The Unremitting Intensity of the Irritation

I have heard it said (by a conservative Christian nonetheless) that the human body is the apex of God’s creation. I’ve heard it described as a miracle of human evolution. More recently I’ve decided the human body is the most pathetic, impractical, infuriatingly sissified weak organism in the Universe.

There are countless examples. Who has not wished they had another pair of hands? Or even one more hand. Those of a feminine structure could, no doubt, easily think up a better mechanism for bringing children into the world (I’m talking about the “birth” part, not necessarily the “procreation” part, though I have some serious questions about that, too!). Relative to our size we are one of the slowest animals. We can’t climb trees very well and for every disease we eradicate it seems another five are immediately born to replace it. We’re living longer only to be brought down by a catalogue of ailments that specifically target the aged human carcass.

Let’s face it. We’re pussies. In the grand scheme of things, the human animal – whether evolved or created – is pathetic.

For all our “knowledge”, our “advances”, our “innovation”, for all the advantages morality, speech, intuition, and sentience supposedly afford us, we’re pretty useless. Like the Martians who were brought down by the smallest of (known then) living things, bacteria, who hasn’t been totally and utterly debilitated by something incredibly small and irrelevant. Who’s had a splinter that’s turned infected? Did you try to do normal things like type, wash dishes or pick your nose with the infected finger? Who’s cut their finger and felt like you’re bleeding to death? Who’s had a cold, or in these flu-packed days had even the regular non-bird, non-swine, non-hedgehog flu?

My present humbleness is undoubtedly caused by something equally inconsequential. Well, inconsequential until the little mongrel showed up in my space. I don’t know what it is, but I guarantee it’s small (either pollen, a virus, or some bacteria) and IT’S. DRIVING. ME. NUTS!


Truly. At the risk of being dramatic, and trivialising the real problems humans encounter, for a short time there I really felt like I was going nuts. The whole upper half of my face felt like it was on fire, and it was like there was one completely elusive grit of sand (another small entity that can cause all kinds of trouble) hiding somewhere under my eyelid. And did I say it was DRIVING. ME. NUTS!?

I’m serious. It was relentless and I felt like smashing my head through a pane of glass just to relieve the persistent hostility of whatever was crawling around in my eye. There was nothing rational that could be done to relieve the unremitting intensity of the irritation, so I really felt the need to do something irrational, something dramatic.

Luckily, the grit of sand must have fallen out – or something. Suddenly, it wasn’t so bad.

Which may be cause for even more frustration. WHY? Why drive me to the point of smashing something, like my head, then just up and leave? Gone. What’s that about?

Of course, the whole ordeal wasn’t over. There’s still the weeping and the blurred vision. So I’m off to the doc tomorrow. Of course, even with the wonders of modern medicine – yeah right – I’m sure I won’t be feeling much better by this time tomorrow.