User:DragonflySixtyseven/Allegories

Allegory on blocking
(originally posted here, by me, on 5 December 2011)

(...) one point which many individuals do not factor into consideration is that Wikipedia is not just a collaborative encyclopedia, it is a collaborative encyclopedia. This may seem like a truism, but it is not; without the collaboration, the multiple otherwise-disconnected individuals working together towards a common goal, there is no encyclopedia.

One day,, I will die. One day, will die. One day, you will die. One day, will die. One day, the last person who had any awareness of this dispute will die, and the last person to have any awareness of that person will one day die too. The disputes are nothing. They are grit and clashing in the gears, horrible grinding noises and flashing sparks that draw attention but inexorably wear away at the teeth, until such time as the wheels to which those teeth belong are too damaged to continue participating in la grande engrenage. Sometimes an engineer must remove an individual gear from its place because it is causing too much conflict with other gears -- perhaps it is turning in the wrong direction, or perhaps it has insufficient lubrication to allow proper meshing, or perhaps it has already broken and is spitting off splinters of metal in all directions and damaging other gears... the allegory is deeply flawed, as are all allegories, but I presume my overall point is understandable.

Allegory on sockpuppets and deletion
(originally posted here, by me, on 18 February 2012, as a direct response to a statement made by user:Collect.

First, Collect said: "2012 Aesop's Fable:

A Fox of horrid moral fibre was a very good artist - but because of his character was determined to be properly and totally shunned by all the other animals of the forest. Still, he continued to secretly paint, and his portraits of Owl and Robin were so good, although signed with the name "Gnarph", that the Museum of the Forest placed the works in the Grand Gallery. One day, though, the Mouse found out that the "Gnarph" works were actually painted by Fox, and so Mouse went to the Grand Gallery, removed the paintings and had a wonderful bonfire.

The question remaining is (this is 2012, so there is no "moral"):

Is the forest better off by maintaining the proper shunning and destroying the paintings, or is it better off by keeping the art in the museum?"

and then I said:)

Ooh, a fable! Let me try!

An artistic Fox had such horrid moral fibre that he killed not just to feed himself, but to take pleasure in the suffering and death of others. He poisoned, he set fires, he planted explosives, and he made beautiful paintings. Other artistic animals became reluctant to contribute to the Museum of the Forest, because they were afraid that Fox would destroy them if he became aware of their work alongside his. The Museum directors told Fox to stop his evil and bloodshed, but Fox just laughed: "I make such beautiful paintings," he said, "that I can get away with anything! You will never interfere with such a talented artist as me!"

The Museum directors disagreed, however, and made an edict forbidding Fox to ever again submit paintings to the Grand Gallery. Fox laughed as he skinned Squirrel's babies, and said he did not need the Museum anyway, and that he had been foolish to be an artist because only fools made art. The next week, however, Fox began bragging that the Museum had not really exiled him, and that he was still submitting new paintings for the Grand Gallery. "Their rules mean nothing, for I am Fox and I do what I want!", he sneered, and other animals fled the Museum in fear. The Museum directors examined the newest paintings, and discovered that they had accepted several paintings signed by "Xof".

The directors passed a new edict, forbidding "Xof" from ever again submitting paintings. Fox laughed from his murder house, and said that the Museum was a colossal waste of his time; the next week, he pointed out that there were several new paintings by "Phocs", and besides the Museum obviously valued his work because the works of "Xof" were still on display. "Clearly", he said, "I have not really been exiled! The Museum still loves me! They need me, the pathetic fools! I am the best artist ever, and I can do anything I want, with no consequences! I need never apologize for anything I have done, and I will keep doing it! The Museum will never truly punish me, because they fear that I will stop contributing my beautiful beautiful paintings!"

As word of Fox's reign of terror spread, fewer and fewer other artists dared submit their paintings; some gave up on art entirely. The directors passed a new edict, forbidding "Phocs" from ever again submitting paintings. Fox laughed, and said that he hoped the Museum and all its art would be destroyed by a mighty earthquake. The next week, the Museum directors found that a beautiful new painting by "Renard" was entitled "portrait of the artist as he poisons a village's only well".

The Museum directors passed a new edict exiling "Renard" from the Museum, but Fox just laughed. "Your edicts are a farce and you are all weak! No one should contribute to your museum because you cannot protect them from madmen and killers! I shall return, and return, and return, under a hundred hundred different names, and you shall never dare to act against me," Fox said as he garrotted Woodchuck, "because my art is so beautiful! To see my art is to love my art, and to love my art is to love my deeds!"

The Museum directors passed a new edict, stating that henceforth, all paintings done by Fox, under any name, would be removed from public display and locked in a storeroom where no visitors were allowed. Fox was horrified. "Are you all mad?!?", he shrieked as the paintings were moved into the storeroom. "You are destroying my works of art! You are destroying my beautiful beautiful art! You cannot do this! People need to see my art! My art must be seen! You are destroying my art! You are slashing the canvas from the frames and burning it in a bonfire and relieving yourselves on the ashes! You fools! You hate art! You hate art, and you hate life! You are hateful and uncaring and you delight in causing pain! I shall never return to this cesspool of lunacy and evil, and no artists worthy of the name should ever contribute their work to this Museum of shame and horror!"

Fox spent the rest of his years alternately inflicting pain on others, belittling and denouncing the Museum to all who would listen, and painting dozens of exquisite cameo portraits. Periodically, he gained entrance to the Museum under false names, and added his portraits to the Grand Gallery. He would laugh and gloat about how much the Museum needed him when his works went undetected, and work himself into a frenzied rage of bloodlust and hatred whenever his works were moved into storage.

There is no moral to this story.