[Bytemaster, don't bother reading this. Your time is more valuable.]
And said the master to the student, "go out into the world and seek ye the answer to this question: what is the true definition of 'ides'? For when that question ye have answered, the truth ye shall know."
"That's easy," said the pupil. "The Romans used "ides" to refer to the middle of the month."
"Perhaps that is so," said the master. "And yet you still believe there are four quarters in a year. Clearly, you have some pavement to pound."
There wasn't any door to hit him on the way out. Many moons hence, the student returned. "I finally got it," he said. "I know the answer to the question. 'Ides' is the date by which the first half shall have ended."
"Pretty good," said the master. "How many quarters are there in a year?"
"Five?" The apprentice cringed, knowing it was simply a guess. 'Four' hadn't gotten him very far last time.
"The problem with the Romans," said the master, "is they didn't know the meaning of overtime. Nobody ever tossed the pigskin in the Hippodrome. You are guessing there is more to life than meets the eye. On this score, you are correct. But you still do not know the true measure of the meaning. Or the meaning of the true measure. If you catch my drift. Which you most assuredly do not."
"Hippo skin?" The student went out again into the world. Months past. When he finally returned almost a year later, he looked like he'd just had a vision. Or maybe a pleasurable peak moment.
"Did you figure it out yet, son?" The master asked.
"No, coach. I don't know how many quarters there are. But I found a more complete answer to the definition. The 'ides' is the date by which all other dates are measured. And because it is relative, nothing else is really fixed. The damn game can go on forever...until..."
"...until there's a winner!" The master clapped his hands together as he finished his pupil's sentence. "And did you win?"
"Of course." The student emptied his pocket. It was full of quarters, which spilled out onto the ground. There looked to be many dollars' worth of good coin.
"And how did you become such a winner?"
"I ran an IPO for myself on Bitshares Me. My stock rose, even as I paid back my investors. They won. But I was a winner, too. Still, I haven't a clue how many quarters there are. I realized the time didn't matter nearly as much as getting it right."
"Plenty of quarters in the year. Plenty of fish in the sea. Fucking genius, kid," said the master. "Now help me up."
He arose from his squat and grabbed up the quarters. "I gotta take me a walk and stretch these legs. Arthritis is a real bitch. You sit down. You the new master now."
Translation: What does it all mean? Just that I'm lousy at fiction. In the time it took you to read that story, our DAC products are that much closer to completion. I kept the reader from bothering Bytemaster for a short time.
Man's gonna get it right and we're not gonna care how long it took. Better safe than sorry.