Life is Like a Metaphor, or is Life a Simile, I Disremember

18 Jul

Of late as I have been comforting myself with a late-afternoon repose like a blasé 50’s housewife awaiting her husband’s imminent return, I have contemplated the odd use of metaphors and similes within our artistic, political, national, entertainment and hygienic industries. Like contemporary Augustus Gloops, our pundits, writers, politicos, and hygiene specialists have leaned precariously close to the river of rich Wonka choco by comparing one state of existence to another in a manner that makes little sense.  Will they be swallowed by the pneumatic tube of gluttony, or will they, like drunk drivers, pull away from the carcass of their innocent victim and speed away into the night like a car speeding away into the night.

“Life, they say, is like a box of crayons,” at least according to John Mayer, and in general, I try not to accord anything to John Mayer, so let’s go a different direction.

According to manchild, sage, and seersucker-wearing exemplar, Forrest Gump, “Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get.” Though a toothache, diabetes, or the rare nougat reaction are three possibilities. And getting the cherry crème is like life if in life you got herpes the first time you had sex.

As a writer, I sometimes think that writing is like archeology – the story is the buried treasure and you have to slowly, carefully, uncover it.  Unless you write on drugs, then you take a bulldozer to it.

Or writing is like being a chess master, always thinking three moves ahead, until you start losing and then flip the board in the other guy’s face. Or writing is like life, beautiful in concept, frustrating in execution, and by the end not what you wanted, but what you gotta settle for.

For my literary/baking readers, writing is apparently a lot like baking a cake:

First, you’ll need to gather the best ingredients available: a half cup of quality quotes, a little alliteration and anecdotes wouldn’t hurt. Five cups of key facts and a bag of background detail are a must. To sweeten the mix, include a half pound of human interest. From the spice rack, include a teaspoon of timeliness and pinch of prominence. Stir some theme and transitions into the mix to bond all the ingredients nicely.

I would add two cups of unrefined schmaltz, a teaspoon of you-saw-it-coming-on-page-twenty plot twists, and a half bottle of castor oil to totally Stand By Me the finished product.

According to Moliere, “Writing is like prostitution – first you do it for love, then you do it for a few friends, then you do it for money.” Interestingly, this is the same metaphor for marrying Tom Cruise, except you do it in reverse order.  (According to this, that quote is in some dispute, but because for me correctly citing something is like a Fox News show – based upon the whims of one lone douchebag – I will give it to the French dude.)

According to Vince Lombardi, “football is like life, it requires perseverance, self-denial, hard work, sacrifice, dedication and respect for authority.”  Apparently it also requires paying money to break people’s heads, covering up pedophiles, allowing Terry Bradshaw to continue speaking, and making sure that all teams named after cats suck year in and year out.

“Baseball is like life” At least according to this guy. Also, if you’re bad at it you are probably gonna be stuck in some pissant town like Jockitch, OK, Headlice, MT, or East Chicago, IN. And if you are any good at it you’re going to fail seven out of ten times.

According to a study, music is like cocaine. If that is, each song is shorter than the previous one, and it always takes two hours to download a song when iTunes said, like totally in a half hour dude, but then everyone and their brother is trying to download the same damn song at the same time, and by the time your song has finally downloaded it’s already like 3:30 and really why even bother to listen to it?

As for sex, apparently it’s like pizza, at least according to Dr. Drew. Except for the whole limp, greasy, crusty, cheesy aspect of pizza.

Here’s what I believe:

Baseball is like opera. There are very few people who are really good at it, while those who enjoy it are crazy obsessed freaks, while most others find it boring. Also, you can be fat and do it well.

Football is like war. You move your army into other people’s territory and try to conquer land through modified rules of engagement. The Bengals are like the French, always giving up too early.

Life is like The Simpsons. It was totally awesome in the first half and you thought it would continue that way. And while it’s not “bad” per se, rarely are you ever surprised one day to the next.

Sex is like eating a watermelon, tastes really good, but don’t get a seed in you or you’ll grow a new one.

Music is like sex (sidenote: I’m tone deaf).

Money is like hair, you never really notice it until you start losing it.

Blogging is like talking to yourself on the subway, you think no one is listening, but then there’s some Iranian who is. (I have recently learned that someone from Iran reads this blog. Salam, brother (or sister).)

This post is like life: I wasn’t prepared to write it, didn’t know where it was going, thought it would be a lot better than it actually is, and by the end I just want to pull the plug.

 

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