OK, let’s not waste too much time!
First example.
When I was younger I used to watch many movies in which the good guy fights the bad guy for about 10-15 minutes before the movie ends. There's a pattern in the flow, which goes like this: good guy finds bad guy after having beaten everybody else in the bad guy's gang; the bad guy consistently beats the crap out of the good guy for a while; the good guy suddenly remembers the bad guy did something evil to his little sister, mistreated his family or did something nasty to the entire village (rarely did good guys come from big cities) some time ago. Based on that flashback, he suddenly becomes even more motivated and defeats the bad guy easily. There's more to say about this, but maybe some other time.
Here's another example (second example, if you're one of those people that like to keep track of such things).
When I was even younger, I used to be a pirate. Not like the ones that download music on the internet, but a proper one (well, almost; explanation below). This was hundreds of years ago, when internet connectivity was not that good, on account of not having been invented yet. To put things in perspective, it was even worse (not by much, though) than it is today in less civilized parts of the world. For instance, the area between Canada and the United Mexican States. Being an almost proper pirate meant I was sailing and searching for treasures, but I hadn't lost a leg or an arm, mainly because I find them more convenient and ergonomic than using a hook or a stump. Also, my vision was quite good back then, and my eyes were unobstructed by any patches, which can be inconvenient when trying to spot remote islands or competing/ enemy ships lurking just below the horizon. Also, patches are not easy to keep dry while sailing the rough seas. Ironically, patches are quite relevant today in the age of the modern internet and people trying to quit smoking. Those are different patches, though (I suppose you could still use a nicotine patch over your eye to kill two birds with one stone -looking like a pirate and quitting smoking, in case you got confused- but I am not certain about the effectiveness for the latter scenario). One more thing before we go back to the current example. Yes, yes, the second example; that's very good, very good indeed. You should reward your distributive attention with a cookie or a piece of candy. I don't find it easy at all to kill one bird with one stone, let alone two; either task is complicated enough to render the comparison pointless. It's a misleading trope. And stones are not that hard to find, are they? And what idiot likes to kill birds with stones, anyway?
So: I was a pirate, but I had all my limbs, didn't wear stupid clothes and didn't have a parrot talking gibberish on my shoulder. I used to find practical waterproof clothes more important than fashionably tacky black and white garment, with buckles, ruffles and bird droppings on the shoulder. No matter how cute talking parrots are, you get fed up with them after a while and are tempted to kill them with a stone.
Besides due customs or random conflicts with authorities, locals or other sailors, we'd often set sail towards remote islands where treasures were to be found. In those days it was not uncommon to find mysterious maps, which could be found in bottles on the shore or in the basement of taverns. A mysterious map should contain at least 3 of the following elements in order to be credible: a forest or at least a clump of palm trees, dotted lines starting from the trees or from a rock in the shape of a skull, a cross encompassed by a circle with rich ornaments and a big N indicating the North, the tropic of Capricorn (usually the island is below it on the map, treasure islands above it, let alone the Northern hemisphere, are rather scarce), a big X pointing to the treasure and some warning of hidden dangers lurking ahead. Also, a small lake or waterfall are not uncommon.
Once we got the map (I wouldn't go alone, I'm not very fond of waters deeper than my height), we'd face many dangers such as fights with other pirate ships (but only during storms, you never witness a fight in fine weather), over-tanning, boredom and other things which I cannot remember so I'll label them as miscellanea. Women were not allowed on the ships back then, as they were considered bad luck and the sailing feminist community was not that developed in order to come up with relevant protests. One major downside of this (besides being in the company of superstitious people) was that nobody could ask for directions when we got lost. Fortunately, fights or riots were a reliable sign you were near your destination, as most of them broke out very soon before someone on the mast would yell "Laaaaand!" Once we'd get on the land we'd go through other perilous adventures such as cannibals, poisonous insects, running out of water or food or someone from the crew running away with the map to get the entire treasure for themselves. More than often we'd find the traitor dead in horrible conditions, hanging from a tree or behind some bushes that someone would happen to go to in order to look for berries (or so they'd say). Finding their bodies was preceded by the camera zooming on the area and ominous music. And followed by cheers of people whose belief in karma was reinforced (although it wasn't known as karma back then), which was right up their superstitious alley. If there's a cave on the island, the treasure is always buried there (unfortunately, this pattern was noticed after many hours of digging in the wrong places). If there's no such cave, it's in the sand or under some scary ancient statue covered in ferns. Either way, as a rule, it's always in the furthest place from where you've parked the ship (or dropped anchor, for those more accustomed to pirate parlance).
After the tedious cruise and dangerous trip -tired, hungry and thirsty- we'd usually find the spot where the treasure was buried. Another piece of menacing music was sign we were in the right place. At this point we'd notice we either forgot or lost the shovel (digging in the sand with a knife only works in movies), and since everyone was too exhausted to get back to the ship to get another one, we'd just pack and go back home.
Well, I'm convinced at this point the conclusion of these strikingly similar examples is already quite obvious, but there you go anyway: some people will do a brilliant job only up to a certain point, while others only can get to do something only after they've been pushed past a certain point (hint: this is from the first example). Either way, everyone can be nice people, no matter how different. And regardless of where they come from and what they do, you could always learn something valuable from someone's life story. So pay attention to all people! You never know when you can exploit their stories for quasi-philosophical purposes.
First example.
When I was younger I used to watch many movies in which the good guy fights the bad guy for about 10-15 minutes before the movie ends. There's a pattern in the flow, which goes like this: good guy finds bad guy after having beaten everybody else in the bad guy's gang; the bad guy consistently beats the crap out of the good guy for a while; the good guy suddenly remembers the bad guy did something evil to his little sister, mistreated his family or did something nasty to the entire village (rarely did good guys come from big cities) some time ago. Based on that flashback, he suddenly becomes even more motivated and defeats the bad guy easily. There's more to say about this, but maybe some other time.
Here's another example (second example, if you're one of those people that like to keep track of such things).
When I was even younger, I used to be a pirate. Not like the ones that download music on the internet, but a proper one (well, almost; explanation below). This was hundreds of years ago, when internet connectivity was not that good, on account of not having been invented yet. To put things in perspective, it was even worse (not by much, though) than it is today in less civilized parts of the world. For instance, the area between Canada and the United Mexican States. Being an almost proper pirate meant I was sailing and searching for treasures, but I hadn't lost a leg or an arm, mainly because I find them more convenient and ergonomic than using a hook or a stump. Also, my vision was quite good back then, and my eyes were unobstructed by any patches, which can be inconvenient when trying to spot remote islands or competing/ enemy ships lurking just below the horizon. Also, patches are not easy to keep dry while sailing the rough seas. Ironically, patches are quite relevant today in the age of the modern internet and people trying to quit smoking. Those are different patches, though (I suppose you could still use a nicotine patch over your eye to kill two birds with one stone -looking like a pirate and quitting smoking, in case you got confused- but I am not certain about the effectiveness for the latter scenario). One more thing before we go back to the current example. Yes, yes, the second example; that's very good, very good indeed. You should reward your distributive attention with a cookie or a piece of candy. I don't find it easy at all to kill one bird with one stone, let alone two; either task is complicated enough to render the comparison pointless. It's a misleading trope. And stones are not that hard to find, are they? And what idiot likes to kill birds with stones, anyway?
So: I was a pirate, but I had all my limbs, didn't wear stupid clothes and didn't have a parrot talking gibberish on my shoulder. I used to find practical waterproof clothes more important than fashionably tacky black and white garment, with buckles, ruffles and bird droppings on the shoulder. No matter how cute talking parrots are, you get fed up with them after a while and are tempted to kill them with a stone.
Besides due customs or random conflicts with authorities, locals or other sailors, we'd often set sail towards remote islands where treasures were to be found. In those days it was not uncommon to find mysterious maps, which could be found in bottles on the shore or in the basement of taverns. A mysterious map should contain at least 3 of the following elements in order to be credible: a forest or at least a clump of palm trees, dotted lines starting from the trees or from a rock in the shape of a skull, a cross encompassed by a circle with rich ornaments and a big N indicating the North, the tropic of Capricorn (usually the island is below it on the map, treasure islands above it, let alone the Northern hemisphere, are rather scarce), a big X pointing to the treasure and some warning of hidden dangers lurking ahead. Also, a small lake or waterfall are not uncommon.
Once we got the map (I wouldn't go alone, I'm not very fond of waters deeper than my height), we'd face many dangers such as fights with other pirate ships (but only during storms, you never witness a fight in fine weather), over-tanning, boredom and other things which I cannot remember so I'll label them as miscellanea. Women were not allowed on the ships back then, as they were considered bad luck and the sailing feminist community was not that developed in order to come up with relevant protests. One major downside of this (besides being in the company of superstitious people) was that nobody could ask for directions when we got lost. Fortunately, fights or riots were a reliable sign you were near your destination, as most of them broke out very soon before someone on the mast would yell "Laaaaand!" Once we'd get on the land we'd go through other perilous adventures such as cannibals, poisonous insects, running out of water or food or someone from the crew running away with the map to get the entire treasure for themselves. More than often we'd find the traitor dead in horrible conditions, hanging from a tree or behind some bushes that someone would happen to go to in order to look for berries (or so they'd say). Finding their bodies was preceded by the camera zooming on the area and ominous music. And followed by cheers of people whose belief in karma was reinforced (although it wasn't known as karma back then), which was right up their superstitious alley. If there's a cave on the island, the treasure is always buried there (unfortunately, this pattern was noticed after many hours of digging in the wrong places). If there's no such cave, it's in the sand or under some scary ancient statue covered in ferns. Either way, as a rule, it's always in the furthest place from where you've parked the ship (or dropped anchor, for those more accustomed to pirate parlance).
After the tedious cruise and dangerous trip -tired, hungry and thirsty- we'd usually find the spot where the treasure was buried. Another piece of menacing music was sign we were in the right place. At this point we'd notice we either forgot or lost the shovel (digging in the sand with a knife only works in movies), and since everyone was too exhausted to get back to the ship to get another one, we'd just pack and go back home.
Well, I'm convinced at this point the conclusion of these strikingly similar examples is already quite obvious, but there you go anyway: some people will do a brilliant job only up to a certain point, while others only can get to do something only after they've been pushed past a certain point (hint: this is from the first example). Either way, everyone can be nice people, no matter how different. And regardless of where they come from and what they do, you could always learn something valuable from someone's life story. So pay attention to all people! You never know when you can exploit their stories for quasi-philosophical purposes.
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