The temple was in need of an additional developer, and two
potential initiates had applied for the position. Java
master Banzen sent a monk to interview them.
“They were equally qualified on all counts,” reported the
monk that evening. “Of identical age, weight, bearing,
grooming, proficiency with the sword, and preference of
caffeinated beverage. So I posed the same logic problem to
both candidates. One failed to solve it; the other
succeeded.”
Java master Banzen said: “Take me to the rooms where they
were interviewed.”
They first came to the room of the failed candidate, whose
working of the problem still lay on the whiteboard in jade
green marker. Painfully neat figures marched across the
board in precise rows and columns. Java master Banzen
quickly found the error in the candidate’s reasoning.
Said the Java master: “Here is a grove of pea-vines,
struggling to break through the winter snow. If we nurture
them we shall dine well in spring.”
They next came to the room of the successful candidate. Here
also the critical problem had been worked in green marker,
but in this room it sprawled across the board with no
discernable order. Hasty scribblings wound over and around
and even right through each other—a dense tangle of
gibberish.
The Java master shook his head. “Here you tell me there is
fresh dill and lemon-grass, but I would never find them for
all the weeds.”
