Every ailanthus that I see taking a square foot of space from the dogwoods and redbuds of Virginia makes my blood boil. I'm all for survival and survivors, but I have no romantic inclination to embrace the ailanthus after seeing what it can do to a broad expanse of land in very short time. In other words, the metaphor is only a metaphor; trying to get rid of ailanthus is difficult. I can spot the ailanthus from half mile away any season--their winter fishing-pole-like spikes coming up out of the mountains fingers of death. And they propogate viciously and with unusual speed. Tree of hell; at least for Virginia woodlands.