I am the ruler of Acirema, a country much like America, but it is a dictatorship (kind of like America). I am the dictator. I have decreed that all those people who are able to make clay pots, must be made to make clay pots whether they want to or not. Even they get a little clay on their hands while foolishly gardening without work gloves, they must then make and bake a clay pot. Then, my people come to me and say, "Your highness, what are we to do with all these clay pots? They are taking up room where our crops and livestock should be. Our children have no new clothes or food because the clay pots are taking up all the room. What are you going to do about all these clay pots?" And I say, "I didn't make the clay pots. Talk to the idiots who made the clay pots. They are the ones responsible for the over run of clay pots." Then, the people revolt, make making clay pots a choice and stick my decapitated head on a pike at the new clay pot incinerator.