A man is crawling through the Sahara desert when he is approached by another
man riding on a camel. When the rider gets close enough, the crawling man
whispers through his sun-parched lips, "Water... please... can you give...
water..."
"I'm sorry," replies the man on the camel, "I don't have any water
with me. But I'd be delighted to sell you a necktie."
"Tie?" whispers the man. "I need *water*."
"They're only four dollars apiece."
"I need *water*."
"Okay, okay, say two for seven dollars."
"Please! I need *water*!", says the man.
"I don't have any water, all I have are ties," replies the salesman,
and he heads off into the distance.
The man, losing track of time, crawls for what seems like days.
Finally, nearly dead, sun-blind and with his skin peeling and blistering, he
sees a restaurant in the distance. Summoning the last of his strength he
staggers up to the door and confronts the head waiter.
"Water... can I get... water," the dying man manages to stammer.
"I'm sorry, sir, ties required."
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A man would still do something out of sheer perversity - he would create
destruction and chaos - just to gain his point... and if all this could in
turn be analyzed and prevented by predicting that it would occur, then man
would deliberately go mad to prove his point.
-- Feodor Dostoevsky, "Notes From the Underground"
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