anecdote
an anecdote
For those of you whom I haven't already made read this; This is an anecdote I came up with for my honours thesis project about state-building & imperialism in the reconstruction of Afghanistan. I thought it might be a good way to side-step all the political science jargon for those of you who who don't find that stuff particularly appealing. Enjoy
An Anecdote
An unnamed shopkeeper sits at a shopping stall in a nondescript marketplace. The shopkeeper is the pride of the whole city; people come from far and wide to purchase his beautiful & ornate rugs. One day as the shopkeeper sits in his stall, a man who doesn’t really fit in walks up to him, takes off his hat and gives a nod to the man that looks like he means well, but his nod looks more like a bow that a Kung Fu fighter would give to their Sensei in the Karate Kid. “Wax-on Wax-off” the shopkeeper thinks to himself. He asks the man how he may be of service, to which the man responds he will be of service to him. The man claims he comes on behalf of a wealthy benefactor who represents a distant community. He further mentions that he is at the market to tell the man he is indeed very lucky, because he will receive free insurance for his shopping stall, in order to protect him against theft of his ornate—and expensive—rugs. The shopkeeper is perplexed, and thanks the man profusely but asks him why he should receive the help. The man points out that the wealthy donor he represents is upset because the rugs stolen from the poor shopkeeper’s stall are being shipped to the donor’s own community where they are being sold for cheaper than the rugs being sold by the wealthy donor, therefore the man MUST accept his help. Therefore, in order to help the poor shopkeeper keep his rugs from being stolen he will help provide him insurance that will also nicely ensure that his rugs don’t �?undercut’ the donor’s competition. Needless to say, the shopkeeper is still confused but he assumes the gentleman means well and agrees to accept his help. The gentleman is ecstatic that he can be of service, so he puts his fingers in his mouth and lets out a huge whistle. Next thing you know, 15 burly men in black shirts that read “Ultra-Modern Security” show up carrying boxes labelled “Surveillance System.” The shopkeeper is alarmed and asks the man what is going on, to which the man says “Oh well if you’re going to bring your shop up to snuff and ensure your goods aren’t stolen then you need to make sure you have surveillance systems set up, with video cameras and all the other bells and whistles!” The shopkeeper looks perplexed as the men rush around screwing video cameras into the posts of his stall, and run cables that one can’t trip over because they need to be climbed over. When it’s all said and done, the man takes the power bar filled up till the point where it looks like it’s going to cause a fire, and he looks for a wall outlet to plug it into. Now the man’s confused, he looks at the shopkeeper and he asks him where the power outlets are. The shopkeeper points out that he doesn’t have any and that over the 300 years his family has been making ornate rugs, they’ve never needed them. The insurance man starts thinking to himself how he might possibly find a way to run some power lines into the market and it crosses his mind to ask “well if you don’t have outlets, do you at least have security guards you can call if you see someone stealing something?” The shopkeeper furrows his eyebrows and looks at the man like he’s crazy. “No, I don’t, my brothers and I take turns watching the shop, and while we have the odd robbery, it’s never put us out of business.” Now the insurance man is furrowing his eyebrows like the shopkeeper’s crazy. The man looks at the shopkeeper and says “My friend, you’re either going to have to build power lines, hire security guards, or go out of business, because there’s no way you can stay in business without these security mechanisms.” The gentlemanly-outsider walks off in a huff, leaving the stall wired to the gills, and the shopkeeper peeking over the wreckage of cords and cameras installed by the insurance man whose intentions were good, but who just didn’t understand.
For those of you whom I haven't already made read this; This is an anecdote I came up with for my honours thesis project about state-building & imperialism in the reconstruction of Afghanistan. I thought it might be a good way to side-step all the political science jargon for those of you who who don't find that stuff particularly appealing. Enjoy
An Anecdote
An unnamed shopkeeper sits at a shopping stall in a nondescript marketplace. The shopkeeper is the pride of the whole city; people come from far and wide to purchase his beautiful & ornate rugs. One day as the shopkeeper sits in his stall, a man who doesn’t really fit in walks up to him, takes off his hat and gives a nod to the man that looks like he means well, but his nod looks more like a bow that a Kung Fu fighter would give to their Sensei in the Karate Kid. “Wax-on Wax-off” the shopkeeper thinks to himself. He asks the man how he may be of service, to which the man responds he will be of service to him. The man claims he comes on behalf of a wealthy benefactor who represents a distant community. He further mentions that he is at the market to tell the man he is indeed very lucky, because he will receive free insurance for his shopping stall, in order to protect him against theft of his ornate—and expensive—rugs. The shopkeeper is perplexed, and thanks the man profusely but asks him why he should receive the help. The man points out that the wealthy donor he represents is upset because the rugs stolen from the poor shopkeeper’s stall are being shipped to the donor’s own community where they are being sold for cheaper than the rugs being sold by the wealthy donor, therefore the man MUST accept his help. Therefore, in order to help the poor shopkeeper keep his rugs from being stolen he will help provide him insurance that will also nicely ensure that his rugs don’t �?undercut’ the donor’s competition. Needless to say, the shopkeeper is still confused but he assumes the gentleman means well and agrees to accept his help. The gentleman is ecstatic that he can be of service, so he puts his fingers in his mouth and lets out a huge whistle. Next thing you know, 15 burly men in black shirts that read “Ultra-Modern Security” show up carrying boxes labelled “Surveillance System.” The shopkeeper is alarmed and asks the man what is going on, to which the man says “Oh well if you’re going to bring your shop up to snuff and ensure your goods aren’t stolen then you need to make sure you have surveillance systems set up, with video cameras and all the other bells and whistles!” The shopkeeper looks perplexed as the men rush around screwing video cameras into the posts of his stall, and run cables that one can’t trip over because they need to be climbed over. When it’s all said and done, the man takes the power bar filled up till the point where it looks like it’s going to cause a fire, and he looks for a wall outlet to plug it into. Now the man’s confused, he looks at the shopkeeper and he asks him where the power outlets are. The shopkeeper points out that he doesn’t have any and that over the 300 years his family has been making ornate rugs, they’ve never needed them. The insurance man starts thinking to himself how he might possibly find a way to run some power lines into the market and it crosses his mind to ask “well if you don’t have outlets, do you at least have security guards you can call if you see someone stealing something?” The shopkeeper furrows his eyebrows and looks at the man like he’s crazy. “No, I don’t, my brothers and I take turns watching the shop, and while we have the odd robbery, it’s never put us out of business.” Now the insurance man is furrowing his eyebrows like the shopkeeper’s crazy. The man looks at the shopkeeper and says “My friend, you’re either going to have to build power lines, hire security guards, or go out of business, because there’s no way you can stay in business without these security mechanisms.” The gentlemanly-outsider walks off in a huff, leaving the stall wired to the gills, and the shopkeeper peeking over the wreckage of cords and cameras installed by the insurance man whose intentions were good, but who just didn’t understand.
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