My Purpose in Life
In the strictly biological sense, there are exactly four reasons that a male is born into this world:
1 - To assist in making babies
2 - To hunt for food
3 - To defend the family from predators
4 - To lift heavy things
You could argue that the male has taken on certain new responsibilities in the modern world, but these are superfluous to the four reasons that we, as a sex, exist. These days, there are no predators and females are equally good (if not better) at procuring food from the supermarket. That leaves us guys with baby-making, and lifting heavy things. Baby-making is something that we're only holding on to by a thread, what with artificial insemination and sperm banks existing. It's only a matter of time until babies are totally boy-optional. For some guys, like me, baby-making is totally off our radar anyway. This leaves us with lifting heavy things. Some people wonder what the meaning of their life is. I know what mine is: to carry heavy objects for girls. On the flight back from London to Toronto I explained this concept to the girl sitting beside me. She agreed with my logic, and took pity on me for having such a limited purpose in the world.
A little bit needs to be said about my flight-buddy to really understand the impact of the rest of this story. She was from Toronto, but had been visiting her family in Somalia. You know, the African country beside Ethiopia that is famous mostly for having lots of malnourished Somalians that occasionally shoot each other. She said herself that she comes from "a skinny people," and I'm inclined to believe her. Even though she grew up in the lap of western prosperity, she looked to be in desperate need of a sandwich and was barely more than five feet tall. My luggage weighed more than she did. Girls do not come smaller or more defenceless-looking than her.
So, we get off the plane and we're still discussing my plight over having nothing to do in life other than lift heavy objects. She's really feeling my angst all the way to the baggage carousel. We stand for a while discussing the lateness of our luggage and how excited I am to lift my heavy duffle bag and fulfill my life purpose, when I see said bag comming down the conveyor. It's just about to reach the place where I'm standing, when the tiny Somalian girl jumps in front of me and hauls my bag off of the conveyor for me.
In that instant, I lost all reason to live. The tiniest girl that I have ever met had just robbed me of heavy lifting. I might as well go die now.
1 - To assist in making babies
2 - To hunt for food
3 - To defend the family from predators
4 - To lift heavy things
You could argue that the male has taken on certain new responsibilities in the modern world, but these are superfluous to the four reasons that we, as a sex, exist. These days, there are no predators and females are equally good (if not better) at procuring food from the supermarket. That leaves us guys with baby-making, and lifting heavy things. Baby-making is something that we're only holding on to by a thread, what with artificial insemination and sperm banks existing. It's only a matter of time until babies are totally boy-optional. For some guys, like me, baby-making is totally off our radar anyway. This leaves us with lifting heavy things. Some people wonder what the meaning of their life is. I know what mine is: to carry heavy objects for girls. On the flight back from London to Toronto I explained this concept to the girl sitting beside me. She agreed with my logic, and took pity on me for having such a limited purpose in the world.
A little bit needs to be said about my flight-buddy to really understand the impact of the rest of this story. She was from Toronto, but had been visiting her family in Somalia. You know, the African country beside Ethiopia that is famous mostly for having lots of malnourished Somalians that occasionally shoot each other. She said herself that she comes from "a skinny people," and I'm inclined to believe her. Even though she grew up in the lap of western prosperity, she looked to be in desperate need of a sandwich and was barely more than five feet tall. My luggage weighed more than she did. Girls do not come smaller or more defenceless-looking than her.
So, we get off the plane and we're still discussing my plight over having nothing to do in life other than lift heavy objects. She's really feeling my angst all the way to the baggage carousel. We stand for a while discussing the lateness of our luggage and how excited I am to lift my heavy duffle bag and fulfill my life purpose, when I see said bag comming down the conveyor. It's just about to reach the place where I'm standing, when the tiny Somalian girl jumps in front of me and hauls my bag off of the conveyor for me.
In that instant, I lost all reason to live. The tiniest girl that I have ever met had just robbed me of heavy lifting. I might as well go die now.
posted by B-Boy Nothing at 5:33 PM
2 Comments:
Awesome. I'm not the only one that can bitch you. I'm glad to see that someone else (even if it is a stranger) has kept of we demasculating (is that even a word... if not... it is now) you.
i feel emasculated everytime i ask a friend to change my windshield wipers. she seems to have knack for mechanical stuff.
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