Why All Philosophers and Poets Are Such a Pain in the Ass!
by Joe Buonfiglio
ME: “SON OF A BITCH!”
WIFE: “Language, please.”
ME: “We’re almost at the damn tollbooth and there’s a line of cars behind me! How the hell am I supposed to know how much the toll is befo—”
SON: “It’s a buck.”
ME: “All right, genius, how do you kno—”
SON: “Because we just passed three signs that said it was a dollar. Do you even look at the road when you’re driving?”
ME: “HOLY SHIT! I DON’T HAVE A DOLLAR! DAMN IT! DOES ANYBODY HAVE A DOLL—”
SON: “You know we have E-ZPASS on this car, right?”
ME: “Oh. Right.”
SON: “Is there any chance that I’m adopted?”
Is my life just a constant struggle to avoid embarrassing myself in front of those of greater intellectual prowess? Is that the case for all of us? For that matter, does this thing we call “life” have any meaning at all? Are we part of some Grand Design, or merely residue genetic flatulence that learned the pre-parlor trick of seeping out of the primordial ooze?
What … is … life? What is its true significance; its specific importance on a cosmic scale.
This question has kept both frustrated poets and philosophers deep within the whiskey bottle for generation upon generation without adequate resolve.
What is life?
I’ll tell you…
LIFE IS sometimes a yearning for that we cannot touch; other times a touch for that in which we should not yearn.
If you think about it, that’s actually less obscure than it seems. (Just ask my Willy. He’ll tell you.)
LIFE IS an elephant dancing on the head of a pin.
Don’t be an idiot; a pygmy elephant, not a full-blown African elephant. Let’s not be crazy about this.
LIFE IS a whole fried pickle shoved up the anus of a parakeet … without dipping sauce.
LIFE IS the two or three cents that ring up on the gas pump before any gasoline actually starts flowing.
Cheating prick bastards!
LIFE IS a Krispy Kreme-doughnut cheeseburger with a side order of fried Oreos at the state fair.
However, life is NOT a “Twinx”! (a Twinkie stuffed with a Twix, wrapped in bacon, dipped in batter and deep fried)
LIFE IS also a diabetic on a diet … at an all-you-can-eat buffet.
LIFE IS a cheap $10 whore … when all you have in your pocket is $9.
LIFE IS a stunningly beautiful fire-red sunset at the beach … and you’re blind.
LIFE IS a Galápagos finch sowing the seeds of doubt into the mind of a scientist and screwing up a good thing for generations of tithing-oriented collection plates.
LIFE IS about eating a unicorn to acquire its magical powers … only to wake up with a mouth full of stuffing and your child inconsolably crying thanks to you taking a bite out of the ass of the Build-a-Bear she made at some rugrat’s birthday party in the mall.
LIFE IS being unable to decide whether or not to use an Oxford comma on inventory day.
LIFE IS a small child purposefully defying his parents and dropping a french fry in front of a starving seagull with a broken wing … and then mercilessly spanking the little bastard when the gull’s friends show up to get in on the free meal, and then incessantly guano-bomb the whole family from above as they make a mad dash for the car.
LIFE IS finally realizing you are living a lie and have been Gay all along … after you are shipwrecked on a completely deserted island.
LIFE IS abruptly waking up and inexplicably yelling “CUNT!” after nodding off in a crowded movie theater … during a Disney film festival.
And why are all philosophers and poets such intolerable pains in the ass that the rest of we collective members of polite society should rise up, hunt them down and throw them into some fiery pit of despair?
Well, besides the fact they’d all probably enjoy that; ultimately, LIFE IS spending all of your life trying to figure out what LIFE IS, and then one day finally just saying “Fuck it!” and going out for a beer with friends…
… IS what LIFE IS all about.
© 2015 Joseph P. Buonfiglio All Rights Reserved.