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Keeping the alliance properly aligned Once Upon a NATOBy Rick Horowitz The Nineteen-Legged Balks-a-Lot agreed to have a war. It wasn't quite glad to. It knew that it had to. Wasn't this precisely what a Nineteen-Legged Balks-a-Lot was for? "What a peculiar beast!" people marveled as it passed. "It's unusual, to say the least -- can it travel very fast?" The Nineteen-Legged Balks-a-Lot smiled a placid smile. Who needs speed? It had power. "This won't take an hour." The Nineteen-Legged Balks-a-Lot marched off to join the fray. Some legs marched right. Some legs marched left. Some legs marched every which way. "Lemme at 'em!" "Hold me back!" "We're going there to win!" They marched and marched and marched some more. And wound up exactly where they'd been. (Exactly where they'd been.) "No need to be downhearted. We are merely getting started." The Nineteen-Legged Balks-a-Lot set off again at day. "I wonder," said a leg in back, "if we might have a slight delay." All the other legs stopped walking. The leg in back continued talking. "I have no doubt our cause is just. I'm perfectly prepared to fight -- if we must." "Of course we must!" the others cried. "Think of all the ones who've died." "Let's save the world!" "Let's do it now!" But how? Some legs tried to flap their wings and do it from the sky. Other legs laced up their boots. "Stop flitting around," they said. "Put troops on the ground," they said. "Why not a pause?" said one. "But why?" "Just because," said one. "What is our role?" said one. "Let's take a poll!" said one. "You know what we need?" said one. "Someone who'll lead," said one. "Don't look at me!" A Nineteen-Legged Balks-a-Lot talks a lot. And squawks a lot. It grumbles. And it stumbles. It has a list of goals so long it's hard to get to any. A Nineteen-Legged Balks-a-Lot is eighteen legs too many. Posted
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