See if you can get through this poorly constructed metaphor: A man has but one task, to climb the hill. He struggles and struggles to climb the rock face. At some point he may choose a climbing companion, someone to watch his ropes and to have his back. It's not long before the man realizes that he us surrounded by thousands, perhaps millions, of faceless people, all throwing stones, tearing at his path, his ropes, his handholds, everything. More often than not, his climbing companion decides to chuck it all in and cuts his life life...seems there us always a better climber one hill over. The man realizes that his struggles seem meaningless and turns to his creator...who tells him to keep climbing. And what's at the top? I'm not sure I care anymore what's at the top. I'm tired of climbing this rock...