You walk into a room....
...and in that room, there are billions of people standing on one foot, hopping. You walk through the masses of people, and get to the front. You encounter a little man, sitting behind a desk. The man asks you your name.
After you tell him, the man writes it on a numbered piece of paper, attaches the number to your shirt, and instructs you to begin hopping, like all the others. Out of embarrassment, fear, or something else altogther, you do. You hop and hop and hop, just like everyone else.
About 10 minutes passes, and nothing has changed. You, and the billions of others are still just hopping in place. Feeling slightly awkward, but still somewhat ambitious since you're the new guy, you stop hopping. You approach the little man sitting behind the desk.
"Umm, excuse me sir..."
"Yes, what is it?"
"Uh, this is probably going to sound silly, but why exactly are we all hopping in here? I don't get it."
"I'll tell you later, just go back to hopping for the time being, ok?"
"Yeah... sure thing. I'll do that. Thank you."
"No problem."
You walk back to your space, and resume hopping, all the while maintaining direct eye contact with the little man at the desk. After about 5 more minutes you think to yourself, "this is bizarre, he's not doing anything, why can't he just tell me now?" You stop hopping again, and approach the desk.
"Umm, excuse me. It's me again..."
"Yes, what is it?"
"Uh, this is probably going to sound silly too, but why exactly are we all hopping in here? I still don't get it."
"Just go back to hopping, after a while, you'll begin to love it, ok?"
"Yeah... sure thing. I'll do that. Thank you."
"No problem."
You walk back to your space, and resume hopping, all the while maintaining direct eye contact with the little man at the desk. After about 2 more minutes you think to yourself, "this is bizarre, now that he mentioned it, I do love doing this. But, he still hasn't told me why we're all doing it." You stop hopping again, and approach the desk.
"Umm, excuse me. It's me again..."
"Yes, what is it?"
"Uh, this is probably going to sound like a silly question, but even though I do love hopping, like you said I would, I'd still like to know why exactly we all are hopping in here? I just don't get it. What's the point?"
The man gestures to you, to lean in closer. You lean over the desk, as the little man whispers to you:
"I've never told anyone this before, so you have to promise you won't tell..."
"Yeah... sure thing."
There's a brief pause. The little man whispers ever so quietly to you:
"There is no point. But people don't seem to mind."
You step back, puzzled. "If there is no point to doing this," you think to yourself, "then people are just continuing on with it simply out of personal enjoyment. They're doing this because they like it." You pause in your own thoughts. "That can't be right," you think, "no one would do something pointless, just because it makes them happy." You lean over the desk again.
"Umm, excuse me. It's me one last time."
"Yes, what is it?"
"Uh, this is probably going to sound silly, but I don't think I can go on hopping anymore. I mean, if I know there's no point to it, I can't do it, whether it makes me happy or not."
"I understand, that's why we don't tell the others. The door to leave is over there, you're free to leave any time. I just must warn you, once you leave this room, you can never come back in."
"I understand, thank you."
"No problem."
//
Stay or leave? You decide.
(For those of you not catching the symbolism: in the room is life, outside the room is death. Every second of your life you're choosing one over the other.)
(Sorry if some of the coding is messed up. It's 12:30am, and I'm tired.)
After you tell him, the man writes it on a numbered piece of paper, attaches the number to your shirt, and instructs you to begin hopping, like all the others. Out of embarrassment, fear, or something else altogther, you do. You hop and hop and hop, just like everyone else.
About 10 minutes passes, and nothing has changed. You, and the billions of others are still just hopping in place. Feeling slightly awkward, but still somewhat ambitious since you're the new guy, you stop hopping. You approach the little man sitting behind the desk.
"Umm, excuse me sir..."
"Yes, what is it?"
"Uh, this is probably going to sound silly, but why exactly are we all hopping in here? I don't get it."
"I'll tell you later, just go back to hopping for the time being, ok?"
"Yeah... sure thing. I'll do that. Thank you."
"No problem."
You walk back to your space, and resume hopping, all the while maintaining direct eye contact with the little man at the desk. After about 5 more minutes you think to yourself, "this is bizarre, he's not doing anything, why can't he just tell me now?" You stop hopping again, and approach the desk.
"Umm, excuse me. It's me again..."
"Yes, what is it?"
"Uh, this is probably going to sound silly too, but why exactly are we all hopping in here? I still don't get it."
"Just go back to hopping, after a while, you'll begin to love it, ok?"
"Yeah... sure thing. I'll do that. Thank you."
"No problem."
You walk back to your space, and resume hopping, all the while maintaining direct eye contact with the little man at the desk. After about 2 more minutes you think to yourself, "this is bizarre, now that he mentioned it, I do love doing this. But, he still hasn't told me why we're all doing it." You stop hopping again, and approach the desk.
"Umm, excuse me. It's me again..."
"Yes, what is it?"
"Uh, this is probably going to sound like a silly question, but even though I do love hopping, like you said I would, I'd still like to know why exactly we all are hopping in here? I just don't get it. What's the point?"
The man gestures to you, to lean in closer. You lean over the desk, as the little man whispers to you:
"I've never told anyone this before, so you have to promise you won't tell..."
"Yeah... sure thing."
There's a brief pause. The little man whispers ever so quietly to you:
"There is no point. But people don't seem to mind."
You step back, puzzled. "If there is no point to doing this," you think to yourself, "then people are just continuing on with it simply out of personal enjoyment. They're doing this because they like it." You pause in your own thoughts. "That can't be right," you think, "no one would do something pointless, just because it makes them happy." You lean over the desk again.
"Umm, excuse me. It's me one last time."
"Yes, what is it?"
"Uh, this is probably going to sound silly, but I don't think I can go on hopping anymore. I mean, if I know there's no point to it, I can't do it, whether it makes me happy or not."
"I understand, that's why we don't tell the others. The door to leave is over there, you're free to leave any time. I just must warn you, once you leave this room, you can never come back in."
"I understand, thank you."
"No problem."
//
Stay or leave? You decide.
(For those of you not catching the symbolism: in the room is life, outside the room is death. Every second of your life you're choosing one over the other.)
(Sorry if some of the coding is messed up. It's 12:30am, and I'm tired.)