Twisty-Ties

You know, twisty-ties, the bane of any sliced-bread-lover’s existence. Those damn, aluminum or plastic or unnatural plastic metal combination that spits in the face of God, things.

The only explanation for them is something along the lines of technology that should stay out of the hands of man, or some sort of black magic birthed from the fire pits of Muspelheim.

The idea is, in theory, you twist the twisty-tie in one direction to undo the twist, or you twist in another direction to greaten the twist as you fall deeper into the trance made by the Old Ones for you to continue to do their bidding in preparation for the rise of R’lyeh, followed by the revival of the Great One Cthulhu for he will devour all of that which is humanity.

My point being, twisty-ties are proof that the universe is an uncaring environment, and shows that we are a small feeble race that does not belong among the stars and should stay on the small rock that we so desperately cling to.

You see the theory is, stressing the nonscientific usage of “theory”, that twisty-ties are simple machines in that there’s only two outcomes to their usage, one that loosens and one that tightens. But that’s never the case.

You, poor mewling human, are just trying to make yourself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich (which helped defeat the Axis Powers in WW2 by the way, look it up), and you face the embodiment of evil on the end of your bag of loaf of bread (awkward phrasing), you twist to the left, it tightens, you twist to the right, it tightens. Satan laughs at you. Back to the left, nothing, back to the right, still tightening, Prometheus, the damned one who brought the gift of knowledge to humanity against the wills of the gods, and is forever chained to a boulder as crows peck out and eat his liver which regrows everyday, thinks to himself “man it sucks to be that person”.

You frantically twist back in forth, the lizard aliens running the worlds’ governments watch the video feed from the hidden cameras in your house, laughing manically as truly their subjection of humanity as begun.

Finally, mentally, physically, emotionally, and a little bit sexually, exhausted and frustrated the twisty-tie comes loose, as the Illuminati have grown bored watching you dick around with a piece of unholy composite, and finally release your bread before returning to their board meeting with Beyoncé.

You make the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, not feeling like it was quite worth it, for even the feeling of democracy’s victory over the evils of fascism in 1945 that comes over you whenever you bite in to a PB&J, can replace the part of your soul the twisty-tie had sucked down to Hades.

For evil truly exists, not the malevolent kind, but the apathetic. The kind that shows that we humans pretend to understand the universe around us, we pretend to be giants ruling our world, but in reality we are but small children lost in and infinite sandbox, whose parents have abandoned long ago, building sandcastles and naming themselves kings of an empire that will only last in a fraction, of a fraction, of a fraction, of fraction of a blink of an eye in the grand timescale of the universe.

We are all going to die on this ball of rock and water, and the twisty-ties will out live us all. For life is only a random chance, but time is the edge of the infinite and it does not care.

Do not mistake my apathy for hatred, for I do not quell myself with mere mortals.