Once upon a time in Africa, there was a district of Wildebeests run under the administration of a pride of hungry lions. You can imagine what a regular day was like for a wildebeest in that district. You graze and mate and breed in volumes. And sometimes you get eaten by the lions. One day, a group of wiser wildebeests said that it’s about time they started running things on their own. They said this at the most opportune moment: A female wildebeest had just lost her baby to a hungry lioness, while everybody just stood staring in terrified paralysis. It helped knowing, too, that the administrative pride was breaking apart: The head lion was getting too old, too fat, too maneless and too hyperbloodpressurized to control his lionesses. That night, the wildebeests “coup de tat”-ed the lions, kicked all them out of the district, took over the administrative office, and started running things on their own. Free from the free floating anxiety of being eaten by a lion. And lady liberty couldn’t have been more pleased. Or was she? Because that was when wildebeest hell broke loose. You see, it has been noticed that subjects of torment behave exactly like how their tormentors were. But wildebeests aren’t carnivorous, so they didn’t eat each other. They were just worse.- In the absence of lions, there were more wildebeests than grass, so resources had to be controlled. - A mama wildebeest would have to pay with her own milk to graze on a certain spot in the district.- Older wildebeest can keep the right to graze by voluntarily offering themselves cultivate the grass. - The younger wildebeests were subject into Wildetary Training, because in the absence of fear, they grew deviant and bored and destructive.- And it goes without saying that the administrative wildebeests corrupted their absolute powers absolutely. Within a decade from the fall of the lions, the district fell off the circle of life: It went bankrupt. Moral of the story? A bad lion is better than no lion at all.