The great debate of our age, echoing through the hall of reflections: Is it better to have never tried to organize the chaotic cupboard at all, than to have attempted and failed miserably?
Some say the attempt is the very definition of futility, while others argue that futility without attempt is mere inaction, and who wants to be remembered (or forgotten) for that?
In the midst of the existential reorganizing, our hero stumbled upon a long-lost sock. Its pair was but a mere memory, a ghost of laundry past. The sock stood as a symbol: Do we cling to what we've lost or move forward with mismatched resolve?
Politicians rise and fall like the tide of laundry. Empty promises are folded neatly into the corners of their speeches, while the substances of them are washed away in the spin cycle of public opinion.
"I, too, have socks," declared one leader, "and they are unmatched, just like my policies!"