Suppose you’re an alien from outer space, and you've just arrived to planet earth for a short visit. You land on JFK and they send you to a waiting room while they're processing your inter-planetary passport.
You’re in the waiting room, you're bored, you start looking at the TV screen. There’s a cooking show on, and there's some blond angry dude who just can’t seem to stop yelling! He keeps on screaming louder and louder, and then he starts getting in people’s faces... One of his students is just about to have a mental breakdown.
Wait, all of this is about a fucking chicken?
You keep watching, one of the contestants confesses to the camera that he’s gonna do something he’ll regret and that he’ll probably end up in jail today. Another girl starts crying uncontrollably.
Meanwhile the blond angry guy just keeps screaming like he’s giving birth to triplets. Look at that vein on his forehead! Dude, chill or you’re gonna pop a vessel. He starts running around like a crazy person, throwing his arms in the air and showing unmistakable signs of distress.
I bet that even the chicken was calmer before they killed it.
Finally, it’s your turn and they let you in, time to see the gate keeper. You don’t know why they even have these things in the first place, passports and whatnot. Where you come from they don’t have ports you just pass.
They send you to talk with some creepy guy with a funny mustache, he looks like a frustrated porn star from the 1980s. You look at him and you're shocked to see how stressed out he seems to be, and so is everyone waiting in line behind you.
This is worse than the chicken.
You wanna tell them to calm down, you want to tell them that these are just artificial lines anyways. But you keep your thoughts to yourself and you walk towards the mustache.
He keeps looking at you and your ID with some strange mysterious look, it's like he's auditioning for some Sherlock Holmes movie. Dude, who are you posing for?
He takes a deep breath and asks you about your intentions.
Well, I’m not marrying your daughter if that’s what’s your asking.
He doesn’t think it's funny, and he gets even more serious if such thing was even possible. Then all of the sudden, he too starts to experience that vein popping syndrome. What is it with this planet and stress?
He tells you to take this seriously, that it’s a matter of national security. He tells you about some legendary tales about the hunt of some bearded man who lived in caves while uploading videos. They finally found him and tossed him into the ocean.
The story goes like this: George Bush killed Saddam Hussein; Hussein Obama killed Osama…Ok this is too confusing.
He tells you that 15 years ago there was an event that changed the course of history. And that because of that event, people now have to keep surrendering their freedoms gradually until the day they successfully bring slavery back.
He tells you that that’s the reason they cup your balls at the airport, and why they swipe your hands in case you’re holding too much freedom. He lays back in the chair, crosses his arms and then he says in the absolute voice of pride:
“I’m the last line of defense between civilisation and all hell breaking loose.”
Well then you guys are screwed!
He doesn’t laugh, he gets even more serious, he adjusts his position to convey more power, he clears his voice and he just keeps giving you that angry look as if you just had sex his wife or something.
Would that vein pop already? The suspense is killing me.
Sir, what do you do for a living?
I’m a comedian.
Can you say something funny?
Nothing that won’t be turned against me.
He doesn’t know what to do with you anymore and then he lets you pass. Finally! You know when they say that’s a hour of my life that I’m never gonna get back?
Worse, I think I’ve lost 12 months from my life expectancy.
You go to the airport store, you buy a Zenfone, download Uber and get a ride to take you away from such a stressful place. Now I know why people hate bureaucrats. In the radio some asshole just wouldn’t stop complaining about illegal aliens stealing his job. Dude, I literally just arrived!
Sure, blame it on the alien.
“We’re under attack! Full frontal assault! We’re going to hell in a hand basket!” Yeah, whatever douchebage, here, watch some Stanhope:
Second day on earth and you’re making friends already, you pick up some slang. You learn Yolo, Fomo, Hobo, Mofo, Bae, and Swagger.
Then they take you shopping.
Might as well, what else was I gonna do anyways? Just eating dinner and going to the movies by myself. You know, masturdating.
How about that? I'm getting good at this slang thing.
You go to the mall, you get fake worn out jeans, miss-matched clothes, and a slightly over sized beanie hat. Then they tell you to grow a beard. It's fashion they say.
You walk down the street and you see some guy sleeping in outside with a sing that says: Will work for food.
Hey! There’s another hipster!
No, he’s not.
What do you mean? Worn out jeans? Check. Miss-matched clothes? Check. Oversized beanie hat to protect from the cold and doubles up as night shades? Check. He’s even got the beard part covered.
You lean down, you try to give him some cash and strike a conversation with the homless man.
What are you doing? He’s just going to spend it on alcohol!
What do you think I was going to spend it on?
They tell you that you’re supposed to fear the homeless, to take that money you were going to hand them and give it to the government. They tell you that politicians will know how give them the proper help they need…
What are you brain-damaged?
Plus what is it with all the stress anyways? Buy the right clothes for fear of inadequacy, fear of failure, fear of foreigners, fear of the poor.. When does this stop?
You are pressured to join that college, you’re pressured to choose the right job, you’re pressured to stick to it at the expanse of you dreams. You’re pressured to get married before you get ‘too old’, teenagers are pressured to lose their virginity a the right time.
Holy crap! Why does this have to be so complicated?
But maybe we’re asking the wrong questions here. Better question is: When does this even start?
Even the simple act of playing, even the simple act of playing has been taken away from children and put on mommy's schedule in the form of play dates.
Something that should be spontaneous and free is now being rigidly planned.
When does a kid ever get to sit in the yard with a stick anymore?
But you know something, a kid shouldn't be wasting his time with a stick anyway.
If he's 4 years old, he should be home studying for his kindergarten entrance exams.
Do you know about that shit? Oh, they have them now.
There are places that have kindergarten entrance exams.
The poor little fuck.
The poor little fuck, he can barely locate his dick, and already he's being pressured to succeed. ― George Carlin
You’re mind is blown away, you can’t figure out why there are so many artificial limitations in place, and which only purpose is to stress the hell out of ordinary people. It’s like those experiments where you put rats in a lab and you start zapping them time and time again until they start to turn against one another.
You look around and you still don’t understand what’s going on. Things could be so much easier without so many unnecessary societal constructs. You keep searching and you find a one minute video that welcomes people like you this the crazy beautiful game of life.
The Game
He's right you know, one thing we are guaranteed to forget: The game!