The other day I invented a new pleasure.
* * *
A new pleasure, you say? I hear your rebuttals now. You’re thinking, is there anything new under the sun? Is there anything Google or AI have not conceived? Tell us more.
I was sitting around reading lines from a poem by Coleridge, “In Xanadu did Kubler Khan a pleasure dome decree,” when the idea strikes me like a bolt of lightning from a clear blue sky. Suddenly, a mental picture forms in my mind of a new pleasure. Let me tell you about it.
I know, there are plenty of pleasures to go around already. Who needs new ones? You probably have some secret ones of your own. But why not? Like yesteryear’s shirts, boredom sets in when things get old. If our attention spans were any shorter the brain circuitry would blow out.
But inventions need to be tested, tried to perfect them from any flaws that the epiphany forgot to include. Satisfied I have invented the perfect, never-thought-of new pleasure, I’m wondering if I could patent it, brand it or franchise it. Everything’s about money these days, you know. That’s when there is a knock at the door.
I open it. Standing there is an angel and the devil. They walk right in and sit down like they’re old family members. I think both have been here before.
“We heard you invented a new pleasure,” the angel says.
“Yeah,” retorts the devil. “We’ve brought the Pleasure Manual and have come here to test your new invention. We thought we had all the pleasures listed, but somehow, we must have missed one. Let’s hear it.”
“Hey, is nothing secret with you guys now? But with all due respect, I’d prefer to keep my new pleasure invention to myself if you don’t mind,” I say.
“We do mind,” the angel says. “All secrets and all pleasures, whether good or evil, must be chronicled in the manual for the day of ultimate judgment.”
“What? I never heard of such. You mean we might be judged on pleasures we enjoy here?”
“Everything is recorded, friend. Your name is on it indelibly for ill or good,” the devil says.
Whoever thought new pleasure inventions undergo such close scrutiny and carry weighty consequences. But what’s to lose? I might get credit in the heavens for it, or get rich down here. Can’t lose either way. So, I tell them.
The room gets silent as I explain the details of the invention. They listen intently but with mild interest. I think they’ve heard it all before. I tell them it comes upon me like a virgin birth, like an idea born in the ether and entrusted to me. One smiles, the other frowns. I’m caught in the middle.
“That’s about it, fellas,” I say.
Then the primordial struggle begins. One says it is a virtue, harmless, suitable for public display and must be recorded as such. The other says it’s an evil sin, good only for a thick, black mark in the manual.
Back and forth they go. One rips my new pleasure into shreds like so much street confetti, claiming it will only become a cheap consumer item on Amazon. The other extolls the virtues of how it will migrate into popular culture and add another dimension to amusement. I can add nothing but observation.
Soon each are joined in the fray by legions of beings. New pleasures must upset the spirit world. I feel my new pleasure invention is slipping away into legalistic hell or heaven, depending on the winner of the struggle. Hours pass and there’s no consensus among the combatants.
Finally, they’ve had enough and agree to disagree for the time being, deciding to wait and see how the new pleasure plays out. They leave. Nothing is resolved. Is it Virtue or Sin? Up to me to decide. My new pleasure invention hangs in the balance.
* * *
I guess you’re wondering what my new pleasure is and why it has evoked such a primal response. Well, sorry, it’s a secret.
But I can give you one hint: Whether Virtue or Sin, it’s all how you look at it.
Bud Hearn
November 27, 2023