I cannot answer this question, for I have not traveled the seven seas and seven lands. I cannot answer this question, for I am but a lowley pawn in this grand scheme. Everyday I ask "Why is it thy sky above that you are so green?" And the sky answer with the same retort "Green!? Why are you so mean?" Alas, I perish the thoughts of such a question. I instead take a sip from my flask I look to the grass beneath my feet and I ask "Why is it thy grass below, why must you be so blue?" And the grass answers with the same retort "Well, I could ask the same of you!" I suppose these answers still leave questions in oodles, but I'm afraid in this dog eat dog world. We are but poodles.