If You Don't Like Your Job, You

Close To The Gates A Spacious Garden Lies, From The Storms Defended And Inclement Skies; Four Acres Was The Allotted Space Of Ground, Fenc'd With A Green Enclosure All Around. Tall Thriving Trees Confessed The Fruitful Mold: The Reddening Apple Ripens Here To Gold, Here The Blue Fig With Luscious Juice Overflows, With Deeper Red The Full Pomegranate Glows, The Branch Here Bends Beneath The Weighty Pear, And Verdant Olives Flourish Round The Year.

'yea And I Beheld Sisyphus In Strong Torment, Grasping A Monstrous Stone With Both His Hands. He Was Pressing Thereat With Hands And Feet, And Trying To Roll The Stone Upward Toward The Brow Of The Hill. But Oft As He Was About To Hurl It Over The Top, The Weight Would Drive Him Back, So Once Again To The Plain Rolled The Stone, The Shameless Thing. And He Once More Kept Heaving And Straining, And The Sweat The While Was Pouring Down His Limbs, And The Dust Rose Upwards From His Head.

What Is This Word That Broke Through The Fence Of Your Teeth, Atreides?

Urge Him With Truth To Frame His Fair Replies And Sure He Will For Wisdom Never Lies.

Because They're Stupid, That's Why. That's Why Everybody Does Everything.