Oh my God. This is the greatest day of my life.
A committee of people who operate out of the largest nearby city have selected a group of athletes who have performed so well that they will receive a chunk of metal that says that they have performed better than the other similar groups of athletes.
They are nominally affiliated with a city near me, and therefore affiliated directly with me, even though most of them have never lived nearby until they were selected by the owner who chose to locate his sports business in my town due to the unrealized market potential. This means I should jump up and down and scream with a joy that I never experience at any other point in my life.
I should dedicate a large portion of my knowledge seeking resources towards determining exactly how likely it is that the Nearby City Athletes will receive another chunk of metal next year.
And I will ridicule and wonder aloud about why anybody would pursue any different knowledge with the same zeal. Why? Because no other hobbies result in victory over losers who I often hate for no real reason. Victory and pride feel good, and for that reason, they are probably good emotions, that I should nurture and reward.
I should bring victory and pride into all of my social interactions, since the feeling is so rewarding. It’s like candy, lard, cheating on my wife, sticking the q-tip really far into my ear. It feels good temporarily, therefore it must be good, and it must be something that I should do as often as possible.
Shallow? What does that word mean? I thought it was just used to insult pretty girls who don’t realize they should have sex with me?
The Super Boil is on! It’s all come down to this, folks. We’ve got a large pot of boiling water, and two carrots that will put their physical properties to the test. One will become soft before the other, and one will stay hard. My God, what a glorious day this is in the world of professional aesthetic agriculture. I mean, nothing is actually being accomplished except for scientists discovering new ways of creating super hard carrots which nobody would want to eat, but just imagine how far we have come since the early days of this sport. By golly, I remember the day when we didn’t spend any time at all practicing an art that has no objective use outside of the exhibition of the art itself, and man did that suck!
“My money is on the Nearby City Carroteers. Their soil this year has a pH of 7, which is just so meaningfully acidic.”
“No, I hate to say it, but this season, the Foreign Barbarian Carrotologists have simply mastered the art of fertilizer composition.”
“HERESY!!! Everybody punch this guy on his upper arm!”
It’s fun to pretend, but why does it not look like anybody is actually pretending, but they’re taking it dead seriously, as if it is the only meaningful competition in their lives? Is that healthy? What if we researched, cared about, hated, and stood up and cheered about something meaningful instead? Like whether or not economic policies that benefit us are being implemented? Or whether or not foreign policy decisions are being made that create the largest amount of world happiness? Or literally anything in the world besides a field of knowledge that is contained within itself, and can never accomplish anything outside of its own purely recreational existence?
I win, jocks. Idiots. So… um… wheres my hordes of slutty girls? Oh, I forgot, we live in Bizzarro World, where only stupid things are smart.
