The monk Wangohan had been given a web application to
develop on his own. For this task he had chosen a promising
new framework, but because it was unfamiliar his initial
implementation was awkward and fragile. For weeks Wangohan
labored to correct the problems, restructuring his code as
his understanding of the framework grew. By release time his
application was elegant beyond compare, and the abbots of
the Spider Clan agreed to allow the new tool in future
projects.
“But first,” said the junior abbot, “we must implement the
fundamental components that the Temple will need, and
provide them to all who would consume this framework.”
To Wangohan’s great dismay, the monk Landhwa was chosen for
this task. Worse yet, Landhwa had no interest in studying
Wangohan’s code, nor in learning from Wangohan the many
particulars of the framework. Instead Landhwa consulted
Wangohan only when he could not be bothered to find the
answer to some simple question on his own.
Finally Wangohan asked the junior abbot of the Spider Clan
why Landhwa was chosen to lead the adoption of the
framework.
“He is skilled with code, his workload was light, and he did
not object to the opportunity,” said the junior abbot
indifferently.
Wangohan bowed and went out.
The next day, master Suku summoned Wangohan to her chamber.
“The junior abbot has been taken ill with stomach cramps of
a most unpleasant nature,” she said. “The cause is unknown,
but I suspect bad cinnamon.”
“It is a common malady,” agreed Wangohan.
“I was going to suggest as much to the junior abbot, but
learned that you had already taken him to the operating
room,” said Suku. “I was unaware that the Temple had an
operating room.”
“It serves primarily as the carpenter’s shed,” said
Wangohan.
“And I presume that the surgeon serves primarily as the
carpenter?”
“Yes,” said Wangohan. “But as I told the junior abbot: he is
skilled with blades, his workload was light, and he did not
object to the opportunity.”
