Something else has reached its expiration date.
No, not picnicking, even though both words use a variant of the “K” rule that no one really understands and picnicking is obviously the better alternative because it involves sitting quietly on a towel with loved ones in a pastoral setting eating delicious foodstuffs instead of wrapping a towel around your face and shouting obscenities at people to convince them you’re right about hate.
Sorry. I got sidetracked, as tends to happen when we try to find the best words to communicate the answer to Life, the Universe, and the Kafka Trap.
You see, Douglas Adams didn’t know he wasn’t writing fiction and the Earth really is a supercomputer programmed to find the answer previously mentioned, and we really are living in a simulation where the same people who tell us they can save Earth from the Vogon hyperspace bypass — or Global Warming, take your pick — are using towels in exactly the wrong way.
We all know who they are. Even they know who they are, even if they won’t admit it — as people who are panicking are virtually certain not to do. Approximately 99% of everyone else understands that the last thing we want to do is wade in and try to save them. We leave that to the professionals.
Unfortunately for Earth, the professionals have told the panickers that not only is panic common in adults of the species, but it’s also a disease that can be treated in the same way one treats the disease in children: with the application of a soft, moist, heated cotton towel administered in a secure location surrounded by stuffed animals, coloring books, and two big red buttons: “Don’t Panic” and “That Was Easy.”
When the panicked mob of infantile zombies in swaddling towels storms out of Kafka’s castle to put you on trial with the hysterical axiom that you’re guilty of whatever precisely because you deny your guilt, the moral thing to do is watch them drown while confirming Supreme Court justices. Doing anything else is a trap.
We are the protagonists in this simulation, but we are not “Joseph K” in The Trial or “K” in The Castle: strangers in a desolate village governed by a looming, unresponsive bureaucracy and paralyzed by the frustration of trying to conduct business with the most opaque administration in history, only to be prosecuted by a totalitarian tribunal that never charges us with a crime because their version of human rights presumes guilt.
That’s the identity panicked Democrats would like us to have, and — not coincidentally — our failure to adopt it is one reason for their panic, which actually began when the venerable dictum “Don’t Panic” reached its expiration date a considerable number of years before its 39th anniversary, which occurred on October 12, 2018.
Few of us noticed the panic in the early days because we were busy bombing aspirin factories, watching squirrels drag $100 bills through trailer parks, and listening as an eruption of third-wave feminist bimbos destroyed real women.
Then, of course, 9/11 happened and we all loved one another for a few seconds while President Hitler distracted everyone by telling us to keep shopping or the terrorists win, which we did.
The panic became somewhat more noticeable when half the country suddenly became racists who hated America before we all became socialists now who loved America for the first time, but that was pretty confusing so the panic — although widespread — didn’t really have time to settle into the zombie unconsciousness.
I think you know what happened next.
Which brings us to the answer to Life, the Universe, and the Kafka Trap. Which, also not coincidentally, is also the reason “Don’t Panic” expired.
Only this time, no one is forgetting the question.