2000 Mythsteries and Other Pithy Shorts #23
Once upon a time, a hippocritic oath was taken by witch doctors when it was determined that any number of them couldn't do the right spell. This vow compared their work to magic and allowed they should always do everything within their power to save lives of any who sought help.
In time, the kings and rulers sought longer life in order to spend the gold woven into their parachutes. Those wielding knives, leeches and needles practiced stewing long life remedies away from plants and herbs.
It came to pass they saved so many lives from birth onward that the populace took on a high number. And those who came to call themselves saviors became accustomed to hiring bean counters to oversee their waxing wealth and to provide means to sew up their own parachute stringing.
Lo! Witch doctors became in such demand they were able to charge exorbitant fees and to support little kingdoms of others until they resembled a great deal those very rulers who set them to finding the secret of eternal life.
Then, because of tontines, insurings and such, those who provided salves and balms grew so busy they no longer had time to stir the pots. They claimed to want to go back to the old days of healing ills.
Soon, they discovered a way to stay not so busy and to make even more wampum. Sick were turned away at the door because the docs picked a few healthiest rich and charged them the same beads as they had charged whole groups the other years. So one wealthy man could pay a huge sum of cash for a practically personal witch instead of the old style of many people having one.
And that's how survival of the richest was launched. Alas, this survival method is little different from the other supremes who tout survival of the whitest.