<Theofragen>

Once upon a time there were a bunch of frogs that lived in a great big pot. The frogs decided that it would be best if they divided themselves into groups within the big pot and pretty much keep to themselves. As other frogs hopped by the great big pot, the frogs in the water would invite these hopping passersby to join them for a dip in the water. One day some of the frogs realized that their watery habitation was getting warmer. Some frogs refused to acknowledge this. "The water is not getting warmer," they insisted, "that is just a lie made up by an evil group of frogs to try and keep others from getting in the water with us." As the days passed, fewer and fewer frogs found the water as comfortable as they had remembered it. Many frogs left the ever-warming waters for other, cooler habitats. The frogs that remained croaked even louder trying to get more and more frogs to join them in their watery dwelling.

Things continued like this for many years until only a handful of frogs remained. Those frogs were now relying on their tadpoles to carry on the croaking, to insure that future generations of frogs would not forsake their hallowed pot and its scalding water. In desperation one group of frogs decided to get all of their tadpoles to attend a retreat for young, frog-leaders. They talked about ways to croak convincingly, so other frogs would join the pot. They learned about other boiling pots that needed frog-leaders and ways to get these frogs to call the fledgling tadpoles as their leaders. Many of the young frogs even attended a session with the chief-frog of all the pots. He tried to convince these burgeoning frog-leaders that they should stay in the pot or find another pot if the order of cooking frogs was to continue.

One hippie-frog showed up to this gathering of young, frog-leaders and he didn't look like the others. He didn't wear his froggy-polo shirt and froggy-khakis. Nor did his froggy-hairs look like the others froggy-dews. He spent the weekend trying to convince the other young frogs that the water in the pot was getting hotter and that they would all soon be dead if they didn't get out. Many refused to listen. "The water isn't going to boil," they said. "We just need to learn how to croak better and everything will be fine."

As the retreat drew to a close the head of the young, frog-leaders weekend announced that they needed three new members for a froggy-steering committee to plan future gatherings of young, frog-leaders. Despite his frustration with the weekend, the hippie-frog decided to throw his name into the pot, hoping that he could contribute a different croak to the conversation. A few days passed and the leader of the froggy-steering committee informed the hippie-frog that while his croak was appreciated, the older frogs had urged these younger frogs to stay away from such divisive croakers. They were only looking for "institutionalized" croakers. So how did the hippie-frog respond? He decided to keep croaking; hoping against hope that his colleagues would stay their froggy-asses out of the boiling water. Some frogs will listen and will learn a new language of croaking and will immerse themselves in communities with those who prefer cooler ponds to the boiling pot water. Others will slowly cook and die.

Frogs in a Pot

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