Life is a Bag of Dicks

Life is a bag of dicks.  

At this time, I encourage you to make your own sex joke or pun, if so desired.

In all honesty, the above sentiment isn't an apt metaphor; in fact it may not even be a metaphor.  If it is a metaphor, then it breaks down rapidly, unable to bear the weight of it's intended meaning.  If it is metaphor, it's a fucking terrible metaphor altogether, ill fitting for the situation.  Though I suppose it's ill fitted nature in itself makes is the most appropriate. Life can suck, it can be horrible, and sometimes it doesn't fit any meaning that you'd like to ascribe to it. 

Regardless of the phrase's purpose, there is something in that statement that feels viscerally satisfying. There is something blunt and baldly honest in the phrase; it's crude and harsh in a way that feel right for describing the macabre farce that is life.  And in a way, it's even a bit humorous, a bit of gallows humor all to appropriate to existence.  Especially if one contemplates the possible origination of the statement.

I could research the origin of the phrase, but I'm certain that its true history could never match the humor of my imaginings.  Yet the question remains: why is there a bag of dicks?  Are there just a few in there, or are there several? Dear god, how big is this bag?  And just how were these dicks obtained?  And just whom is it that collects said dicks?  Is there a team of dick collectors, or is just one highly dedicated person? The ideas behind this are horrifying.  Unless the dicks came from child molesters and rapists, in which case it is still utterly disgusting, but not as morally questionable. 

Yet that strange dichotomy, of something so horrific lurking beneath humor, is what gives the phrase its validity on the subject: the phrase seems bad enough on the surface of things, but the more you dig into it, the more you contemplate its meaning, the more horrifying it is.  Just like life.

But I guess this takes us back to iconic optimist/pessimist dichotomy: the glass is either half full or half empty.  Of course, this also relates to one's view of life.  Life is either an experience of meaning, caused by some force, or it's just an astronomical accident of existence that ultimately means nothing.  I personally subscribe to the atom collision idea; that we're just here, so we should make the best of it.  Of course, this leads to another dichotomy: selfish versus selfless. 

Looking at the world around us, we can see the selfish nature of life as evidenced by the countless displays of greed and cruelty we see on our screens everyday.  I do agree with the notion that there is no such thing as a truly selfless or kind act, because we all expect or get something from a charitable act, whether it be a tax write-off or just that glow of feeling good.  Yet the selfish nature of that selfless act is still a far sight less selfish that the plainly selfish greed displayed by other.  Some people live their lives by the motto "he who dies with the most toys, wins," a purely selfish motive.  But others feel that, even if they get something for themselves when they do something kind, at least they sort of spread out the good in life.  Since this is all there is to existence, some hold that they'll get what the can before they go, while others feel, why not try to lessen the misery of others? 

[Now, please prepare yourself for a trite, Christmas-time tie-in.]

So this holiday season, remember, life is a bag of dicks, and just generally sucks.  But try to enjoy it where you can, and make life suck just a little bit less for everyone else.