We live in a world where everyone wants to label everything. Far from it for us to admit to shades of grey, things all have to be black or white. A thing is either this, or it is that. At best we can concede that this has a bit of that tendencies, but for the most part, when we define something, we have a pretty good notion that the words in the English language do a suitable enough job of defining what it is we’re looking at, and we stick to them.

To define, from the Latin, literally means to limit something. When you start to assign attributes to things, you’re saying that this can’t be that, it can only be this. When you say grass is green, you’re saying that grass cannot be blue, or red, or black, etc. But some grass is yellow, and if you spill paint on it, that grass could have a tasteful, subtle off-white colouring. So you could say some grass is green, some grass is yellow, and some grass is soft eggshell white. There are few enough strains of grass and paint colours that to define the colour of grass isn’t that strenuous.

However, when you get to people, to define becomes impossible. There are far too many of us, with all of our own individual quirks that make each and every one of us unique. And that’s just those of us alive now. Think of the billions that have already died, and the trillions yet to be born.

Even to bring it down to one person is impossible. Jean-Paul Sartre describes the human condition as two fold: one part set and finite (the sum of our experiences) and the infinite potential we have in front of us. As a free creature capable of doing pretty close to anything humanly possible, to set a limit on our infinite freedom is (as Sartre would call it) living in bad faith. If you claim to be, say, a good waiter, and then live your life as a good waiter, serving people their water before even they themselves know they want it, sure you’re a good waiter, but you’re denying yourself your freedom of being anything beyond a good waiter. You’re not a good waiter; you’re not any label, because you can be anything.

This would apply to every aspect of yourself you might be defined as: happy person, sad person, funny person, handsome, ugly, straight, gay…

So why do we label people when it is impossible to do so accurately?

Because we have to. Our brain works by understanding labels. We think in definable concepts, not impossible to nail down abstract ones. If someone asks you about yourself, and you say, “oh, I don’t believe in labels” what you are telling this person is that the grass isn’t green, nor is it yellow or blue; the grass is a colour that doesn’t exist. In your mind, try to imagine a colour that doesn’t exist. You may give up after you get to the sort of murky brown one.

So pick something. Anything. If you want the grass to be fuchsia, that’s perfectly fine. If you can find a way to explain the history of how that grass became fuchsia, and what that means to the world around it, then you can be relatable instead of alienating. If you’re trying to explain to someone about something they have never heard of before, remember that it’s not their fault that it’s difficult, they’re just trying to imagine a colour they’ve never come across.

While perusing the search terms that people have used to stumble across my blog, I discovered two things. One, people actually use Bing, and two, at least one person out there is wondering, “Why is bidet immoral?” Since that led them to read my blog, I figured that as a man of the people, I should give the people what they want, and investigate some of the clandestine affairs that bidet gets up to.

According to Wikipedia, the go-to source for half-assed research, a bidet is “a plumbing fixture or type of sink intended for washing the genitalia, inner buttocks, and anus.” So what might be considered immoral about a sparkling clean anus? Let’s make something up on the spot, shall we?

The bidet is a luxury item. Put together by hard-working blue collared men and women, to be used only by the wealthy elite. You won’t find a bidet in a trailer park, and as such, the bidet is a perfect example of the income disparity between the rich and the poor. Fabricated porcelain chip by porcelain chip by the calloused hands of Joe America, his struggle becomes sullied by the taints of the 1%, their trickle down awash with bits of poo.

Another way that the bidet could be considered immoral is if the water is shot out with enough force and hits the right spot, theoretically it could break a woman’s hymen. In cultures where virginity is considered sacred instead of ridiculed, this could pose a problem for her. Alongside horses and over-zealous kegels, the bidet is one of the leading causes of non-sexual hymen-breakages.

Lastly, bidet is a French word that means pony, implying that a bidet is to be ridden as such. Which is… kinda gross.

Thus concludes the immorality of bidets. I hope you have all taken something away from this, and will never, ever use a bidet again. Or douche. You shouldn’t douche either.

In honour of this new year that is upon us, I’m going to share two of the greatest pieces of advice I have ever received. This isn’t life altering stuff that will make you all zen or whatever, but it’s still good advice. So listen up.

The first bit was given to me by my late grandfather. For unnecessary context, my grandfather founded his own business, and was married to my grandmother for like a billion years or however long. A while, anyway. I lived with them while I was going to a school near-ish to their home. One time, when I was going out one night, my grandfather said to me, “Dan,” he said, “don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, were I capable of doing it.” He was 80-something at the time, so if he hadn’t added in that final caveat, he would have limited me considerably. But I think that was the point of the advice he was trying to give, which was do things, any things, while you’re still young enough and capable enough to do them. You might get old, you might get sick, or injured, or dead, and then all the opportunities for doing will be gone. So I think the “don’t” part of his little maxim there was facetious, and he was trying to get me to live my life.

The next bit of advice that has stuck with me was given to me by a wise old prostitute. This is a woman who has experienced life in ways unfathomable to most people. To those wondering, no, I didn’t pay for this advice nor any pre or post-advice delights. Anyway, this wise old prostitute said to me, “Dan,” she said, “always bring two condoms.” Now this might just seem like basic, practical advice, but I believe it can be generalized to apply to other, non-sexual life events. Don’t let trivial things get in the way of having an amazing time. I mean bringing two condoms is showing a little forethought, which is always smart too, but I prefer to think of this advice in terms of if something has gone wrong, and there is a simple thing like not having a condom stopping you from an otherwise orgasmic time, then don’t get hung up on it. The first condom malfunctioned, so what? Persevere. There are always 24 hour drug stores.