I don’t remember this parable but hey.
“This guy lived in a tent beside a bush.”
“Okay. Tent-bush. Got it.”
“Only the guy is allergic to the bush.”
“Is the bush flowering?”
“Stop dicking me around. Just take it that I am telling you everything relevant. So the guy is allergic to the bush and wakes up every morning covered in hives. So he starts taking pills to get rid of the hives. Every night a fistful of pills. These are big horse pills, so it’s a pain.”
“Okay. I’m seeing it.”
“After a while the pills aren’t so effective anymore so he’s gotta cover himself in lotion before bed. The stuff gets all over the sheets and stinks.”
“Am I the guy? Just tell me that much.”
“So its pills and lotion and eventually an injection once a week. This bush is ruining the guy’s life. So one day the guy talks to his good-looking, lady-killer friend who lives across the ocean. And he tells him all about the bush and the pills and rest of his increasingly complicated regimen.”
“What does the friend say?”
“First of all the friend calls him a tool, but then he tells the guy that he has two choices. Either he burns that bush right down to the roots”
“Or?”
“Or he moves far away from that bush, where its pollen can never reach him again.”
It was all a bit cryptic for my feeble mind.
“This guy lived in a tent beside a bush.”
“Okay. Tent-bush. Got it.”
“Only the guy is allergic to the bush.”
“Is the bush flowering?”
“Stop dicking me around. Just take it that I am telling you everything relevant. So the guy is allergic to the bush and wakes up every morning covered in hives. So he starts taking pills to get rid of the hives. Every night a fistful of pills. These are big horse pills, so it’s a pain.”
“Okay. I’m seeing it.”
“After a while the pills aren’t so effective anymore so he’s gotta cover himself in lotion before bed. The stuff gets all over the sheets and stinks.”
“Am I the guy? Just tell me that much.”
“So its pills and lotion and eventually an injection once a week. This bush is ruining the guy’s life. So one day the guy talks to his good-looking, lady-killer friend who lives across the ocean. And he tells him all about the bush and the pills and rest of his increasingly complicated regimen.”
“What does the friend say?”
“First of all the friend calls him a tool, but then he tells the guy that he has two choices. Either he burns that bush right down to the roots”
“Or?”
“Or he moves far away from that bush, where its pollen can never reach him again.”
It was all a bit cryptic for my feeble mind.
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