Line

A long time ago, I read a story -- more of a graphic novel, actually -- about the tragic love affair between a circle and a line. At first, it went well, but after a while the circle became a little bored with the line. Desperate, the line, which heretofore had just been there, nothing special, tried to keep the circle's attention, but nothing worked. The circle began looking at other lines -- thicker lines, dotted lines, lines in different colors. The line, now truly panicking, learned to move. It began to dart here and there, forcing itself into different shapes. From being a simple line, it had transformed itself from a directionless force into a vector. And it worked -- the circle came back. They were happy. Proving, once again, that old adage:

To the vector belongs the spoils.

Perhaps that explains why I liked this so much. Or maybe it was the music.