The abbot Ruh Cheen called young master Zjing on his
monitor for their weekly teleconference.
Ruh Cheen said, “As of today, our monks have completed four
sprints according to my plan: no design documents, no code
reviews, no meddling by the masters. Have you heard the good
news?”
Zjing bowed. “Velocity is at an all-time high, and morale is
better than ever.”
“I plan to inform the Abbess this evening,” said Ruh Cheen.
“After which I will suggest that the entire temple adopt
this practice. But fear not! I’m certain she will find some
new task for the masters to perform.”
Zjing called old master Banzen on her monitor, to report
what had transpired.
Banzen said, “Yesterday Ruh Cheen ordered the monks not to
brush or floss. Today he observed that not a single monk has
lost any teeth. From this he has concluded that oral hygiene
is worthless. I fear that only one thing will change his
mind.”
The young master was aghast. “If I wait for gum disease to
bring a patient to my chair, his mouth may be rotten past my
ability to mend.”
“Yet what is our alternative, young master?” asked Banzen.
“Force everyone to clean their teeth at knife-point?”
“It has worked for us in the past,” said Zjing.
Banzen sighed. “Has it, I wonder? For we do not know which
of our monks are conscientious, and which are merely
cowards. I am old; my knife-hand is unsteady, and I cannot
be everywhere at once. When I depart this earth, I must know
that I leave behind a temple—not a crowd of aimless monks
destined for toothless grins.”
