Pitiful, little, ants...
Do you ever think about ants? You know, the little creatures that walk in a straight line and love sweets. Those kinds of ants! There are lots of different types! Red ones, blue ones, black ones, white ones, my friend Fluttershy could tell you all about them. Oh, I'm sure she could go on and on for hours about the little devils. I don't blame her. They're fascinating, and such industrious little fellows. So busy, busy busy. Always working so very very hard, like there's some higher purpose to their endless struggle. Some great and glorious reward for their eternity of toil. They work so very very hard without noticing life is passing them by, and it's really quite the pity.
We think very, very little of them. And that's fine, because ants are very little. Heh. And as interesting as they are, imagine if an ant could talk! Imagine it walked right up to you and struck up a conversation! Ha! My goodness, just think about the things you'd discuss. I'm sure he'd tell you alllllll about his worthless little ant life. You'd nod and smile and listen politely, but deep down, you know absolutely nothing this ant does can ever impact your life in anyway. It's just an ant. A worthless little ant. Digging and burrowing. Gathering food. All for the good of the colony. So very noble and so very boring. Of course you could stomp this tiny ant out of existence if you wanted. It wouldn't bother you at all. Would it? Would you lay awake at night, unable to sleep? Would you hold a candle-lit vigil for an ant? No, it's simply an ant. They're a dime a dozen. You wouldn't give it a second thought.
A worthless little ant. You don't go out of your way to crush an ant on the sidewalk. Thats pointless. You go on with your daily life, doing the things you normally do. When suddenly, you wake up to find the ants don't like your spells anymore and have forbidden you from casting them!
But you LIKE those spells...What right do ANTS have to make up laws? Worthless...pathetic...little ants. Crushable, pointless, expendable little ants. How much effort, do you think it would take to crush an ant hill? Do you think it's worth it if they keep bothering you? Do you think I should share my home with these worthless little ants that crawled in from nowhere?! Would you tolerate such an infestation?!
So I do would you would do. I took steps. I removed the ants from my home. Can you blame me? They were an infestation, and they started creating rules and laws telling me what I COULD AND COULD NOT DO IN MY OWN REALM!
Busy little ants. Busy busy busy. Working so hard, not noticing life going by. I took pity on these insignificant ants in my home. I took pity on them, oh yes, and I-
Well, I killed two birds with one stone. I put them in their place. I reminded them that they're, just, ants.
Crushable.
Meaningless.
Ants.
How badly would you feel if you stomped on a few ants right outside of an ant hill. You'd shrug. There are dozens more. You wouldn't even need to destroy the whole anthill. Just crush a few of them. So I did just that. The other ants took notice. Oh, goodness, yes. They did. They got together in their little ant homes and passed little ant laws forbidding me from using MY gifts and abilities.
You see, ants are elements of order. They're rigid with their rules and laws, straight lines and perfect order. They all march in a straight line. They could go in any direction they choose, but they all march in a straight line, all tumbling towards that same cliff. And yet they still march in a line. March, march, march. Line, line, line Blindly following rules that aren't there. You see? Ants. Are. Stupid.
It's all pointless, but they're ants. They're dumb and boring. They march along, working endlessly. They can't enjoy anything. They're too busy pretending there are rules and order, walking in a straight line when they could go anywhere they choose. Ants are completely oblivious to the world around them. I do what I do, because crushing a few measly ants doesn't bother me. And if the rest of them wake up and realize it, then I'm making the world a better place. I'm doing po- ants, a service. I'm sending a message. I'm not a bad guy. I'm just the messenger, and the message is reminding the ants that their place is under my feet. Ants should be grateful for their tiny miserable ant lives and they should cherish them. I'm going to help them do that.
Do you think an ant knows what it's like to be encased in stone? To be cut off from EVERYTHING that made you what you are, that is your birthright? Do you think ants know how GOOD they have it at any given moment!? After all you could burn the ant hill to the ground. There are hundreds of ways it could be destroyed. All you have to do is pick. But instead, you choose to help these ants out of pity.
These ants work so hard. Busy busy busy. They never stop to take the time to smell the roses and enjoy the pure chaos of life itself. I help with that. Thats why I do the things I do. I help them understand the only way I know how. After all, you wouldn't expect an artist to write a ballad, would you? A bard to paint a mural? A chef to write a book? I work with what I have, and all I have is chaos.