parable of symmetry

Somewhere, in a realm and time that would seem quite unfamiliar to any of you, lives an entire race of creatures that you, quite ignorantly, might call half people. They hop about on a single leg and operate countless machines and devices with their single hands. It all would look quite bizarre to the casual symmetric observer, but to the Singularians, as they like to call themselves; everything runs quite smoothly. Although it would be quite difficult for you to draw any sort of comparison between you and them, if you could, you would probably find that their technology and cultural advancements are on par with your own; and in all honesty, the Singularians were not incomplete or lacking in any way. I am not going to go into great details describing them, but instead I would like to relate a curious, but not uncommon, meeting which should help to illuminate their differences from you. At least know this, before I begin, the Singularians quite detest symmetry, or at least, they have had no reason to ever like it, for it has never been prominent in their world. Now then, in the world of the Singularians once upon a time a horrible freak of nature was born to a very ashamed Singularian parent (if you thought there were separate sexes among the Singularians, guess again). The freak, as it were, could have probably been your cousin. He was unlucky enough to be born with two of everything, with a nice, straight set of teeth to boot. Despite what talents and skills he maybe could have possessed in your world, in the realm of the Singularians, the symmetric one, as they called him, was doomed to be an utter failure at all things. Singularian infrastructure simply had no place for the symmetric one, and it simply didn’t make sense economically to design new systems to cater to him because he was the only known historical case of such peculiar defections. Many warm hearted Singularians had worked tirelessly for great deals of time to find a place for him, but in the end, no one could figure out how it could be done. The symmetric one would end up living the majority of his life as a beggar on street corners. So it happened one day, despite all the attempts to keep such a cross from occurring, that a sharp young Singularian gallivanted up to the symmetric one in a fashion later considered quite graceful by other Singularians.
“There is, on the next corner over,” rattled the Singularain, “a fellow who like you has been quite unsuccessful, he now spends his days begging for change, just as you do.”
“I see.” Replied the symmetric one, already wary of the direction this conversation was taking.
“Do you know why he must beg?”
“No, why must he?”
“I’m afraid, you see, that he has fallen on the most difficult of times. He has been quite unfortunate with work all his life and is now deeply depressed over it, but there is more to it than that, you see he has no living family now, and as his depression grew over time he lost contact with all of his friends. Now he has no one who would help him, and since his affliction is so vague and circumstantial in nature it seems that he has fallen through the cracks of society, beyond the reach of any organization that might be otherwise be able to help him.”
“I see.”
“But do you know why you must beg on this corner?”
“Because I am different.” Said the symmetric one, and although he knew this was the proper answer, it was evident that he regretted knowing it. In truth, he had come to this conclusion years ago on his own. If the symmetric one had gotten out of reach of societies help, it was because he had been deliberately put there.
“I see, someone must have already explained it to you.”
“No, I think rather that I have figured it out for myself over my many years of begging and being so unsuccessful.”
“Oh?”
“As far as I can tell it is because of my defects of excess. I was born with too much of everything it seems. I require twice as many resources to survive as any one like you does, yet I have only ever been able to be as productive as any single individual. No menial labor position can properly sustain me, and similarly, no higher paying position will ever be available to me because of my grotesque appearance. In all honesty, it is somewhat a miracle that I have survived to this day, but the people of this city are incredibly generous; still let me assure you that not a day goes by in which I don’t wish that I was a functional member of society.” Explained the symmetric one.
“And yet you are not unintelligent,” commented the Singularian, “it truly is a pity that you were born into such circumstances. When I first saw you, I had planned to ridicule you, but now I am touched. Please take this money.” So left the Singularian, quite somber, and truly changed for life. The Symmetric one only laughed quietly to himself. If I told you just how rich he had become of the pity of the Singularians, you would almost certainly try to find a way to their realm yourself, and that would be incredibly foolish of you.