Wednesday, May 7, 2008

The Human Need For Self-Examination

A note to the reader:

I don't know what the fuck happened when I wrote the follow piece. In my head I was going to write about human psychology, and use the Einstein definition of insanity (doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results) as it's basis. I had every intention of going into the human need to find out more about themselves, what makes them tick, and why they let themselves be frustrated by actions they perform repeatedly, which could be changed, but aren't because the pattern is too familiar and comfortable. While this was floating through my head I began typing, hit an image, and everything screeched to a halt. Suddenly every lofty idea I had about the human mind shattered, falling to the floor while I gloried in the bizarre image that somehow stuck in my head, refusing to leave.

The Human Need For Self-Examination.

Part One: The Asshole.

Human beings are the only creatures in the animal kingdom which will devote hours upon hours to self-examination. No other creature does this, since they are concerned mainly with eating, fucking, and not dying. Whereas animals will perform specific actions by nature which insure their survival, a human will devote an hour of contemplation to the question of whether or not their asshole looks bizarre when examined up close. What possible use does this have? Sitting around thinking about the inside of your asshole does nothing to push forward your survival. In fact, if you were to stop thinking about your asshole for that time, go out and do something other than staring into the pit, you may actually perform actions that will advance your station in this world. But no, that's not the case. People love themselves more than anyone else in the world, and will glory in the beauty of their own imperfections. So they bend over, spread their cheeks, and stare deeply into the reflection of their anus, piercing the inside with their eyes, and trying to find out what the problem is.

"Is it cute?"
"Is it gross?"
"Do I need to trim the edges?"
"How can I fix this?"

An asshole is for shitting, cleaning, and for some people, filling with random objects. It is not a part of the body that deserves an overabundance of attention. Yet this culture, a culture of amateur proctologists, insist on the importance of their assholes, to the point where it is rumored that some celebrities actually bleach them. Come on now. The number of people who are into rimjobs can't be that high. Most people are so uptight in the first place that they wouldn't even dare let another person stare at their asshole. No, this is a solitary action, but the results of these findings are almost always shared. People will go out and tell the world all about their assholes, but when asked, "May I please see it so that I'll know what you're talking about," they'll give you the harshest look you'll ever see and storm away in a fit. "No," they'll snarl, "you may NOT look at my asshole. It's MINE. Don't you get that? I just want you to know about it." Thus, the pants stay on, but the contents in the back are always on the owner's lips.

Stop talking about your assholes, folks. Nobody wants to know. In fact, stop looking at your damn assholes. Just keep them clean and you'll be happy. Why do I always have to be the one to tell this to people? I figured that washing your asshole and letting it be was common knowledge. Turns out I was wrong.

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