Strat wrote:We already have one McP, knock it off.
Long ago, in the rich and beautiful valleys that line the Asagiri plateau, there was a small village of dairy farmers and hunters. They lived a peaceful life, and were blessed by most anybody's standards. They were also a very capable people. At the far northern end of this village, some of the townspeople had even built a large plaster-coated wall that reached as high as any nearby tree. They'd made it very tall, and they had painted it white all over, with paint so thick that you could no longer see the textures of the plaster.
Every evening, when all of the chores were completed, the villagers would gather together to stand and stare at their wall. They would huddle together there, just watching it, and whisper to each other in hushed tones until the dusk faded into night.
One day, one of the villagers happened to turn his head from the wall, and he looked to the west instead. There, he saw the neon sky-streaking colors of a vibrant, gorgeous sunset!
"My friends!" he cried out. "Turn your heads! Look and see what I have found!"
"Leave us alone," one of them whispered irritably. "Can't you see we're staring at the wall?"
"Yes," said another. "Why do you yell at us like that? We see the wall every eve. Why should we expect to see more?"
"Please!" he cried out. "To the west there is something far more spectacular! Please, I beg of you! For just this one minute, turn your heads, and you will see what I have seen!"
"What's the matter with you," an old woman snapped. "Doesn't staring at the plain white wall please you? Are your expectations now too high?"
"I used to think it pleased me," he admitted slowly. "But now that I have seen this other thing, I don't think that it ever could again!"
"He doesn't like the wall?" another voice scoffed. "Then it is obvious that nothing makes him happy!"
"Yes," cried another. "Clearly he is a snob, if our plain white wall is no longer enough to command his permanent attention."
The man was confused. The sunset was dipping low on the horizon, casting rich textured colors on the slopes of Mount Fuji, and he feared that soon it would be too late for the villagers to see what he had seen.
He opened his mouth, about to argue further, but at just that moment a very wise and very old duck flew into the village.
"Do not worry, my friend," the duck told the villager. "I am a talking fucking duck, and I have seen the world from the heavens. These people do not hear your words, and they will not hear them in the future. Come with me, and we will go get stupid amounts of drunk. While we are gone, the gods will surely punish these villagers with a lifetime of plain white walls and music by the Dave Matthews Band."
Then the duck shook his feathers, turned to fly away, and gestured to the man to join him. "You don't want to be here when that happens," he said.
