A man threw himself on the ground face first.
“I am gravity,” he said.
The people passing by on their ways to places had to step over him.
Soon they started taking him for granted.
The man took this as further proof that he was indeed gravity.
“People have always taken gravity for granted,” he chuckled to himself.

Of course, before long, he grew tired of being gravity for everyone.
“Let someone else come down here and be gravity for a while,”
said his mouth as if it were chewing on a balled up sock.
He thought if he could only just lift himself up and then throw himself down again,
right in front of a crowd and with a good bit of drama,
then people would stop taking gravity for granted.

The problem was, being gravity, he certainly could not defy gravity.
What would become of a universe if it were to behave in such a way?
Logic was driving him mad.
But at last an idea came to him.
He started hassling particularly heavy people that passed by.
“Pssst. Hey you, just think how much happier you’d be . . . without gravity.”
“Wow, it must be hell to lug around all that weight!”
Heavy people soon became enraged; they had found a scapegoat for their woes.

The heavy people conspired to do away with gravity.
One day, as he released his muffled babble into the throng,
a contingent of especially large people grabbed him and hoisted him
up into a tree. They lashed his wrists and ankles to the branches.
They yelled, “Go ahead, gravity, go ahead and fall now, just you try!”

Gravity delighted to hear his name on the lips of the fat.
Tears fell down from his eyes.
“Look,” said the fat, “he’s really a storm cloud that slipped and broke its back!”
“No!” said the man, “No! I am a man, I am a man!”
But the fat merely put up their umbrellas and walked away
feeling lighter with each step.