The King’s wise men were summoned to Court to cross examine Nasrudin. This was a very grave case. The Mullah had admitted going around the country exclaiming “The Court’s “wise men” are ignorant, indecisive and confused.” He was charged with undermining state security under new legislation designed to protect the state against foreigners planning terror.
Speak first, said the King to Nasrudin “Bring me pens and paper,” said the Mullah The pens and paper were brought. Give them to each of the first seven wise men. They were handed out. “Have them each separately write an answer to this question: “What is bread?” This was done.
The papers were given to the King who read them out loud. The first said, “Bread is a food.” The second said, “Bread is flour and water.” The third said, “Bread is a gift from God.” The fourth said “Bread is baked dough” The fifth said, “That depends on what you mean by “bread”.” The sixth said, “Bread is a nutritious substance.” The seventh said “No-one really knows.”
“Once they are able to decide what bread is,” said the Mullah, “then they can decide on other things, for example whether I am right or I am wrong. Can you entrust serious matters of judgement to men such as these? Is it not strange that they cannot agree on something that we eat every day, yet they are unanimous that I am a terrorist?”
Sometimes taking a team member outside the role in which they are most comfortable falls flat on its face.
The German French horn player, Bruno Jaenicke (1887-1946), was, for many years, the principal hornist of the New York Philharmonic and a truly great one. He can be heard on many of Toscanini’s recordings. He rarely missed a note and was held in very high regard by the profession. In November 1931, at a concert with the guest conductor, Erich Kleiber, Jaenicke was booked to play Strauss’ first horn concerto. Standing in front of the orchestra, he was completely unnerved, fumbled, missed notes and sounded like an amateur. After the first two movements, he walked off stage and didn’t return. It was announced to the audience that Jaenicke was unwell and that the piece would be dropped from the programme. Backstage, Jaenicke was seen smashing his horn by jumping on it and later reportedly got blindingly drunk. It was at least a week before Jaenicke reappeared. He returned to the section with no explanations and resumed his career as America’s finest horn player.
The marketer at CeBit from twenty paces away spotted that Nasrudin had money to spend. As the Mullah approached the booth, the marketer said to him, “You look like a discerning gentleman. Would you like this magic nosebag?” “What does it do?” “Watch,” and from the bag, the marketer first drew out an iPhone, then a Wii, and finally a sat nav. Nasrudin immediately forked over cash. “Just one little thing,” said the marketer. “These bags are rather sensitive, so don’t annoy it. Don’t let on to others too much about it and all will be well.”
Tired and hungry from walking around the huge exhibition, Nasrudin headed to the train station with the bag. On the train he said, “Magic bag, give me a fresh warm giant pretzel.” He put his hand in the bag. It was empty. “Perhaps it only gives out portable electronic devices because it is sensitive,” he thought to himself. “Magic bag, give me a Bose SoundDock.” Nada. “Please don’t be annoyed with me, I just don’t understand you,” he said. Then Nasrudin remembered that when his donkey was annoyed, he bought it a new nosebag, so when he got home, he saddled his donkey, rode to his local dealer and bought a donkey for his new nosebag. “Nasrudin what you doing with two donkeys?” shouted an acquaintance. “You don’t understand, my friend,” replied the Mullah. “It is not two donkeys. It is one donkey and his nosebag and one nosebag and his donkey.”