A THIN REED

I went to see the new Michael Moore flic, Fahrenheit 11/9,with my thoughtful, educated, erudite, historian pal S...
My mood of gloom, depression and futility was NOT lifted by the Moore's plangent recitation of the mistakes and missteps that culminated in the horror of 11/9/16 and subsequently. I remarked, as I am wont to do in such circumstances, that "We Are SO fucked."
S.. remonstrated with me, however, making the (relatively obvious) point that we cannot predict the future: Something MIGHT change. He found hopeful the ambitions of the Parkland survivor kids, for example.
Recalling the hopes of 1971, when 18-yr-olds were given the vote, and McGovern's catastrophic defeat, even though there was still a horrific war going on, I said: "That's a pretty thin reed..."
But I was reminded by his remark of a parable/allegory I used to repeat to my students about the fragility of hope:
In a far-off land, many centuries ago, there was a powerful Emir who employed a Mage to do such things that Mage's do. His skill was such that he soon won the love and trust of his master. But, in the ways of such things, one night the Mage was apprehended sneaking OUT of the seraglio, and was hauled before the Emir, who pronounced the sentence: The Mage might choose his own means of demise.
But the Mage, a clever fellow almost by definition, offered the Emir a bargain: "Sire, I know you esteem your war-horse above all others. What if I were to teach your magnificent charger to talk? Give me a year, and then, if I should fail, you may do with me as you will. But if I succeed, you grant my freedom."
The Emir was amused by the proposition, and AGREED.
When he had left the Presence, the Mage's acolytes all clustered about him in confusion. "You CANNOT teach the horse to talk. You're insane!"
But the Mage said: "I have a year. In a year, the Emir may die. Or I may die. Or the horse may die.
"Or the horse may talk."