300 Lbs. and Rising: The perfect solution to a crappy day

I think it was Shakespeare, or maybe Milton, who said,

I remember with fondness, and a tear,

The crapulent days of freshman year-

Bacchus and Falstaff, illegal beer,

A little breath, love, wine, and good cheer.

But after five days of classes, Friday leaves me weakened. And even on Saturday, I feel tired. I’m half the man I used to be. I have to phone in my regrets to the Playboy mansion. And so we’re all reduced to “fighting, devotion, dust- perhaps a name,” as Lord Byron wrote.

It’s not my fault though. I just read the sad tale of Barbara Norris of Ohio, who, because she weighed over 500 pounds, couldn’t fit into her casket! And that, bunky, is a very personal bugbear. Furthermore, what with freed minks turning into cannibals in Washington and Russian electric companies threatening to kidnap pets, I can safely say that I’m not alone in being too worried to pass out on a park bench these days.

And it’s not just the Rest of the World anymore! As we’ve seen from the events of last week, it’s impossible to walk down Commonwealth Ave. without thinking about mutations from cell phone towers or escaped gorillas intent on proving that they haven’t read Darwin, and so won’t evolve just yet. And don’t even get me started on the bar scene!

It’s a great world for the paranoid schizophrenic. They’re bursting with the “I told you so” and the inevitable developments into little men with beards following them around. But what about us, the silent majority, who believe not in little men with beards but in moon landings and man’s redemptive goodness? Where can we find the comfort and courage to fear nothing except fear itself?

The answer, pal, lies in two syllables and the greatest marketing concept in the universe — the Washlet, available at www.Washlet.com. You’re probably asking the same question I found myself asking just yesterday — i.e. what the hell is this and why should I care?

Well here’s what the Washlet people say:

Washlet is the bathroom accessory that turns your bathroom into an oasis of serenity and comfort. The Washlet uses water.

Washlet uses a streamlined wand that extends to provide a soothing warm flow of aerated water for complete cleansing. What’s more, the Washlet offers a wide array of innovative features. There’s a soothing warm air dryer. For additional comfort, a heated seat. We even took your olfactory senses into consideration by including an air purifier. And the nozzle automatically self cleans before and after each use.

Now this, my dear Cortez, is the product of the millennium. The Washlet is what makes up for the adverse side effects of Western civilization like holes in the ozone layer and monogamy. If there were a Washlet in every home, we wouldn’t experience any “irritation, itching and general discomfort.” We would love each other like brothers and sisters. And if we chose to love each other in a different way, the Washlet also offers superior cleaning!

Of course, conspiracy theorists among us — i.e. those with little bearded gents following them around — could easily work up workable reasons as to why Washlet is evil.

I’m a big fan of the Philosophy 101 class that I dropped out of in freshman year, and so are they. Knowing those methods, therefore, and applying them, it can easily be proved that since Man is inherently evil (St. Augustine), and we clearly don’t live in the best of all possible worlds (Voltaire), any indication that this universe has become the best of all possible worlds would suggest that this world does not exist (German idealism, The Matrix and drugs).

And it doesn’t take long for one to jump from bearded pursuers to green numbers flying all around you. Since it’s a small step for paranoia but a giant leap for our grips on reality to suggest that this world is “too good to be true,” I’m sure that the Washlet has the potential to cause widespread insanity. Hopefully it’ll happen only to philosophy academics, and only a dozen or so people would care.

If you think that this gratuitously eudemonic machine is cheap though, you’re wrong. Fellow hedonists, this device to stimulate the senses and satiate Freud’s third stage is expensive. It might not cost as much as love does in the long run, but it’s a little pricier than enough booze to make it not matter even if it were coated with sandpaper. But, keeping with the classical tone of this column, just think of the benefits and how it would turn even the most anal roommate into a Damon to your Pythias!

In a world where the human race exults in the satisfaction that can only come from not being irritated, itchy or generally uncomfortable, I see sprightliness, smiles and good cheer all around. I see Little Joe shaking hands and giving out bananas while the freed minks, instead of reverting to anthropophagy, dance contentedly. Cell phone towers will cease to irritate or itch. Even Barbara Norris, having devoted a lifetime to gastronomy, might have died happier if she’d seen this fine tribute to her art.

In short, I see universal happiness without having to go about it the pesky way, like eliminating disease, starvation and war. And I can’t think of a better way to spend $1,000.

Arafat Kazi, a junior in the College of Arts and Sciences, is a weekly columnist for The Daily Free Press.