I don't want to spend the time to shorten this one. Suffice it to say, you can skim to the end.
A young man (let's say he was 8 years old, though history does not specify) was on his way to school one day. As he was strolling merrily along, admiring the beauty of an early spring day, he happened to overhear a couple of slightly older girls talking. The conversation revolved around a purple feather. Now, of course the young man knew what a purple feather was, but in the context of this particular conversation (again, history does not specify the context), the girls could not possibly be referring simply to a feather that was purple. So he stopped and asked them....
"Excuse me, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation." He was a very polite little boy. "Would you mind telling me what a purple feather is?"
The girls giggled to each other. Then the taller of the two said, "Why don't you ask your teacher?"
So the boy continued on his way to school. When he got to school, he contained his excitement until recess, which he felt was the proper time to ask a non-school-related question.
"Teacher, I was on my way to school this morning when I heard these two girls talking about a purple feather. I was curious, so I asked them what a purple feather was, and they told me to ask my teacher. Teacher, what's a purple feather?"
The look on the teacher's face was one of (if you'll pardon the expression) shock and awe. When she finally found her voice, she said to the boy, "Young man, you're going to the principal's office!"
...
principal (expelled) -> mother (sent to room) -> father (kicked out of house) -> policeman (sent to jail) -> judge (sent to prison for 20 years)
all with lots of explaining of what has happened so far with many repeats of "purple feather."
...
As tends to happen in these stories, twenty years passed. The boy, now a young man, was free. As also tends to happen in these stories, he was still tormented by the question that caused him such trouble twenty years ago. He sat down in a bar to contemplate his ruined youth, and his next move.
The barman approached him. "What can I get....hey, why so glum, pal?"
The young man said, "Twenty years ago, I was on my way to school one day when I heard these two girls talking about a purple feather. I asked them what a purple feather was, and they told me to ask my teacher. I asked my teacher, and she sent me to the principal's office. I asked the principal, and he expelled me from school! I asked my mom, and she sent me to my room. I asked my dad, and he kicked me out of the house! I asked a policeman, and he threw me in jail. I asked the judge, and he sentenced me to prison for twenty years! It seems to me all of this could have been avoided if someone would've just told me what a purple feather was."
The barkeep said, "Man, that's rough. Have one on the house." He poured a glass of beer for our protagonist. "Tell ya what, buddy. I heard about a purple feather. I can't say that I know what it is myself, but I heard that the whole story of the purple feather is spelled out just a couple blocks away."
The young man did a spit take. "Really?! Where?"
The bartender said, "Okay, you take a right here on Third, then you take the left fork - that's Morgan. You go four blocks down Morgan, 'til you get to Crane. Two blocks down Crane, there's a five-story brown building on the left. That's an office building. Go to suite 213, and you'll have your purple feather."
The man was much too excited to finish his beer. He tipped the barman handsomely, and left the bar. He went right on Third. He came to the fork. He took the left fork. He turned on Crane. He could see the five-story brown building two blocks away. He got excited. He began to run. He crossed Oakwood against the light, and was hit by a car. He died on the way to the hospital.
Moral of the Story: Look both ways before you cross the street.
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There are 10 kinds of people in the world: those who know binary, and those who don't.