Walk the Line
There's this line, you see. And it's big, and bold, and and it stretches out forever because it's a really important line. There are even big warning signs leading up to it, like the ones lining interstate highways, so that you know how close you're getting to the line and so that you don't forget to turn back before it's too late. And when you get right up next to it, there's even flashing neon lights and arrows pointing to the line, just so that there can be no mistaking about which side of the line you're on.
Like I said, it's a very important line.
The thing about this line is that you can't cross it - I mean, ever. I'm not saying it's impossible to cross it - it's just a line, after all - and, indeed, I've watched as others have. It's just a very bad idea to cross the line because doing so imperils just about everything: jobs, friendships, morality, everything! I bet you could find some people who have crossed the line and things turned out just fine, but I also bet you could count those folks on one hand. It's a disaster waiting to happen, crossing the line is.
That's why I've taken precautions. I've built unprecedented defense mechanisms all around the line. Huge, towering walls made of impenetrable steel? Check. Elaborate electronic fail-safes, fuses, and a kill-switch? Yes. Roving pack of starved, wild, bloodthirsty hounds? You bet. All to keep me safe and sound on this side of the line.
But that doesn't mean I won't occasionally tiptoe right up to the line. You know, just to steal a peek at what's on the other side.