For as long as anyone can remember, this hamlet has been a one-gorilla town.
How crazy would it be to take on an 800-pound gorilla?
Very crazy, especially an 800-pound gorilla that had the whole town under its big, fat, hairy thumb. And especially if that gorilla was a bully, renowned for throwing his weight around. Sometimes all it took to frighten the village was a loud snort and an earth-shaking foot stomp.
Nobody in the village respected the 800-pound gorilla. But they tolerated his behavior. After all, he was the 800-pound gorilla. His way or the highway. Piss him off, pay the price.
Even so, in the history of this one-gorilla town, nobody could recall such a heartless — might I say loveless — gorilla.
One thing was obvious, the 800-pound gorilla certainly didn’t act as if he loved his slave monkeys, at least the remaining ones.
Mind you, he once had many monkeys, until one by one he started banishing monkeys so he wouldn’t have so many to feed and care for. The remaining monkeys noticed their fellow monkeys’ fate. They got the point. Quickly, everyone, back to the banana-picking. You could be next.
Eventually, the 800-pound gorilla had barely enough monkeys to keep him supplied with bananas. Those remaining monkeys had quite a job on their hands because they were charged not only with finding more bananas but also doing the work left by the departed monkeys.
A few of the monkeys were so fed up that they fantasized about speaking up or even running away. But they were so tired. Besides, where would they go in this one-gorilla town?
So they stayed. But they were very unhappy, and it showed. Sometimes they talked about their frustrations among themselves, which only enraged the gorilla so much that he punished the talkative monkeys into submission.
Take that. Now shut up and pick those bananas or I’ll give the job to monkeys in another village.
But nothing enraged the gorilla more than when the departed monkeys threw pebbles at the 800-pound gorilla. Or pointed at him. Or told the world what a smelly, rude gorilla he’d been to work for. They mooned and ridiculed the gorilla.
But he was helpless to stop them.
Why?
Because the gorilla lived in a cage created especially for him, by an even bigger gorilla. The truth was, he wasn’t that powerful after all.
When the villagers realized this, they felt great relief. They ignored the gorilla. They learned that they didn’t need his permission or his jungle connections.
The gorilla roared and stomped and snorted. But nobody cared. Because they’d had an epiphany: This town had thousands of monkeys but only one gorilla.
Majority rules.
