. Relationships with partners often went through seismic shifts when someone began to meditate seriously.

Being retired and all really got him agitated there for a while, but he's a lot calmer now, for sure. I think this meditation is really helping him. I have to admit I was pretty skeptical there at first, but…

Calmer, thought Just Sit after the call. Calmer at home, more agitated in the session. Maybe I've been pushing him too fast. Or maybe I'm overreacting to the session.

Meanwhile, Gus had decided to confront a suspect. Who do I suspect? he asked himself. Who's the most likely to covet my Self? Who jousts with me regularly for dominance in savannah and forest?

Only one animal fit this picture and Gus confronted him at the castle.

Leo, he said to the King, you're the only one big enough and jealous enough to have coveted my Self. If you'll confess, better still, if you'll return it, I'll consider the case closed. Okay?

What nonsense are you stirring up in that gyrus-laden and fissure-riven jelly-brain of yours? Leo snorted. I haven't been within three thousand yards you in months, as you well know.

Action at a distance, growled Gus. Well-known leonine tactic.

Gus, I knew that meditation nonsense was a bad idea. For you, anyway. Too much introspection…

So you still deny --

Gus, I have nothing to deny. And you need to have more respect for your King.

I'll respect you when I get my Self back.

Okay, sighed Leo, as he saw Gus out. Have it your way.

Gus stood in the yard of the palace trying to think who else could have ripped off his Self. Then he had a sudden insight. Wait, he almost shouted aloud, what if it's my Soul, not my Self, that's gone? Yes, my