Deep inside the cave and loving it

Some people believe in the Platonic idea that there is an objective truth out there that we should all be striving for. The ultimate truth, they say, is the key to living a happy, fulfilled life. It is what separates man from the gods. I, on the other hand, am a simpler person. I don't know if we can ever understand any kind of ultimate truth, and we have more of a chance of living a fulfilled and happy life if we enjoy it for its details and think about its simpler joys and mysteries.

Like what if Pac-Man had teeth? Would it change anything? I've always contented that those dots he eats are semi-liquid, something like Jello maybe (in fact, that is the thesis of a paper I will be submitting to several science journals). There seems to be no other reasonable explanation for his ability to cram those things so fast. But what about our perception of Pac-Man? Would we be able to think of him in the same way ever again? Draw Pac-Man. Now add some teeth. Not the same, is it? Something just doesn't look right. Now draw him again with sharp, jagged fangs. Now he's vicious. I hate him.

I've always thought of Pac-Man as a kind of working class hero. He goes out there every day and does his job without question. And what does he get for it? A few measly points and a piece of fruit now and then. He's not particularly skilled but he works hard. And I like that about him. But Pac-Man with fangs? Where's the simple circle that used to personify the working class struggle by getting out there every day and working hard for his paltry wages? He's just not a regular guy anymore. He's an aggressor.

I think Jared Fogle would make a good lawyer. Don't you? There's just a certain authority about the guy. When he says that there are seven subs with under six grams of fat at Subway, I believe him. I'm not a nutritionist. I can't judge how much fat is in something just by looking at it or even if I hear a list of ingredients. But when Jared says it, I believe him. I'm a cynical teenager living in the information age who has been bombarded with advertising for my entire life. But when Jared says something, I believe it.

Think about him giving a closing statement. The other side would have no chance! He's just a regular guy who wrote to Subway to thank him for providing him the means to lose so much weight. Why shouldn't I trust him when he tells me the defendant couldn't possibly have cut the body into piece and dumped it into his car without getting a drop of blood on himself? Plus, I bet he could make some kick-ass metaphors with those pants. There's nothing like a giant pair of pants to hammer home a point with a jury.

Why do so few wrestling feuds end in murder? I mean don't get me wrong. I would never advocate murder. But it seems like in the long, illustrious history of professional wrestling it would have happened at least once. Have you seen what these people do to each other? They try and destroy their opponents' lives! They stalk their wives, throw each other in coffins, let snakes loose in their dressing rooms, wreck their cars, make fun of them in front of large crowds (a lot more traumatic than you think). I'm afraid one of these days it's just going to get out of line. I'm telling you, you can only tell me to "suck it" so many times before I start shooting.

Do you think a professional wrestler would be able to recover from that? You've seen these good guys get put into headlocks. All it takes is the crowd cheering and they get out of it. Wouldn't that be awesome to see a guy get shot in the chest six times or so and get rallied back to his feet while the bad guy waves his gun in the air wildly in horror trying to shut the crowd up.