I tried pinching it, which served as a temporary solution, but it also hurt, which I've decided is not preferable to itching. So now I'm just sitting here, a man with the world's most sophisticated technology at his finger-tips who is incapable of scratching a damn itch. Monkeys can scratch itches, and they haven't even figured out fire yet. Monkeys - 1. Me - 0.
Being beaten at anything by a monkey really puts our society into perspective. As a species, we've reached technological milestones our forefathers never even dreamed of: we have mass spectrometers, particle accelerators, micro-chips, MRI machines, and laser-eye surgery. LASERS. Like in Star Wars. Yet I still go around each day being bugged by a million stupid problems that I have no remedy for. Wet socks. Wedgies. Sandwiches that fall apart. People next to me in class who stink to high heaven. Leg-in-jean-itch. Admittedly the stinky guy is irrelevant, but the simple truth remains: these are not the vast and unfathomable problems of the world, they are simple obstacles which nevertheless make up the bulk of my everyday problems.
I'm sick of it. We are a people of TOOLS. We've kept our hairless, clawless, scrawny selves alive with sticks and fire and furs for generations, and yet we've gotten so used to high technology that we've forgotten how to scratch an itch. I think that this is bullshit. Screw "efficiency," and the notion that "excess" is a bad thing, I want a fucking tool for every damn problem I could ever have. Here is a list of tools I've thought up (in the last 5 minutes), and if you think that you wouldn't endorse every damn one of them then you're either lying to yourself or have a superpower (I'd like sandwich-integrity-maintenance-powers). In either case you're utterly contemptible and irrelevant.
Gortex Lining for ALL SHOES EVER: Every human being from New York to the Somme has had to deal with wet socks at one point or another, and it sucks. End it forever.
Power Dish Scrubber: Doing dishes is stigmatized in American culture for a reason. Worst of all is those damn cups and shot glasses which you can't fit your hand into, forcing you to spend five minutes pushing the sponge around inside like an idiot to make sure all the crusted gunk is cleaned. I say we just take a small drill, bend it straight, then attach one of a variety of extensions, some of which are longer for cups, and others which are wider for bowls and dishes. Bam. A lot less money than a dishwasher, and a lot less moronic than me looking like a jackass playing "hide the sponge" with an inanimate object.
Velcro Boxers: there are little velcro tabs attached to the hem which adhere to a corresponding piece on the inside of your pants. Discreet, and you'll never again have to race the elevator doors when de-wedgifying yourself.
Edible sandwich glue: I'll accept that this one is questionable, but everyone know the feeling of having some big-ass tasty-lookin' sandwich and having the motherfucker come apart at the seams the moment you take a bite out of it. The worst thing is that this usually happens to the sandwiches which look the most delicious. The solution is edible, so you won't even notice, and your finger food won't turn into a salad.
Stools in the standing room at the opera: Duh. Rich people need to realize that their looking rich is validating enough. They don't need to make poor people actually look poor.
Itchy-McScratcher: This one is tricky, and yet I need to solve the title problem simply or I'll look like a hypocrite. You need to be able to scratch any part of your leg discreetly and without damaging your pants. Would an electric shock stop an itch? Maybe. Perhaps there is no solution which doesn't require excessive amounts of technology. Perhaps I'm a hypocrite.
Do I contradict myself?
Very well then I contradict myself,
(I am large, I contain multitudes.)
Walt Whitman wrote that, and if it's okay with him it's okay with me. I'm going to go to the bathroom to scratch my leg now.
