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2002-04-09 6:38 p.m.

Pimples are amazing things. Now, considering my rampant overuse of my fanatical pro–pimple sentiment, I can completely understand how some would immediately pass this off as rhetoric—as obvious as "the weather is nice, isn't it?" or as empty and repeated as "ass rape" or "how are you doing?" But, recently a little episode with a clogged pore reminded me of a fascinating pimple fact which I had not considered for much time: Even a pimple which appears tiny or insignificant to the observer is capable of pouring an ocean of pain upon its host.

I guess this should have been obvious to me. A tiny shard of broken glass—even though it is of negligible proportions—if forced into my urethra would hurt very much. A scorpion stinger is so small, yet, when jammed into one's tear ducts it must unleash a world of pain.

Andie tries to explain this to me all the time when I pop her pimples. She screams out in pain and tells me that she hates me and wants me to stop. "Ow! Quit!" A tortured look of terror fills her frantic eyes. "THAT HURTS! STOP RIGHT NOW! I AM NOT KIDDING!" She flails. She insists it hurts more than I can imagine. How could the barely visible blemishes on her snow–white skin possibly hurt her so much? I mean, they are TINY pimples—I almost have to use special tools to find them they are so small. "Hmm..." I reply, "are you sure this is hurting you? Because, you see, I don't feel a thing. I feel great. No pain at all here. None."

But, I got a pimple on the side of my nose a few days back that, even though was not large, still taught me some valuable lessons about hurting. It hurt sooooo much that I knew that there was only one thing to do: PHOTOGRAPH IT. Other than taking the time to personally visit everyone I have ever met and stab their faces with an ice pick or develop a way to send pain as an email attachment, what better way exists to convey physical suffering than with pictures? But there was one problem...The photos revealed an upsetting truth: the pimple that I was making a huge deal about was tiny.


You see? It looked small but it felt BIG. This is the amazing paradox of it! It is like the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit being three, yet one! It is like buying one and getting one for free! It is a mystery which we try to cage with words, but alas, there exists no words capable of the task.


Just like with porn, some people are really into the extreme close–up shots. This smutty jerk material is intended for only the most hard–core of fetishists.

Ok, so I really felt like a complainer, since this pimple was clearly not very big. But, that is why this has been such a learning experience—I have been reminded how it is the little things in life which can cause the greatest discomfort. Sometimes things are not as bad as they seem—they are, in fact, much, much worse.

In any case, though, I hope to tap into the power of selective memory and forget these lessons as soon as possible, so I can return to holding Andie down, popping her pimples, and ignoring her cries for mercy.


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