The Log That Lobbied

A cautionary fable about shortcut laws, smooth-talking logs, and the roots of real fairness.

Forest Moss (c) 2025

In Pinepaw Market's bustling square,

A fallen log lay smooth and bare.

It once was wood—but now it spoke,

In whispers thick with oily smoke.

"You look quite tired," the Log would say,

"Why haul all that law the hard old way?

If you’d just lean here, I’ll roll you through—

And smooth the bumps in laws for you."

The Buzzards heard and flapped in close:

"We *do* get sore! This path’s verbose.

Let’s rest our wings—just once or twice.

What harm in tips and treats and rice?"

The Log provided shade and snacks,

And rolled out scrolls with comfy facts.

"If you propose these logs instead,

I’ll make your nests feel ten times fed."

So bills were passed that no one read,

With timber traded, old truths shed.

The forest shifted, roots grew thin—

While forest folk looked caved within.

Lantern blinked from deep below:

"This law smells off. This path feels slow.

Why do the rules serve bark and sheen—

But not the roots we’ve rarely seen?"

Crabbie squawked, "Let’s follow back—

Each clause, each tweak, each loop-hole track!"

They traced the ink, the twist, the trick—

And found the log beneath it quick.

Maple flew from field to bluff:

"Enough of whisper deals and fluff!

Laws should rise from forest need—

Not just the logs that roll with greed."

The Buzzards blinked and looked around,

No critters clapped. No praise, no sound.

So off they flew, their papers curled—

The log now still. The truth unfurled.

Now laws are read by lantern’s light,

With roots in view and truths held tight.

And if a log rolls in again,

They check the grain, then ask, "Who benefits, friend?"

✍️ Why I Wrote This

I wrote this fable to teach a lesson that’s easy to forget—even in the forest: laws should protect the roots, not just polish the bark.

In the bustling square of Pinepaw Market, I imagined a smooth log—once just wood, now a symbol of comfort, convenience, and quiet corruption. It doesn’t shout. It whispers. It offers shortcuts. And slowly, quietly, it begins to rewrite the rules to serve itself.

This fable was inspired by the way modern legislation can be shaped behind closed doors, often wrapped in comfort, convenience, or "economic efficiency." I’ve seen how laws that no one reads can still change everything—tilting power away from people and toward profit. The whispering log represents that danger: a false ease that erodes transparency and hollows out the public good.

The Buzzards, tempted by free snacks and smooth words, forget their duty. But characters like Lantern the Beetle, Crabbie the Crow, and Maple the Goose remind us that true lawmaking takes work—questioning, tracing, reading, and rooting out who benefits.

This story is for kids growing up in a world where some deals are whispered and others shouted, where not all laws are made in the open, and where asking “who gains?” isn’t rude—it’s responsible.

I wrote it because democracy deserves lantern light, even in the quiet corners.

—Ross Boulton