Monday, September 11, 2006
The Definition of Pain
According to an online dictionary, chosen at random and obviously highly accurate because, well, it’s on the internet, pain may be described thus:-
Physical suffering or distress, as due to injury, illness, etc
Ok, so the above definition is all well and good, but certainly missing something important - our ability to accidentally inflict massive and unexpected pain on ourselves, often in what should be the very simple process of going through our daily routine. So what do you think the most painful thing you can do to yourself is? The things that make you go cold just even thinking about them, right now, as you are reading this??
Could it perhaps be stubbing your little pinkie on the wheels attached to the underside of your bed, leaving you hopping around clutching your foot in agony, screaming obscenities like an old fashioned drunk, all whilst grimacing like a gurning northerner with wind? Is it maybe letting a good length ball through your usually stout forward defensive straight into your gentleman’s agreements, the delay before the stomach tightening, hot-and-cold-sweat pain kicks in giving you just enough time to consider how it would have been far better to wear your box in a jockstrap rather than shoving it straight down your kecks, trapping a handful of pubes and half a plum in the process? Or could it be toothpaste flicking up from your toothbrush and into your eye, leaving it blind and burning in agony, mother nature assisting greatly by clamping your eyelid shut and then forcing you to, although you try desperately to fight against it, rub your eye? Hmmm….
I have one friend who insists the most painful thing that can happen to you is the head snapping off of your toothbrush, and then having the remaining razor-edged handle scythe across your gums and imbed itself in your left cheek. My brother in law would fight tooth-and-nail to say getting chilli seeds in your eye has no equal. I’m sure also some daft woman at the back will raise a hand and offer giving birth as some sort of martyrdom to pain and life in general – yes, yes, but few people give birth unexpectedly - so they’ve had plenty of time to consider how much that is going to hurt. Having time to think about it doesn’t count….
I too thought I knew what the most painful thing you could do yourself was. It was after Christmas a few years ago, and I’d managed to wrestled the Christmas tree out into the back garden for recycling, before realising it was far too big to fit into the car boot. No worries, I nip back into the house, grab a serrated kitchen knife (a The Blade no less – the only kitchen knife you’ll ever need - and the only thing I’ve ever bought off QVC…) and start to set about using it to remove the branches from the tree. All is going smoothly until I managed to wedge the knife quite firmly into its trunk. I therefore shift the grip of my right hand to just below the knife while trying to saw it backwards and forwards back out with my left. As you can imagine in a sudden hail of woodchips and pine scented resin the knife suddenly sprung free, but rather unfortunately decided to then imbed itself down to the bone through the top of my right index finger, having first cut a quarter of an inch flap of fingertip free on its way past. I have really never felt pain like it. The whole world draws together into a tunnel vision of pain, and I run screaming into the house shaking my hand violently up and down as if will alleviate it somehow. It does not, but it does however ensure that the ceiling, floor and walls of the kitchen bear witness to both my folly, and the agonising pain from it, for many months to come…
This may not however be the most painful thing you can do to yourself, for I offer a new way of inflicting pain on oneself in the most bizarre and frankly stoopid way imaginable…
So you won’t need and explanation as to why I’m sitting on the toilet, but suffice it to say that the previous nights activities have left me with a mouth drier than a witch’s tit and foul tasting to boot. Luckily there is a bottle of Listerine mouthwash on the window ledge and in order to alleviate somewhat my ashtray gob I gladly grab the bottle and, having cleverly negotiated the child-proof cap, take a huge swig and start to gargle the stuff vigorously around my mouth. And of course then the problems start. Having gargled to my hearts content, I now need to spit the mouthwash out. Obviously you’d normally do this into the sink, but seated on the throne, this isn’t possible. And nor is keeping the stuff in my mouth any longer an option.
As I’m sure you’re aware, that stuff starts to burn if you hold it in too long so it appears to me that I have only one option before I end up spraying the liquid fire all over the bathroom; spit it into the toilet. I shift my position slightly on the seat and carefully aim down towards the bowl, before letting rip with the stream of mouthwash. My aim is unbelievably accurate with a perfect arc heading towards the water.
There is just one small error I have made in this course of action. I have forgotten about something is in the firing line of this arc of napalm issuing from my lips. That something is, of course, my nob.
And there I’ll leave the rest to your imagination. Suffice it to say that the definition of pain given above is only partly correct. It should read
“Physical suffering or distress usually caused when being completely fucking stupid.”
Physical suffering or distress, as due to injury, illness, etc
Ok, so the above definition is all well and good, but certainly missing something important - our ability to accidentally inflict massive and unexpected pain on ourselves, often in what should be the very simple process of going through our daily routine. So what do you think the most painful thing you can do to yourself is? The things that make you go cold just even thinking about them, right now, as you are reading this??
Could it perhaps be stubbing your little pinkie on the wheels attached to the underside of your bed, leaving you hopping around clutching your foot in agony, screaming obscenities like an old fashioned drunk, all whilst grimacing like a gurning northerner with wind? Is it maybe letting a good length ball through your usually stout forward defensive straight into your gentleman’s agreements, the delay before the stomach tightening, hot-and-cold-sweat pain kicks in giving you just enough time to consider how it would have been far better to wear your box in a jockstrap rather than shoving it straight down your kecks, trapping a handful of pubes and half a plum in the process? Or could it be toothpaste flicking up from your toothbrush and into your eye, leaving it blind and burning in agony, mother nature assisting greatly by clamping your eyelid shut and then forcing you to, although you try desperately to fight against it, rub your eye? Hmmm….
I have one friend who insists the most painful thing that can happen to you is the head snapping off of your toothbrush, and then having the remaining razor-edged handle scythe across your gums and imbed itself in your left cheek. My brother in law would fight tooth-and-nail to say getting chilli seeds in your eye has no equal. I’m sure also some daft woman at the back will raise a hand and offer giving birth as some sort of martyrdom to pain and life in general – yes, yes, but few people give birth unexpectedly - so they’ve had plenty of time to consider how much that is going to hurt. Having time to think about it doesn’t count….
I too thought I knew what the most painful thing you could do yourself was. It was after Christmas a few years ago, and I’d managed to wrestled the Christmas tree out into the back garden for recycling, before realising it was far too big to fit into the car boot. No worries, I nip back into the house, grab a serrated kitchen knife (a The Blade no less – the only kitchen knife you’ll ever need - and the only thing I’ve ever bought off QVC…) and start to set about using it to remove the branches from the tree. All is going smoothly until I managed to wedge the knife quite firmly into its trunk. I therefore shift the grip of my right hand to just below the knife while trying to saw it backwards and forwards back out with my left. As you can imagine in a sudden hail of woodchips and pine scented resin the knife suddenly sprung free, but rather unfortunately decided to then imbed itself down to the bone through the top of my right index finger, having first cut a quarter of an inch flap of fingertip free on its way past. I have really never felt pain like it. The whole world draws together into a tunnel vision of pain, and I run screaming into the house shaking my hand violently up and down as if will alleviate it somehow. It does not, but it does however ensure that the ceiling, floor and walls of the kitchen bear witness to both my folly, and the agonising pain from it, for many months to come…
This may not however be the most painful thing you can do to yourself, for I offer a new way of inflicting pain on oneself in the most bizarre and frankly stoopid way imaginable…
So you won’t need and explanation as to why I’m sitting on the toilet, but suffice it to say that the previous nights activities have left me with a mouth drier than a witch’s tit and foul tasting to boot. Luckily there is a bottle of Listerine mouthwash on the window ledge and in order to alleviate somewhat my ashtray gob I gladly grab the bottle and, having cleverly negotiated the child-proof cap, take a huge swig and start to gargle the stuff vigorously around my mouth. And of course then the problems start. Having gargled to my hearts content, I now need to spit the mouthwash out. Obviously you’d normally do this into the sink, but seated on the throne, this isn’t possible. And nor is keeping the stuff in my mouth any longer an option.
As I’m sure you’re aware, that stuff starts to burn if you hold it in too long so it appears to me that I have only one option before I end up spraying the liquid fire all over the bathroom; spit it into the toilet. I shift my position slightly on the seat and carefully aim down towards the bowl, before letting rip with the stream of mouthwash. My aim is unbelievably accurate with a perfect arc heading towards the water.
There is just one small error I have made in this course of action. I have forgotten about something is in the firing line of this arc of napalm issuing from my lips. That something is, of course, my nob.
And there I’ll leave the rest to your imagination. Suffice it to say that the definition of pain given above is only partly correct. It should read
“Physical suffering or distress usually caused when being completely fucking stupid.”
