By Aesop

A PRINCE had some Monkeys trained to dance. Being naturally great mimics of men's actions, they showed themselves most apt pupils; and when arrayed in their rich clothes and masks, they danced as well as any of the courtiers. The spectacle was often repeated with great applause, till on one occasion a courtier, bent on mischief, took from his pocket a handful of nuts, and threw them upon the stage. The Monkeys, at the sight of the nuts, forgot their dancing and became (as indeed they were) Monkeys instead of actors, and pulling off their masks and tearing their robes, they fought with one another for the nuts. The dancing spectacle thus came to an end, amidst the laughter and ridicule of the audience.

Moral:

They who assume a character will betray themselves by their actions.

Six billion monkeys

We are all monkeys — dancing to songs in metrics of superiority. We measure superiority by our ability to understand, and we dance to the understanding that some monkeys are inferior by their size and color and location. We measure superiority with ability to build, and we dance to destruction we build on other monkeys. We measure superiority with ability to utilize, and we dance to utilization of vanishing resources of all monkeys.

Some monkeys dance, hoping to amuse other monkeys. Some monkeys dance, hoping that other monkeys will also dance. Some monkeys dance, hoping to appear just like other monkeys.

Some monkeys dance that they seem mighty. Some dance to exhaustion; some dance numbly further. Some monkeys dance in troupes but some may dance alone.