Now Peoples, Listen up. Just put on your thinking caps for a moment and use your noodle. Pretend you are the Creator. Blasphemous, I know. So let's scale it down a bit. You are the sole proprietor of a curiously Intelligent Ant colony. Better, yeah? Here we go.
Mysterious Mr. Hand (that's you) not in want of keeping of all the joys and happiness of Life to Himself (herself, if you please too of course, but for simplicity sakes, please just let me use the masculine pronoun henceforth), sets himself to placing one of those ant colony sand formations in betwixt two simple planes of Plastic.
"Now here I shall see in a little microcosm a mirror reflecting all that I see in my own daily life, and how splendid this endeavor shall be!" you say outloud, even though you are in all actuality talking to yourself. Doesn't matter. You're determined to provide the Means for life to flourish in any case.
You bring in your subsequent subjects, having no immediate knowledge of your existence, into their new home, and you're delighted to no end for the longest time how they go about making the most of their circumstances and trying to improve it in every way imaginable! Work is divided among the different abled bodies, a sort of hierarchy develops, and efficiency blossoms!
After enjoying a certain number of generations of their gathering their wits about them as they hone in on their own most efficient societal structures, you begin to notice that some are beginning to take exception to their Natural order. Being all the wise of them, you can indeed sense their thoughts, even the wayward ones, and leaning more to grasp their reasonings, you are astonished that you find them Denying that You even exist, but only the craft of their own hands.
"As if your entire world just exploded into being, without me!" you tearfully lament.
You give them some time, but unfortunately those counted among the most wise and prosperous do nothing but promulgate this disposition to most of the other colony.
"How long shall I continue this to last?" you ponder. Their generation comes quickly enough, and so you Decide to let some time go by, seeing how things will materialize after a time. Unfortunately things don't seem to get any better, but just get worse with each passing generation.
"I'm going to shake them up!" you say aloud. But after some additional inward pondering, you remind yourself that there are many who still think truly that but by the Grace of your setting up the Colony in the first place, they go.
So you let them have at it, for an extended duration of time.
Until at last you can see only one or two who remains, willing to be cast in a crazy light, that a Mr. Hand exists, and has provided all this to you in the first place, and just would have you acknowledge him at the very least, and to say thank you every now and again, if at all possible.
"I shake Thee!" you say at last, and so do.
A little stupid story, but it's the best I can do!
But just imagine that if you were the Creator, and you provided all this for the rest of us, that we cast you aside, and instead pursued our own desires, denied you, and caused everyone else to Forget you. Would you be Pissed? I would!