Greasing the Squeakiest Wheel is a Waste of Time
There is harm, however, in paying heed to the complaining wheels. Eventually, the machine gets bogged down trying to address even the most mindlessly stupid complaints that the legitimate ones are ignored.
There was no thunder, no glowing doorway, no mysterious wind blowing through the apartment, and no choir of angels politely alerting me that physics had submitted its resignation.
The deck simply felt heavier.