Screw Hołownia, Sienkiewicz, Bodnar or Sikorski. As Ziemkevich used to say: – They are just puppets.
Although in reality they are puppets, or even better – puppets, one red-haired puppet master – Tusk Donald – pulls the strings. (By the way, he's also a puppet, which in his psychopathic fascination he may not even know. He's attracted to the Berlin puppets. And they're also controlled by the Sims, even higher puppet masters. It's like the Meatball pyramid. )
What if you ignore all these empty, triumphalist lunatics and crush the nervous redhead who pulls the strings?
I guarantee you that then their entire pathological structure will fall apart. And if we're lucky, even at a higher level, Berlin's pathology will dissolve.
Let no one think that I think that the redhead should be eradicated, or that any harm should be done to it. No, no – it is enough to make fun of him so that even the puppets are no longer afraid of him, and their laughter echoes throughout the country for a long time.
I have presented this African story before. And today, by the fireplace, this tusk Donald reminded me of an African baboon. why I do not know.
I will tell you this famous African story that I heard from a Polish missionary in Tanzania.
******
I have to admit that these daily topics, as if they were specially shepherding me, made me a little tired. The idiocy of Holownia's cooking, their fussing because they run out of money, and the constant hunt for PIS and specific demons – Emperor Kaczynski and the sorcerer Macierewicz.
Maybe read about another hunt for a change. Also for thieves, also a gang, but in Africa
This story is well known in East Africa, and when asked after a sumptuous feast, it is eagerly told. Even many times.
******
The border between Mozambique and Tanzania is a quiet, agricultural area. The fertile land provides plenty of arable fields carefully managed by farmers. However, within a year, natural disasters hit the area. This time it wasn't a fire that spread quickly during the drought. It wasn't a cloud of locusts from a billion years ago that literally ate everything. This disaster was a bunch of hooligans, or rather baboon hooligans.
A herd of about a hundred people suddenly burst out of the jungle into the farmland, eating what they could and destroying what they couldn't. Numerous expeditions were organized, well armed with guns, but none achieved the desired effect. While the herd was being destroyed, the young baboon guards took up positions on high ground, on termite mounds and trees, giving immediate warning of impending danger. Their cunning cunning allowed them to avoid ambushes and disappear without a trace at the right moment.
I really don't like our name Baboon. Perhaps one of the Polish wanderers, when he first saw this male monkey in all its glory, immediately associated it with a peacock, and because his name was Jan, he called it a baboon. The English name baboon is full of African power and better reflects the character of this rather dog-like (no offense to the burka) creature. There is something scary about this old man. I immediately imagine a tram driver crushing Jaroslaw Kaczynski with a big hug…
In this destructive group, the monkeys were not so smart and cunning. Just an average bunch of monkey thugs that abound in the villages and towns of Africa, India and Indochina. Their leader was cunning and highly intelligent. He was strong. This species was not as colorful as the circus, but it was massive with amazing jaws and 10-centimeter teeth.
The herd obeyed him without the slightest reservation. Any attempt to disobey resulted in a severe bite. It can be said that no one jumped on it. They also had boundless trust in him. They followed like father and mother. Besides, he was the father of many of them. They were never disappointed with it. He knew exactly where the best bananas were and when the sugar cane was sweetest. He had a map of the entire area in his head, the best crops, access and evacuation routes. He saved everyone from the most clever traps and ambushes. He managed to disappear with his gang before the farmers came running with guns and wreaked havoc 40 kilometers away the next day. All over the East Coast, legends about these gangsters spread and supernatural powers were attributed to them.
As always, something must be done. Since no one wanted to move because it was their land, they decided together that they needed help. There were many famous hunters, guides and explorers in this area. However, no one can compare with some Africans who, one might say, were raised among animals. He knew their habits, species and behavior. He was the best. However, it was also expensive. After careful discussion, the local neighbors agreed on how much they could pay in the end and sent a delegation to the tracker. The amount they offered was ridiculous compared to what rich tourists from Europe or America were paying. But what interested him was the story itself, especially the reverence with which they spoke of the leader of the apes. He knew the baboons and what he expected from them. But here the audacity and wit were beyond anything he had ever encountered. He accepted it as a personal challenge, despite the money offered.
So they went together to the area where the monkey pack was wreaking havoc. For a week, every day at dawn he would go into the interior alone and observe the monkeys. And finally he came up with a plan. He ordered a hut to be built in the place indicated by him and indicated that he would supervise the construction himself. The hut was typical, round and low, but compared to the ones inhabited by the natives, it was extremely solid, the thick piles driven into the ground were not so compact, and the building was somewhat open. Finally, alone at night, he installed a shutter or door. Also very solid.
He knew very well that the monkeys were also watching them. Here and there monkey watchers appeared on high ground. The leader never appeared. The monkeys were familiar with the local huts of the people and repeatedly committed robbery and destruction in the houses. So their curiosity was not that great, just another human hut.
After a few days, the work was completed. The tracker personally checked the entire building, its strength and durability, as well as the mechanisms that he installed himself. Now it's time to solve the monkey problem. No one knew how he was going to do it. He ordered a good heap of food, fruit, and other crops, which were known to be the greatest delicacy of the monkeys, to be prepared. He placed all this in the middle of the hut and left the door open.
After a while, the monkey guards became agitated and their barking could be heard in the distance. Because you probably know that baboons sound like dogs. Fast, aggressive barking. And suddenly everything went silent. The hunter made sure that the attractive message reached the leader and reassured the others.
The African sat well hidden with binoculars to his eyes and waited for a long time. He was alone. There were no other people around. Some distance away, also well hidden, a group of young strong men waited for his sign. The wait was long. He could not smoke, although he smoked passionately. The monkeys smelled the smoke and became restless.
Finally something started. As he predicted, the monkey leader approached the hut slowly and cautiously. The bastard felt something, but he couldn't see what it might be. He began to walk in smaller and smaller circles around the hut. He faked his escape several times to fool possible enemies. In the end, cunning and greed and, of course, a passion for theft won out. The one at the height of the open door rushed inside and tried to get as much candy as possible. And then the released lever closed the door. The baboon got angry. He ran through the empty interior and hit the walls with his whole body, trying to break the pile. People who were informed came running and shouting at the panopticon inside the hut. The tracker wanted to tire the animal out as much as possible, because being strong and relaxed it was too much of a challenge even for a large group of people.
After long attacks on the structure, completely unsuccessful, the monkey finally weakened. The helpers then began to pull out and tighten the ropes and nooses previously buried in the packed earth of the hut. It didn't take much, and the exhausted baboon was completely self-possessed. Despite this, the old hunter did not trust this momentary weakness and did not allow anyone to enter the hut. Instead, using ropes, the men tied the captured villain immobile to a fist sticking out between the posts outside the hut… and over that fist they threw another noose, with its terrible, murderous teeth.
Now the African began to carry out his plan. He brought with him a can of the brightest “fiery” red paint. And with this paint he painted the baboon's muzzle protruding between the bars. The red spot glowed like fire when it arrived. The baboons of this troop were actually gray and grey. There are no peacock decorations on his muzzle. And even those with decorations were never blood red.
The paint dried overnight. Before dawn, the ranger sent the others to the village, and he began to cut and untie the monkey. When he was practically free, he climbed onto the roof with a rifle and a machete. Then he opened the door.
For a long time the baboon did not move and breathed another trick. However, suddenly he shot like an arrow to the nearest bushes. After a while, a characteristic barking sound was heard in the whole area, the herd recognized its leader and happily gathered at the edge of the forest. They saw him approach quickly. But what is it? The voice is undoubtedly their leader, and the red-haired monster is approaching. They did not last long. Panicked by this inexplicable phenomenon, they scattered and fled for a long time. Exhausted, he tied his head again, they heard the familiar barking again. Of course, they were happy because, unfortunately, their memory is weak, but the voice of their leader was engraved on them forever. After a while, they noticed that a red creature jumped out of the bushes and began to run away again in panic.
This seems to have been going on for several years. Attracted by the familiar voice, they stop, but as soon as they make eye contact, they run to where the pepper is growing.
There are some, but who will believe them that they recently saw a crazy troop of baboons running away from a strange red baboon in Morocco. This is undoubtedly nonsense.
*****
Can this idea be implemented against our baboons – thieves? Perhaps it is possible, but unfortunately you have to use another paint. Because their knuckles have been red for a long time.
.