Imagine all the people peeing on the floor
08.16.2003

I keep hearing from family members and friends, colleagues and coworkers, politicians and philosophers, that humanity's problems are complex ones. Now let me take this moment to point out that the philosophers, politicians, pops, and myself are referring not to food-on-human problems or bacteria-on-human problems, etc. What we're all looking at here is the human-on-human factor, otherwise known as sociopolitical problems or somesuch overintellectualized crap.

Homo problemus is a conundrumatic freak, an amalgam of "there's more to it than that", "my dick is bigger than yours", "stop nagging me", "everyone's different", "let's just be friends", "never show your true feelings", "I know you have a big stick somewhere - hand it over", and so on. Or so I'm told. Ad nauseam.

What a giant load of twaddle.

Frankly, most people like to overcomplicate their problems. Complicated problems are easy problems. Complicated problems can be partially addressed. One can compartmentalize a self-complicated problem, giving it headings and subcategories, tangents and asides, until the problem is made so huge that there's really no point in solving it. After all, it has become the Mount Vesuvius of dilemmas, big and noisy and spewing all kinds of hot assfuck all over everybody. We'll just chip away at this wee lump of lava rock on the side here with this jeweller's chisel, thanks. Hey, it worked in The Shawshank Redemption. But the whole problem, the actual problem -- we'll just let that big volcanic eruption do its thing, even if it happens to bury a city or two.

Simple problems are hard. Simple problems have simple solutions. How often can any of us say we saw a simple solution that could also be called an easy one? That let us dodge and duck and lie to ourselves like somehow we had no responsibility for any of this? That could be answered with a "yes" or a "no", a "do it" or a "don't", which meant making a decision and sticking with it, even if that meant we had to face our prickishness, acknowledge our stupid boobdom, and move on?

The problem with humanity is not Mount Vesuvius. OK, yes, it is Mount Vesuvius if you happen to actually live right beside something like Mount Vesuvius, but that's no longer a metaphorical human problem and is, in fact, a geological lava problem, which is another entry entirely.

I think I have a simple solution to every human being's every problem with other humans. However, as simple solutions often demand, there can be no exceptions. It is universal in its simplicity, and must take effect for every type of people person another person can think of, be it Prince Charles or Madonna or Carrot-Top or Mom. As is also common with simple solutions, it is simultaneously both silly and elegant, so feel free to giggle while you acknowledge its effectiveness.

If you want to solve all human-on-human problems, treat every human being you encounter, and every group of human beings should said human beings do as they tend to do and glom together, like puppies.

*Bling* World peace, man.

Let me elucidate.

Puppies never do anything, no matter how stupendously destructive or mind-numbingly moronic, with any kind of deliberation. When we look at Snuffles staring up at us with those big, limpid, woeful puppy-dog eyes while a wee piece of hand-woven raw silk dangles from the right side of his mouth, we know widdle dittums was asowwy widdle fluffy wuffy boy awwww.

He's just doing what puppies do. That's OK. He'll grow out of it if we reward him for being a good puppy and give him treats.

Remember, while you're giving Mr. Snuffles a milkbone and rubbing his snout, Mr. Snuffles is treating you likewise. Puppification can only achieve maximum effectiveness and cuddly fluffy factor if we all go on the paper.

Occasionally Mr. Snuffly Wuffly will need to get a rolled-up-newspaper smackeroo, but that's only because we wuv 'im so much oooo we dooweeooo. It's never a real smack, just a mock smack, because Mr. Snuffles is just too darn little and stupid and undeliberate to deserve a real nasty whack.

What's more, things that Mr. Snuffles does seem so incredibly adorable, even though if the same things were done by your mother or your husband or your child, it would be legal grounds for justifiable homicide. Aww, look -- Mr. Snuffly Wuffly is eating his own vomit. Awwww. And look -- now he's licking your 5-year-old child's open mouth. Awwww.

People, on the other hand, are all willfully evil. Oh yes. Everything we do is never inadvertent, never instinctive or accidental. We have those big brains, after all. Right? We control our own actions; therefore, we make conscious choices to screw over everyone around us.

Neither the puppy assumption nor the people assumption is accurate. Even if either one was, how exactly does any human benefit from another human behaving in response to the first human in the manner that the first human did, a manner that pissed off the second human in the first place and prompted the second human to do unto the first human as the first human did unto the second?

As evidence of the idiocy in overcomplicating human-on-human stuff, I present to the court the above paragraph as Exhibit "A".

Puppies eat, sleep, shit, piss, play, and lick themselves -- and that's about it. What's more, when we're in the presence of puppies, we come to acknowledge that, yeah, that's pretty much all we want to do too. Why blow someone's head off when you can just whack them halfheartedly on the nose with the Sun Times? Why hire lawyers to acquire half of all his property, his car, his son, and his testicles when you can teach him newer, kinder tricks with some tasty food and some belly rubs? Wouldn't you rather have an afternoon frisbee toss in the park than a police action?

It's simple. We accommodate puppies. We grit our teeth and exhibit patience with puppies. When puppies mangle our slippers, we still play with them later. Puppies are fun. We like puppies, even when puppies pee on our leg or eat our magic markers, an act which really hurts them more than it hurts us considering it stains the fur around their muzzle and front paws an angry green. To err is canine. Forgive.

I rest my case. Arf.


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Last 5 entries:
01.14.2007:Finally, a support group we can all get behind
01.09.2007:The City That Ever Reeks
01.08.2007:Waiter, there's a uterus in my soup
01.03.2007:Long Lost Mummy of Nefertiti Found in Smoog's Apartment
12.30.2006:New Year's resolutions we can actually keep



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