A dialogue on bears

Robert Robus: Although bears are often cute, I'd hate to get in between one and her cubs; for it is said that nature is red in tooth and claw--and verily, I believe that to be the case.

Tartar: If I saw a bear, I'd spit in its face and run.

Robert Robus: I, Robert Robus, would hold that move to be less than wise, my friend.

Tartar: Why? It's fun!

Robert Robus: Why, Tartar! I must say that I am somewhat surprised (though, given your scant intellectual capacities, I probably should not be) that you fail to apprehend that such short-sighted enjoyment--or, as you term it, "fun"--could quickly bring other consequences which, in the long term, might tend to eliminate your capacity to experience pleasure in toto.

Tartar: What do you mean? He'd bite off my joystick or something?

Robert Robus: No, Tartar...I don't think he'd be that precise. (Indeed, ripping you to shreds would seem the more likely outcome.)

Tartar: Ha! That's what you think! But for your information, Robert, I spit in bears' faces all the time, and laugh and laugh and laugh, making fun of their hairstyle, or the dorky way they walk, or how they talk funny and stuff, and I haven't gotten ripped to shreds once!

Robert Robus: Bears don't have hairstyles, you nitwit! Furthermore, they possess fur, not hair! And they don't talk!

Tartar: To me they do. They just think you're boring and an idiot, and they all agree you're not worth talking to.

Robert Robus: I see that, in the court of the public opinion of bears (as you paint it), I, Robert Robus, appear to have little cachet. But I put little credence in your account, friend Tartar; I'm sure that if bears had sufficient intellectual capacity to know what esteem was, they'd hold me high in theirs.

Tartar: Yeah, Bob--whatever helps you sleep at night.

[NOTE FROM BLOG ADMINISTRATOR]
And thus concludes yet another illuminating dialogue in the annals of this reputed blog. Please return another day for more from the hallowed quill of America's favorite cybercomedian, Robert Robus.