The Rats and the Pieces of Cheese

Once, in a time when rats, pieces of cheese, and blog readers all spoke the same language, a bunch of cheese slices really started to hate their lives. You see, every night, for many, many years, a group of rats would come into the kitchen in the night and eat the pieces of cheese. Well, for some (and those some were, typically, rats), this seemed perfectly natural. They would puff out their chests and say, "Well, well, isn't it the nature of competition and the way that the world is? I mean, rats eat cheese, always have, always will. Some have the good fortune to be rats and others? Well, their lot in life is to be the cheese. And, consequently and rightfully, they are to be eaten." And, in the end, everyone thought this was just fine, except for the cheese slices, who were sick and tired of being eaten.

"We need CHANGE" yelled the cheese slices to any market researchers who could hear them. "We are sick of being eaten by rats every night with no say in the matter! We need CHANGE!"

And the market researchers heard the pieces of cheese. So, being market researchers, they crafted a carefully constructed message of change- if the cheese pieces really want it, if the cheese pieces are serious about it, if the cheese pieces really listen, they could even VOTE for change. And, finally (at least according to the carefully constructed, well researched message that the marketing researchers sent the cheese), the cheese pieces would have a say, and the rats would HAVE TO, just HAVE TO stop eating them indiscriminately.

So the cheese pieces banded together and, together, they voted for change. "Now," said the cheese pieces, "No rats can come and eat us without fear of consequence." However, that very night, the rats showed up again and began to eat the cheese, laughing while they did it, causing them to spit little chunks of rat slobber covered cheese all over the counter. The scene was as horrible as before; perhaps, it was even more horrible, because the cheese pieces thought things were going to be different.

"Hey, rats!" screamed the cheese pieces, as they watched in horror as their brothers and sisters and cousins were torn to shreds by filthy rat incisors, "You can't do this! We voted for change!"

"Ha!" laughed the rats. "Just like a stupid piece of cheese, to believe a market researcher!"

And, with that, the rats continued to eat the cheese until their bellies were full and bloated and their intestines became blocked, which didn't really matter, because they were all rich enough to self-pay for their health care and not have to worry about whether their insurance called cheese-impacted colons pre-existing conditions for rats or not.

Moral: No matter how well-crafted a message, the cheese stands alone.