The Fable of Saravimbi Paulina (for John McCain)

The Fable of Saravimbi Paulina Picasso

—for John McCain (by H. Palmer Hall)

A few miles from his small village of Wambiri not far from the Kalahari desert, Johannes Caina had been training in secret an elephant. He succeeded in training her to do a single trick. Unlike most of the elephants he had become acquainted with, he gave her a name: Paulina. He added his own mother’s maiden name and to him, in his deepest heart, she became Saravimbi Paulina. Not one to hold back, though, he added a surname: Picasso. She had only one real trick, but she did that very well. Johannes knew she would make his fortune and he would become a powerful person in his poor African land.

One day Johannes loaded his arms with supplies, prodded Paulina until she knelt on the ground and climbed up to her neck. Together, they began the long trek to a new wild animal theme park where American tourists were said to be abundant. Paulina knelt down at the gates to the reserve and Johannes, coughing from the red dust she had kicked up, hopped off. And then, as a small crowd gathered, he set things up for Paulina’s single trick.

Unloading an enormous mirror, he placed it on the left side of a pair of easels and then positioned a pure white, 3’ by 3’ canvas on the right. By now, a large group, curious about what Johannes was up to with Paulina, had gathered outside the gates. Johannes tickled Paulina’s ears and she trumpeted loudly. All of the gathered people put their hands over their ears, but the loud call had attracted even more people to the gates. The assembled people gaped as Johannes led Paulina to the blank canvas easel and placed a paint brush in her sensitive trunk and a large tin of black paint on the ground.

Paulina swung her head and appeared to be looking in the mirror. Then the audience gasped as she dipped the brush into the tin of paint and drew a black, curved line on the canvas. Eventually, after repeatedly dipping the brush in the paint tin and streaking lines on the canvas, she dropped the brush and stepped back.

All the people gathered around the canvas and applauded loudly when they saw a line drawing in black paint of Saravimbi Paulina Picasso her ownself. The elephant trumpeted again and stepped back to the canvas and drew two crossed lines in the lower right corner. Johannes held the painting above his head and announced loudly that he would sell it to the highest bidder. The American tourists shouted and held their hands up: $100! I'll bid $200! $300! Finally, one of the tourists shouted that he would pay $1,000 for Paulina’s “Self-Portrait in Black and White of an African Elephant.”

Later that year, when he tried to sell the painting in New York, all the wealthy art patrons laughed. She may be able to draw lines after some training, but even as a primitive artist, she has no real talent. He threw the painting in the gutter and walked away.

Johannes? His bubble burst and while he earned some American dollars, never became a truly powerful man. He returned to his village, wealthier, but discontent.

MORAL: You can train even an elephant to repeat things, but that does not mean she’s smart.