A Parable

I have a problem with roaches. I think it's my neighbor's fault. I am so sick and tired of them I am going to take care of them once and for all.
Where's my sledgehammer?
THERE'S ONE!
There goes a coffee mug that I left overnight in the sink full of food scraps and dirty dishes.
THERE'S ANOTHER ONE!
Ooops, I smashed my wine rack and now there's wine all over my kitchen floor.
Now my neighbors are begging me to stop. I told them I wasn't going to stop until the underlying causes of my roach infestation are addressed.
My neighbors say that I am making a bigger mess that will attract more roaches. I tell them that I won't stop until every roach is dead and I don't care how many dishes I smash, how many cookie jars are broken, how much drywall I have to replace, and how many canisters of rice are busted open. I will not put down my sledgehammer until every single.fucking.roach.is.dead. Do you hear me? I will not clean up my house until I have killed every single roach in it.