Scissors: We will never know how they work, but thank the lord they do

A wild pair of scissors

I had a piece of paper. I needed to cut it in two. I know what you’re thinking, civilization simply hasn’t created technology sophisticated enough to handle this problem. Sure, we have virtual reality porn; however, as a society, we have to create our technologies with some priorities. But how in the hell am I supposed to slice a piece of tree bologna into two separate pieces? I am not a physicist, but even if I were, I don’t think the theory of relativity applies to two metal pieces slipping past each other.

Unlike the Middle East, this problem was hard to solve (and doesn’t involve any beetroots).

I had to cut something in half. It wasn’t a salamander, so I couldn’t just mutter a quick incantation. Thank god for scissors. After successfully slicing the paper in two (a business scheme where I buy paper, cut it in two, and sell it for double the money), I realized: is there any explanation for how this miraculous tool works?

I dove headfirst into the conundrum. My first thought: Isaac Newton’s brain-baby, calculus. I threw every damn integral and derivative I knew at those scissors and yet their mysteries evaded me. Turns out when you integrate a scissor, you just get two scissors. By the end of all my math, I had over 600 scissors. While I sold those scissors for 600 million dollars (the market is ready! Sell now!), I still did not understand how they worked.

My next thought seemed too obvious to be true: did the federal government create a sleeper cell of sharp edges to corrupt America from the inside? Have we let scissors into our home this whole time while they listened and observed, using their skills to keep us dumb and happy with our perfectly divided materials, all while they listened and observed our every move? I began to interrogate my scissors. Although I can’t legally tell people what I did to it (It was waterboarding. Fuck), I didn’t get one word out of this hunk of metal. If this scissor was a sleeper agent, then it was very good.

I was dirty, hungry, and tired. I hadn’t slept in four days. My house was filled with shredded paper, the paper I had shredded and shredded with my enigma wrapped in a mystery wrapped in bacon (I was very hungry). I just wanted the truth. An answer.

Maybe they are just evolved forms, flouting the laws of physics for fun. Maybe they’re just super sharp. I have finally accepted that we will never know.

All I have to say is this: thank you, scissors. I wouldn’t have a business, happiness, or my precious virginity without your vigilant service. In the end, I am simply honored to be able to use them.

  • November 11, 2018