Once upon a time, there was a Kingdom where the people were troubled. The kings and nobles that ruled them were vane, corrupt and cared little for those they were charged with protecting. While most of the people had lives that were fine and happy, the state of the Kingdom often made them sad. There was just always a nagging feeling that the Kingdom could be so much better.
One day a young boy decided he would make things better. He was smart, handsome and brave, and though he was the type men would have happily followed into battle were he a Knight his chosen profession was Thinker. The way that the boy saw it, the problem with the kings and nobles was that the Philosophers they followed were flawed. What the Kingdom needed, he realized, was a Better Philosophy to rule the land.
The boy worked and thought tirelessly trying to create a new Philosophy that would bring the Kingdom joy and prosperity. To that end, he looked hard at what worked and what didn’t with other Philosophies, and endeavored to change them so that their Goodness shown through, but their Wickedness was no more. And after years of work and thinking, he wrote a book, asking all the Kingdom’s rulers to follow his new Philosophy, which he called Trippy.
And oh, my children, how wondrous was the philosophy of Trippy. It created a system that would make Good Men and Women even more free, and grant even the most humble pauper a road to great wealth. It would embrace the acceptance and respect of all Ideas and Philosophies, knowing that in it’s Greatness all would choose to be Trippy of their own volition. We mortals must of course await death to taste True Paradise, but a Trippy world would bring us so close as to not know the difference. So great were the boy’s words that soon many in the Kingdom were longing for Trippy kings and nobles.
At first the Trippies (as the boy’s followers were come to be known) were a fine and inspiring lot of learned men and women; each was a great Thinker is his or her own right. They spread the Wisdom of Trippyism to the more common people who were so excited that a Philosophy had come that would bring them even greater happiness and freedom.
As Trippyism grew in stature, some of the Thinkers were joyful to learn that their place in the movement brought great personal boon. Shopkeepers often gave them meat pies for free, or refilled their tankards without extra charge. And many a manly Thinker found that a comely lass might grant him favor for his Trippy status. Before long, sadly, jealousy and disagreements broke out among the Thinkers. It was decided that this was because although all Trippies were certainly good not all were Pure, and they wisely began to weed out those that were less Trippy that their Philosophy not succumb to Wickedness.
The people’s love for Trippy grew and grew, till the day came that the rulers’ Philosophers, suddenly aware of the people their kings and nobles ruled for the first time in many years, invited the best most Trippy of the Trippy Thinkers to a grand feast to praise them. The boy – wait, do you remember the boy, children? The smart, brave and handsome one that we began our tale with? No? Oh… Well, no matter, he’s not that important – anyway, the boy reminded his Thinkers that those Philosophers were wicked and corrupt and should not be trusted. The Thinkers thanked the boy for his great words, and then promptly put him on a ship that would sail him across the seas to spread his words to lands far away. After all, they were now more than capable of explaining Trippy to the people.
The feast was fabulous, and the Trippy Thinkers began to see that with the help of the Philosophers that ruled they could build a Good and Magnificent Trippy Kingdom. This pleased the Philosophers, who had their Heralds proclaim the Trippy wisdom to the people. And this was well and good, for many of the people did not read, or if they could they did not have the time to read Trippy, so the Heralds were able to shorten and simplify Trippyism into a few easily remembered phrases so that it could be quickly learned. What’s more, the Heralds were able to let the people know – oh wondrous news! – that many of the Kings and Nobles that had ruled the land werealready Trippy, and in fact had been so for time immemorial. To save time, all the people needed to do was to give those kings and nobles more money, land and power. And the people, wise in their nature, did just that.
Now, there were some people who had in fact read Trippy long ago and, confused by the rapid changes, foolishly spoke their ignorance aloud (as fools are oft to do). The Trippy Thinkers were now declaring the poorest and hungriest irrelevant, they said, but hadn’t the boy written that Trippy would eventually lead to their being no poor or hungry? Also, they seemed to remember something about how Thinkers should be Thinkers – so why were the Trippy Thinkers moving into castles, and allowing the Philosophers to make them kings and nobles?
The Thinkers and Philosophers laughed at this foolishness, and had the Heralds remind all the good people that these treasonous nay-sayers – the Blame the Kingdom First crowd – were not even real Trippies! The good Trippy people scorned these traitors, and agreed to call them N’ippies, the contraction the Heralds used to mean Not Really Trippies.
Eventually, of course, the happy ending arrived as all the kings and nobles began to declare themselves to be Trippies, and they would argue on through the night as to who was the Trippiest, each declaring him or herself the best-est friend ever of the smart, handsome and brave boy. Every now and then some fool might point out that Trippyism seemingly hadn’t changed anything, really. This was all well and good, because that’s how the people learned to identify these rascals as N’ippies.
And everyone lived happily ever after.
Or at least mostly so.
For truth be told, the people were troubled. The kings and nobles that ruled them were vane, corrupt and cared little for those they were charged with protecting. While most of the people had lives that were fine and happy, the state of the Kingdom often made them sad. There was just always a nagging feeling that the Kingdom could be so much better.