The zebra

There was a zebra who had always wondered:
Was he a black horse with white stripes,
or a white horse with black stripes?

This little zebra traversed the world, looking for a wise man who would give him the answer. Eventually he came to Timbuktu, where everyone told him he would find the answer.

He was directed to the famous wise man, who knew the answer to everything.

With his heart in his mouth, he asked the question:
"O Wise man, am i a black horse with white stripes,
or a white horse with black stripes?"

The wise man replied slowly, his eyes closed.

"You are what you are." Then he said no more.

The zebra was ushered out before he could ask more. Now suitably flummoxed, he asked the assistant why he did not receive an answer, since the wise man knew everything.

The assistant insisted the answer had been given.

The zebra asked: "So am I a black horse with white stripes,
or a white horse with black stripes?"

"That's simple," the assistant replied. "You're a white horse with black stripes."

"How do you know?" the zebra inquired.

"Well, if you were a black horse with white stripes, he would've said, 'You is what you is.' "