A Slayers Koan

(being a brief parable in which almost nobody is enlightened but things turn out fine anyway)

It came to pass that one day the great sage Noonsa was swimming in a clear pool beneath an embankment. Above him, two monks had removed their sandals and were dangling their toes in the water.

"See the fish swimming to and fro," said one, whose name was Tsu. "See them gleam in the sun. Such is their joy!"

"You're no fish," said the other, whose name was Chen. "How can you tell they're happy?"

"You're no Tsu," said Tsu. "How can you tell I can't tell?"

The second monk's flash of insight was interrupted by the sight of the great sage Noonsa rising from the surface of the water and flailing his skinny arms.

"Brothers!" exclaimed the great sage Noonsa. "Attend!" And he flailed his arms further, to ensure he had the full attention of both monks. A parable of great wisdom and pungency had just formed itself in his mind, and he intended to share it with his fellow scholars.

"Many centuries ago, in the court of Emperor  Fi Lo-Mel," Noonsa explained, "a call went out for great artists and poets from across the land to travel to the court to receive the honor that was their due. Ministers traveled the north and south of the empire, and the east and west. In a rural province they encountered the hermit poet Hre'zo who was angling for trout in a stream. The ministers approached him reverently and told him of the Emperor's wish that he be honored at court. Hre'szo continued to fish placidly, paying them no mind.

'Hre'szo,' asked the ministers, concerned that the great poet had lost his hearing. 'Do you not wish to receive the Emperor's blessing?'

After several seconds, Hre'szo pulled his line from the water and turned to face the ministers.

'In the court of the Emperor there is enshrined the shell of a turtle that died over two thousand years ago,' he said. 'It sits on a silk cushion surrounded by ornaments of exquisite beauty, and is venerated daily by memebers of the court.'

The ministers nodded.

'Do you think the turtle would be happier having its shell honored, or wagging its tail in the mud?' asked Hre'szo.

The ministers thought on this. 'Why, wagging its tail in the mud, of course,' said one eventually.

'Then begone,' said Hre'szo, casting out his line again. 'For I intend to continue wagging mine in the mud.'

With that, the ministers departed."

The great sage Noonsa folded his sausage-fingered hands across the outward curve of his stomach and beamed effulgently at the monks. It was an excellent parable, he was sure of it, full of wisdom both subtle and profound. Perhaps he could convince one of them to write it down.

The monks stared at the great sage, their eyes wide with the utter incomprehension that all the great writings claimed was the immediate precedent to enlightenment.  Tsu turned to Chen, face aglow with wonder.

"Holy shit," he said. "A talking fish!"

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Author's Note: There are two honest-to-god koans embedded in this story. I did not come up with them myself. The bit about the happy fish and the bit about the turtle shell are both shamelessly cribbed from the work of a Chinese scholar of antiquity named Chuang'tzu, who made an amusing habit of starring himself in his stories. His copyright has long since run out.