Once upon a time, there was a weaver of baskets who brought his art to perfection which amazed everyone, fellow weavers most of all. He worked in wood, he worked in copper, he worked in fabrics and hides. Emperors sent him gold and jewels; they received jeweled golden baskets more suitable for the thrones upon which they sat than they were.
One day when a man walked by the basket weaver in the street, he shook a bundle of common rushes he happened to be carrying and said, "This must be the only thing you haven't turned into a basket yet!"
The weaver blinked. "You're right. Will you give me those?"
He set to work right away. He bent and he wove the rushes, and before long he was setting the last in place. When he completed that basket, his final basket, its perfection caused it to contain the entire world, and never has anyone found a way to release it yet.
Moral: Get just good enough to get by.
Secondary moral: Don't let anything happen to this basket. It has people in it.
Finis
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